The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter One

The wheels squeaked as Billy towed his old Radio Flyer out of his bedroom and into the carpeted hall. That was no surprise. Until he dug it out last week the red wagon had sat rusting and neglected in the back of the garage for years, since he was old enough to ride a bike. It made him feel silly and childish to be using it now, but it was the best way to make his experiment mobile.

So instead of Legos and Transformers, the wagon now held his invention, which consisted of a bulky transformer, a circuit board and a car battery connected by a tangle of wires to a pyramid of LEDs. He’d realized in the design phase that the construction would be too delicate to carry around, so he had the foresight to assemble it in the wagon—though he was beginning to worry that the Flyer’s aging frame might not support the load.

Squeak, squeak, squeak, the wagon protested as he pulled it down the hall, past the bathroom, towards the door of Amy’s bedroom—which was cracked open enough to cast a sliver of light on the carpet, and admit the muffled sounds of female voices into the hall.

He paused outside to listen.

“—and everyone knows he was sleeping with Ashley anyway,” Amy said.

“God, what’s that squeaking? Is that your plumbing?” It was Jessica, Amy’s friend.

“Probably my brother doing something,” Amy said. “I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on him while my parents are in Napa. He’s such a geek. He’s probably, like, rewiring the house or something.”

Billy knocked on the door and nudged it open. Jessica was on the bed, her legs tucked under her, surrounded by loose pages and textbooks scattered across the comforter. She glanced up, and Billy felt his pulse quicken. She was a wet dream, even dressed modestly in blue jeans, her blonde hair held back in a ponytail. Billy’s gaze flicked down to the swell of her breasts beneath her tee shirt, then back to her dazzling blue eyes. He gulped. “Hi Jessica.”

“Uh, hi, umm ...”

“Billy,” he reminded her. Jessica had been best friends with Amy since junior high school, and Billy’s most ardent crush for just as long. But she still couldn’t remember his name.

“What do you want, pest?” Amy was sitting at her desk in front of the computer. “We’re trying to study.”

“I just thought I’d show you guys something I built.” He pulled the wagon into the room with three more squeaks. “It’s an experiment I’ve been working on.”

Jessica took in the wagon, then glanced at Amy with a look of mild annoyance. Billy had always assumed their study sessions were nothing more than an excuse to gab and gossip, but now it seemed like maybe they were actually studying. Jessica at least.

“Get that thing out of my room,” said Amy. “God, you’re such a dork.”

Jessica turned back to her papers.

“It’ll only take a second,” Billy said. “It’s like a light show.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning your room?,” said Amy. “If mom and dad come home Monday and it’s still a disaster area in there, I’m going to tell them you were too busy building weird science projects to do the one thing they asked you to do this week.”

“No no no, this is really cool,” he said. “It’s based on some research I found in some old science journals. They theorized that you could use a matrix of short-waveform LEDs to visually mimic the electromagnetic properties of a human brain in a certain state of consciousness, and then impress it on a test subject through their optic nerves,” he glanced at Jessica to see if she was amazed by his mastery of scientific jargon. He was pleased to see she was looking up from her work again, regarding him, perhaps, with new interest—but she still seemed more annoyed than impressed. “Anyway,” he continued, “it didn’t go anywhere at the time, because you needed blue LEDs to generate the right frequencies, and they hadn’t been invented yet.”

“Seriously, get it out of here dork,” said Amy, her dark eyes flashing with menace.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Bobby,” said Jessica. “We’ll come by and check it out later, but right now we really have to study.” She smiled, showing her dimples. God.

“This’ll only take a second,” said Billy. His hands trembled a bit as he reached for the knife switch between the battery and the circuit—then stopped. “Oh shit!,” he said. “Hold on. I forgot something.” He scrambled out of the bedroom, leaving the girls alone with the contraption.

They heard his feet padding down the hall to his room. Amy sighed.

“He’s really not so bad,” she said. “He just needs a girlfriend.”

“He’s not going to get one with that thing,” said Jessica.

When he reappeared at the door he was wearing a pair of modified ski goggles, each lens affixed with an oversized square of translucent film, tinted red. He looked ridiculous—a mad scientist in training.

