The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The kid had no idea what was coming. It was hot and he sat on the concrete bench with his backpack at his feet, sweating and looking miserable. He had an orange t-shirt, desert camo pants, and not a lot else on, but it wasn’t enough, not in San Antonio in July, and he knew it. His aunt had moved down here and, at the time, he’d thought it’d be cool to travel a little, but he quickly discovered she worked during the day and he knew NO one here. He didn’t fit in at all and had no way to get around anywhere fun. Buses weren’t bad, but if you weren’t headed downtown, you were screwed, and it was easy for him to feel sorry for himself. So his aunt told him she’d booked him a tour of the Alamo and surrounding area, but he’d have to get here himself. Which he did. And it sucked. The place looked tiny and it was too hot to want to hang around, but he had to wait for his guide, even if he was going to cancel it, go home, and crank up the AC. He turned his head as he heard the sound of hard-soled boots come walking up.

The guide walked up to what was obviously the kid he was supposed to show around. The kid turned to look and his eyes flickered over the guide’s clothes, going down, then back up, and the guide grinned to himself as he saw the kid’s reaction—mixed. “That’s right,” he thought, “boots, belt, and hat are corny to you, aren’t they? That’s all right. You’re in Texas. Get used to it.” He then grinned on the outside and stuck out his hand. “You’re Brandon, right?” he asked. The kid stood up and stuck out his hand.

“Yeah,” he said. The guide adroitly grabbed the kid’s wrist and gently swung his right hand so it was pointing towards the Alamo. There was some resistance at first because the kid didn’t know what was going on, but after a split second, the resistance melted and the hand swung freely.

“That’s right,” the guide said. “I’m glad to meet you, and you’re glad to meet me, and that there building that you can see is the Alamo. There are several things I’m going to tell you that are important, so I want you to really listen well.” The kid’s brow furrowed. He was confused, a little, and annoyed a little, too.

“Before we go into that cool building over there, you and I can talk out here first, because it’s good to be able to just relax and let go and talk pleasantly with someone when you have something you want to learn now, don’t you.” The kid’s head nodded fractionally. The guide grinned at him—this wasn’t going to be too hard, after all. “Can you remember what it was like to be a little boy? So many boys dream about the Alamo that I wonder what it’s like for you as you remember what it feels like to be young and fascinated as you pay attention to the story. And you know how important it is to pay attention. One can learn to really enjoy it when you pay attention to the guy standing in front of you, the guy who wants to teach you what you didn’t realize that you always could have learned but never knew how to, did you?” The kid’s head shook fractionally. He didn’t know really what all the man was saying, but he was right, it DID feel important somehow . . . whatever “it” was.

“So, in a moment, I’m going to let go of your wrist and we’re gonna shake hands, meeting for the first time, and I don’t know how pleasant you’ll find it for yourself as you discover you can just relaaaaaaaax and listen. You’re unconscious . . . knows there’s some part of my get up, as corny as it might seem to you, that’d be just fascinating to look at, don’t you.” Again, the tiny nod, so slight someone watching them wouldn’t have seen it. “And imagine how comfortable it’ll be for yourself to just let go and let your mind wander as you stare at that part, that single point, and I can talk to you.” With that, he seized the kid’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I’m pleased to meet you, Brandon!’ he said. The kid blinked momentarily.

“Uh . . . yeah,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Before we go in,” the guide said, “sit back down and let me tell you a little about the area around here.” The kid nodded and sat back down on the concrete. He noticed the man’s belt buckle was so classic as to be almost a cliché—it was a cowboy riding a bull. The kid didn’t know people actually WORE buckles like that these days. Did they still? That was amazing. More than amazing, it was kind of funny, really. He grinned as he looked at it, noticing how the sun reflected off it. The curved surface of it made it glint interestingly. It would be bright, but not quite blindingly so, which made it even more interesting to watch, he thought. Interesting enough that he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention to what the guide was saying and, startled, raised his eyes back up to the man’s face, trying to maintain eye contact, as the man talked.

