The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was starting to become unnerving, the way she stared.

Today marked the third lunch hour in a row that I’d caught her looking my way, gaze unwavering even as I frowned in response. She just… kept looking, her saffron eyes piercing the air between us like some kind of mental knife. It wasn’t as if I didn’t appreciate the attention—I was grateful just to be stared at in a way that did not imply my observer thought I looked like, as Cal Mendoza put it in the eleventh grade, a great value pornstar without the tits. (I swear to god, I’ve gotten better at the makeup.) But I did want to know why she was looking—surely, I reasoned, there could be any number of reasons to do so other than my subjective resemblance to a flat-chested glorified hooker. And anyhow, I did get most of the attention I needed from Gianna, so it wasn’t as if I had to resort to simping for the dark-skinned girl across the lunch room.

Perturbed despite myself, I took a surreptitious bite of my sandwich and tried to ignore the brilliant gaze that refused to leave me alone.

I probably should have been more concerned than I was when I saw her following me afterward, but have I mentioned that I do not think very clearly around beautiful women? I blame my birth hormones—still running rampant, thank you very much, whilst financial concerns leave the Almighty E forever out of my reach—but Gianna thinks I secretly enjoy it. I think that’s her own bias coming through, seeing as she’s smoking like the barrel of an automatic machine gun after emptying its payload and is therefore in a position to make the most of my affliction.

But if Gianna was hot, then my mystery pursuer was steaming like a geothermal vent. She had what one might call model-like proportions, her chest neither too large nor too small and made more prominent by a tight-fighting, dark red tank top. Curvy legs were hugged by equally tight blue jeans, into which her top was tucked, and her brown-skinned face was framed by a mane of deliciously curly dark brown hair. Completing her outfit was, hung round her neck, a flawless garnet framed by obsidian which must have cost a fortune.

Yet, despite how my genitalia seemed to feel about her, and its attempts to convince my mind to agree, something about this situation seemed less than desirable to me, so I sped up, and she did not attempt to increase her own pace.

She was waiting for me outside my dorm, an easy smile quirking her dark, ruby-colored lips, while one hand errantly toyed with the pendant at her throat and a sparkle of mischief danced in her eyes.

“Hey, you,” she said, her voice low, throaty, and spoken with what was easily the sexiest accent I had ever heard—I thought it might have been Polynesian? “You’re Jaylani, right? I’ve heard your name in passing, I think.”

Just ignore her. You know how jealous Gianna can get.

I chose not to heed this wisdom.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, as if I intended to strike up a chat. “It’s Jay, if you like.”

“Well, Jay,” she said, her smile curling into an inviting smirk, “You are quite pretty, and I was wondering if perhaps you might like to get a cup of coffee with me.”

I smiled apologetically. “I would, but I’ve got a girlfr—”

She adjusted the pendant, and a bit of red light sparkled inside. Everything seemed to slow, suddenly, as my attention drifted to her necklace, and she spoke again, her voice coming out with a strange vibration to it, one which left me feeling a sort of relaxed openness I couldn’t quite place. “Don’t worry about your girlfriend,” she told me, and there just didn’t seem to be any other option other than to agree.

The light started to fade, and she prompted, “So, about that coffee…”

“Yeah, um, sure,” I told her nervously. “Let me just change, and then we can head right out.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” she told me. “We can just have a cup in your dorm, assuming you’re comfortable with it. I prefer my dates in complete privacy, if you can understand that.”

I nodded slowly, processing her logic. “...oh, alright, come on in, then. If you’d like to get the coffee started, the kitchenette’s on the left. I’ll just be getting changed in my room.”

“I’m sure you will,” she said, and gave me a sultry smile. “Oh, and, one more thing…” she tweaked the necklace, sending another brief cascade of crimson sparks through its depths, and that strange syrupy warmth again began to seep into me, “Jay isn’t nearly sexy enough of a nickname. I think I’m going to call you Lani.”

“C-Call me Lani,” I stuttered with a nervous smile.

“Don’t you worry,” said the girl with a wink. “I will. Now get changed. I’ve been waiting for this.”

As soon as I emerged from my bedroom, I noticed her scarlet gaze watching me with a sort of hungry light deep within the pits of her eyes. I hadn’t dressed that formal, but in an effort to impress her, I’d taken slightly longer than was strictly necessary to put on a bit of a show, and she seemed to be enjoying it thus far.