Jessica covered her mouth and tried to stifle a giggle, but finally broke out laughing. Amy didn’t attempt to hide her glee and doubled over in hysterics.

Billy bent and flipped the switch.

The girls’ laughter trailed off as the room filled with a dazzling blue light, holding a peculiar, flickering quality—like a television set in a dark room. The blue luminescence painted every corner of the bedroom, obliterating every shadow, bouncing off the computer monitor, glowing in the glass of 7-Up on Amy’s desk. It was reflected in Jessica’s and Amy’s eyes.

Jessica tilted her head slightly, her lips parted and her brow crinkled as though she were studying something of infinite importance and beauty. Across the room Amy had fallen still, her gaze also locked on the blue glow.

The room was silent. Billy stood, slowly, tentatively. He realized he was holding his breath, and he let it out slowly.

A clock chimed from downstairs. The girls didn’t stir.

Billy moved quietly to where Jessica sat entranced on the bed. He eased down next to her, closer to her than he’d ever been in his life. She seemed oblivious, her chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. In profile she was as lovely as straight on, a perfect nose, high forehead, smooth pale skin. She had a diamond stud in her ear. He leaned in and noticed, for the first time, that she was wearing a trace of perfume. He breathed it in deeply. A few loose strands of her blond hair stirred in his breath.

Suddenly Billy was all too aware of his sister’s presence across the room. He looked back over his shoulder—she was still transfixed by the blue glow. But he didn’t want her there, watching, even in her mesmerized state. He walked over and sat above her on her desk.

“Amy? Can you hear me.”

Her eyes stayed on the Radio Flyer, but she nodded.

“Look at me.”

With what seemed to be great effort, she slowly turned her head toward him, her eyes moving to stay locked on the light until it was no longer possible to keep it in view and carry out Billy’s instructions. She gazed up at him now, into his eyes—through the red celluloid shielding him from his invention. She didn’t laugh.

Billy realized that, in repose, Amy was quite beautiful. Her flawless skin had a rich Mediterranean hue, her dark eyes were large and bottomless. He touched her lips, traced them with his fingers. She continued to stare into his eyes placidly.

“Amy ...” his voice cracked, and he reached for the soda and took a sip. “Amy, you want to kiss me. You want to make out with me, very badly.”

“I—,” her expression changed, took on a puzzled, confused cast. “You’re... my brother...”

“You have to kiss me,” he told her. “It’s all you want. You need it, desperately, more than you’ve needed anything before.”

“N—No,” she protested meekly. “I ... don’t ...” she trailed off.

“You want to French kiss me. You need to make out with me.” Just an experiment, he thought to himself; see how much influence he really had. “You want to kiss me passionately.”

“I—I want to kiss you,” Amy whispered. “I need to kiss you.” She stretched her lithesome body up toward Billy, her lips parted. “Kiss me,” she said softly. “Please kiss me.”

It really worked. A world of possibilities opened in Billy’s mind as Amy craned to reach him. Her lips were an inch away from his, when he pulled back, just a little. She let out a low, tortured moan he’d never heard before, and stretched up further. “Pleeeease,” she whined. “I need to kiss you.”

He jumped off the desk, putting himself out of her reach. She uttered an anguished squeal and stood up, steadied herself against the desk with one slender arm, and reached for him with the other, her head tilted pleadingly. She wetted her lips. “Please Billy,” she moaned. “I’ll do anything. Please kiss me.” Her eyes moistened with tears.

“Anything?”

“Pleeease.”

“Clean my room.”

She nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes,” she breathed. “Just please kiss me.”

“Clean my room first. From top to bottom. Then I’ll kiss you.”

“B-but...”

“That’s it.”

She nodded again, and walked to the door—pausing once as her eyes were snagged by the blue light, but breaking free to carry out Billy’s order. He heard her footsteps retreat down the hall.

He listened at the door, uncertainly. Now that she was away from the light, would she remain in thrall to the suggestions he gave her under its influence, or was she about to scream in anger and rush back to her bedroom? After a moment he was rewarded by the sound of drawers opening down the hall.

He was alone with Jessica, at last.