“There are a lot of things you can notice in this area, when you really pay attention now,” the guide was saying. “The people and their voices all around. . . the buildings . . . the landscape . . . the heat . . . the sound of cars as they go by . . . all of these things go into how you can really enjoy it when you just breathe and take in the atmosphere around here. Despite all the noise and how many people rush, you’ll find you can, when you go inside yourself now, discover just how much peace you can feel here as well. And isn’t it strange that a place that had so much war and bloodshed, so long ago, can help you feel peace?” The guide grinned as the kid did the microscopic nod again. “And as you learn to REALLY pay attention, one can be pleasantly surprised when you experience how just the sound of the breeze moving through the tree tops can help you relax even more, now that you can notice it.” The kid’s eyes flickered briefly to the trees in the area.

“That’s right . . . just listen and focus on how much simple pleasure you can draw from something like the sound of trees, or the comfort you can get to relax, even in heat like this, when you think about the peace one can feel in this area, because the more aware you are of what you can experience, the more you can enjoy the fact that you’re here now, don’t you.”

“He’s right,” the kid thought. “this place IS kind of neat.” He looked back at the man, his body feeling thick and slow and hot, and it felt like he was moving in slow motion, but it felt so good he didn’t want to mess it up. He tried to look at the man’s face again, because that was polite, but that belt buckle was just too interesting!”

The guide noticed how his eyes went and commented, “I’m pleased you can notice my buckle, son. This buckle has a history itself for me, just like that building in front of us does for you. I won this in a contest. It looks simple, but if you really pay attention to it, you’ll notice something unusual in the way they’ve done the metal. It was actually hammered by hand and, the more you look at it, the more you can see a pattern in it.” The kid watched it as the man continued talking in that accent of his, stressing some words, slowing some, and speeding up others.

“And that pattern was designed by an artist in east Texas, in the back woods. He works silver by hand and he found that people treasure what he has all the more when he puts something subtle into it. There’s a pattern hidden in this here buckle that’ll help you understand why I always wear it when I come to give tours of the Alamo, and I wonder how long it’ll take you to figure out what it is. It’s all right for you to look at it and let your mind wander what it is you can really see there, as you look deeper in, and I don’t mind if you let yourself listen to the breeze in the trees, or the cars, or the people talking all around us, because I’m not so arrogant as to think that you want to listen to my voice all that much right now, as you just relax and take in how surprised you are at how good you can feel out here in this summer heat. I’ll do my job and talk, and you can listen, or not. One can even act like you’re listening intently, while in truth you’re mine can go inside and wander around from one point of pleasure to another, you can pay attention to one thing, then the next, then something else.”

The kid kind of smiled to himself. He felt thick . . . slow and almost like he was both IN his skin quite strongly, feeling everything, but also strangely out of it as well, like watching a movie of himself, but he knew what the guide was talking about. He had pretended to pay attention before, and the guide was right—it WAS nicer to listen to the wind in the trees, soft, then louder, dying away, then soft again . . . . and the breeze felt nice when it would move the thick humid air around, giving at least a LITTLE relief. And he kept looking at the buckle, trying to figure out what pattern the guide had been talking about. Sometimes he’d almost catch something, almost.

The guide continued, and the kid smiled politely and nodded occasionally, but the muscles in his face had gotten flat and his nods had the tiny jerks of someone who’s not really paying attention at all. “And you know that you’re a kid who’s judged people in the past, sometimes rightly and sometimes not. (The kid knew it was true.) You’re from out of state (also true). You’re a fish out of water here, kid (he certainly knew THAT was true). And you’re a little surprised that you’ve actually been able to make a connection with someone dressed like I am, and that’s all right now, isn’t it. (He wasn’t sure, but that all seemed true enough it wasn’t worth worrying about). I’m sure you’re not happy feeling like you don’t fit in, so we’re going to help you with that, which you can think about how nice that’ll be, if you like. I’m sure no one around here would want you to do anything but enjoy how you can learn to feel good here, in Texas. It’s amazing how, as you breathe and feel good, one can discover you feel connected to someone as he talks to you, and you can continue to figure out the pattern in my buckle, and I’d like you to let me know when you see it clearly.” As he said this, he moved somewhat so the Alamo, that small white building with the unique front, was to his right. The kid’s eyes moved to track the buckle and, from here, he could see it more squarely, but it was brighter, too.