“Hey, you,” she murmured. “Coffee’s ready.” She nodded toward the counter behind her, and I moved to take the remaining cup, taking care not to accidentally brush against her. She did the exact opposite, and as I took the warm mug she reached out a free hand and gently lay it against my thigh, lazily tracing circles against my skin once, twice, three times, before I turned back around with a bit of a questioning look. She merely widened her smile in response, taking a sip of her coffee.

“So, u-uh,” I stammered, moving around the table to take a seat across from her. “What should I call you, beautiful girl?”

“Mm, feel free to keep calling me that,” she murmured, and I blushed a little as she regarded me from beneath her lashes. “If you must use a name… I’m Namaka, but please, call me Nami.”

The necklace sparkled again as she gave it a little nudge with her fingers, sending it gently rocking back-and-forth and the little red lights inside dancing along with it. “It’s the most beautiful name you’ve ever heard.” Her words, velvety and utterly enrapturing as they were, seemed almost an afterthought to the molten light glowing inside her pendant, like they were only really there to further focus my mind upon its warmth. The very same warmth which was spreading so quickly now, spreading into my chest as this time the light did not fade, and Namaka kept talking. “You love to hear it. To speak it. To look at the girl it belongs to. To stare at her perfect pretty pendant.” She smiled gently, almost… maternally, her dark red lipstick glinting in the warm autumn light which came through the window. “Isn’t that right?”

“y-yes, Nami,” I mumbled, a note of pleasure sprinkling through me as that perfect, sacred name touched my lips.

“You love my pendant, don’t you?”

“Y-yes! I do!” I told her reverently, a sudden yearning for it filling my soul. It was the most beautiful object I’d ever laid eyes on; I needed it as badly as I needed oxygen to breathe.

“You love the red lights inside.” It was a statement of fact. “But do you know what? Those red lights are a part of me. So, really… don’t you love me?”

I paused, just for a moment. She was right, of course; I loved her, so much, I just hadn’t thought about it that way. Something about her logic just seemed… off, too, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… wrong, somehow, I felt… I was feeling… I’m…

“...so drowsy, now,” Nami told me, and my eyelids suddenly fluttered as a yawn fought its way to my lips. “Thaaaaat’s it, good girl,” she murmured, as the rosy red light began to swell into a fog that swiftly enveloped me like a lover’s embrace. I grinned faintly at the praise, while her gentle stare and perfect pendant continued melting me into a lovestruck puddle. “Come with me, Lani sweetie,” she told me, and suddenly I was standing up, and there was a soft, warm hand wrapped around my own, and I was moving toward my bedroom. Through my foggy, red-tinted vision I could make out that the pendant was no longer directly in front of me, no longer even in my line of sight at all—but its light still crackled in my mind like a campfire. Nami was still talking, through my half-aware movements. “So sleepy. So safe with me,” she told me.

Safe with her. I was safe with her.

“safe with you,” I mumbled. The red light, and Nami’s eyes, warm and adoring and… so red… were all I could see now.

I felt myself being guided into my bedroom, laid down on the mattress, as Nami’s warm body followed me under the covers, her inexorable words still slipping into my ear as she nuzzled the side of my face. Occasionally I would hear myself mumble, “yes, Nami,” in response; it was always yes, I couldn’t help but agree. Nami was always right. I knew this now.

I hung in this space for what felt like hours. At one point, I managed to figure out that she told me I didn’t remember anything about someone called Gianna—something about that didn’t make me feel good, but then she told me it did. At another, she slipped her hand into my pants and started to gently run it across the exterior of my panties. This, too, was momentarily distressing, but she told me—and how could I have forgotten?—that she was my girlfriend; we’d been dating since high school. And with that knowledge, my cock perked right up.

And then suddenly, after another eternity inside the fog of her warmth, the light started to dim, and she appeared over me, her gentle scarlet gaze bearing down on me like the weight of an entire ocean.

“You love my pendant, don’t you? It made you feel so good, and so open, and helped you learn so many things.” It was not much of a question; at the very least implying its answer.

“Yes, Nami,” I told her drowsily, and she smiled.

“Good. Then it’s time for you to put it on.”

She took it off.

Dropped it around my neck.

The world rocked, spun, tilted on its axis; an inverse tuning fork struck against the center of my mind.

My eyes closed as one word rang in my head:

“Begin.”