“As you keep looking at the pattern, the light from this angle is better,” the guide said, though, as he said it, he gestured to his right. The kid briefly glanced at the building, then back to the buckle. “As you look, I’m sure you’re unconscious . . . . can figure out what would be the most interesting pattern to see here, and I’m sure that your conscious mind has no clue what that pattern is because, as you know, you don’t see patterns well with the front part of you’re mine, but rather, you can feel the pattern of connection most strongly as you defocus your eyes so you can feel connect to me as I talk to you about what you really know you need to see.” Again, the guide gestured to his right and the kid looked briefly that way—nothing but the Alamo in the distance. When he looked back at the buckle, the glints made all the background seem to go dark . . . . though, by this time, he felt too good to really care. That damned pattern was just so HARD to figure out, though he began to feel there was some sort of shape welling up in the back of his mind.

“And what’s so important for you to realize, kid, as you look at the buckle and listen to the people and the trees and feel the peace that can grow even more strongly as you pay attention, is that you want to be able to fit in here, which is why you’re so lucky you could get me as a guide. You want to fit in. You want to be even more comfortable. You enjoy our little talk here. And you can notice how badly you need what I can teach you. As you relax and just go with the flow here, son, you may be surprised to realize just how comfortable you already are with me here now and how much you look forward to when I take you into this small little building, so full of history and culture, and I’ll whisper to you all you need to know. You’ll like that a lot, now, won’t you, son?” The kid nodded politely, vacantly. Each time the man talked, he punctuated his words with a quick hand flick to his right, and suddenly the kid knew! He understood the pattern!

“It’s the Alamo!” he intended to exclaim, but it came out so quiet, almost whispered. His mouth hadn’t wanted to move very much, and if he’d cared more, he would have noticed that.

“That’s right!” the guide exclaimed. “You’re really perceptive. You should be proud of yourself for seeing that because very few people around here can see the pattern as clearly as you did.” The kid nodded. Now that he was thinking about it, it was obvious. When he saw the belt buckle, the image of the Alamo itself was in his mind’s eye, just as clear as anything.

“And when we walk in there, you can hold on to this wonderful feeling you’re enjoying us two sharing our sense of connection now, won’tcha, son.” The kid nodded. “And I will just keep whispering and you can look at the exhibits and pictures and cases, but what you can really pay attention to is how important what I’m telling you is, because the more you listen, the more you’re finding that you’re so glad you’re here. Would you like to feel even better?” The kid nodded again. “Well, close your eyes and take a moment to breathe in the peace you’ve been feeling around here and sink down into that wonderful sense of connection and trust you’ve already noticed yourself feel noooooow, don’t you.” The kid sighed as he closed his eyes and he could feel his body sinking down into the hot hot concrete, and though the sun was searing, he just didn’t care any more about something as insignificant as that.

That evening, he was late getting home and his aunt was waiting impatiently for them to go to supper.

“Sorry I’m late, Aunt Elizabeth,” he said, grinning somewhat embarrassedly. “The guide was great! I’m so lucky I found him! I didn’t realize what time it was till WAY late.” He stood there with the backpack slung over his shoulder, shuffling his feet, and Elizabeth was surprised. Somewhere, he’d gone and bought himself a cowboy hat and a leather belt with a garishly big belt buckle on it. And, she thought as she frowned to herself a little, was he developing a hint of an accent? Already? After only two days here?

“Wow, he’s fitting in quick!” she thought to herself as they walked out the door.