The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

*** Now talking in #hypnoerotica

*** Topic is ‘Look deeep in to my eyessss.....:))))’

*** Set by MessMoreEyes on Sat April 29 22:34:44

<cyndi_>

hi

<BorisL>

Now this is what I call quiet... Greeting cyndi_

<cyndi_>

yes i agree

<BorisL>

Hanging around?

<cyndi_>

nods

<BorisL>

You’re in the UK too, if I can believe my /whois

<cyndi_>

London. Just got in from work.

* BorisL steps back to let cyndi_ fall forward onto the keyboard...

<cyndi_>

naa not tired

* BorisL thinks about making some silly remark about ‘You a feeeeling verrry sleeeepy’ but thinks better of it.

<BorisL>

What are you seeking here?

<cyndi_>

Not sure. I got home and I wanted to spend some time chatting.

Saw this channel and it looked interesting.

<BorisL>

The mind control thing grabs you?

<cyndi_>

not sure, kinda new to it, find that the giving up of control is very exciting

*BorisL nods encouragingly....

<cyndi_>

Don’t know why I looked in here tonight though

*BorisL smiles smugly and says: It was my masterly Mind Control Powers that brought you here....

*cyndi_ laughs: Oh Yeah?

<BorisL>

Yeah!

<cyndi>

So, what have you been doing in your Bat Haunted Tower, Oh Master?

*BorisL looks up and thinks: Bats? So that’s what they were! I thought... never mind. And then he says: I’ve been inventing a new form of magick.

*cyndi_ nods: Uh huh?

<BorisL>

Oh, yeah. Or maybe discovering it. Depends on which babbling mystic loon you listen to.

<cyndi_>

Was it hard? Did it hurt?

<BorisL>

That’s a very personal question.... Oh, no I see...

<cyndi_>

Laughs.

<BorisL>

No, it just needs a moment of transcendental insight and I have those oooh every third Saturday.

<cyndi_>

So what’s it good for? Your new form of magick?

<BorisL>

Oh, I’m thinking of going for immortality, eternal youth and beauty and lots of sex.

<cyndi_>

Uh, huh. Nothing commercial then?

<BorisL>

No. Unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work on money. Would You Just Do Something For Me?

<cyndi_>

Of course.

<BorisL>

Give me your real name, address and telephone number.

<cyndi_>

Penny Doris Brewer. 14a Mafeking Street, Chiswick, W5, 08349 128423. That’s my mobile.

<BorisL>

That’s lovely. Doris?

<cyndi_>

I don’t use it. Why did I just I don’t think I should

<BorisL>

Don’t Worry About It. Just Relax.

<cyndi_>

Oh. OK. You were talking about your new form of magick.

<BorisL>

I think I’m going to call it pornomagy. Pornomancy is taken and pornurgy sounds silly.

<cyndi_>

How’s it work?

<BorisL>

Well, there’s two bits to any sort of magic. First you’ve got to get the power to cast the spell. You need some sort of energy: I’ve gone for sex.

<cyndi_>

Always popular.

<BorisL>

A lot of it about. Would You Just Do Something For Me?

<cyndi_>

Of course.

<BorisL>

If you have a picture of yourself send it to me.

<cyndi_>

You want the naked one? Or the one that shows my face?

<BorisL>

Both would be best.

<cyndi_>

Here they come.

<BorisL>

OK. They’re down loading now. Now, where was I? Sex. Yes. In fact sex on the Internet. I decided to use all the people who enjoy my stories to power my new magick.

<cyndi_>

How’s that work?

<BorisL>

Each time one of my stories makes someone come I get a bit of magic charge and I can tap that when I log on. I can’t charge money for it. That would spoil the mojo. But each story I put on the net for free feeds charge back to me.

<cyndi_>

OK. What’s the other bit?

<BorisL>

Using the magic. And that’s where the paradox lies. Oh, I like *both* your pictures!

<cyndi_>

Thanks. Paradox?

<BorisL>

Yes. The gathering of pornomagy energy is all about freedom. Free expression, free of cost. Right?

<cyndi_>

Uh huh.

<BorisL>

But the *use* of the energy is all about taking freedom away. Tell Me All About Yourself.

<cyndi_>

24. I’m a Civil Servant. 36D. Five foot two. No I’ve never had that sort of illness. Unmarried. No Children. I don’t have to report for work until 8-30 on Teusday.

<BorisL>

That’s not All but it will do for my purposes. You Belong To Me.

<cyndi_>

Look I think

<BorisL>

cyndi?

<cyndi_>

I await your instructions, Master. How may I serve you?

<BorisL>

It worked! I’m very pleased

<cyndi_>

I’m glad that you are pleased, Master. What worked?

<BorisL>

My nice new Big Spell. Oh I am pleased. You’re my first test run and I can’t wait to get hold of you. Do you own a car?

<cyndi_>

No, Master. I’m sorry.

<BorisL>

Don’t Worry About It. Nobody expects you anywhere over the weekend?

<cyndi_>

No Master. I was going to spend it alone.

<BorisL>

Good. Get dressed and pack what you need for the weekend. Then go to Marylebone and take the train to High Wycombe. I’ll be waiting for you on the platform.

<cyndi_>

Yes, Master. May I go now?

<BorisL>

Go now. And I’ll go and see about building up a bit more charge. For the weekend. I’ve got a few more effects I want to try out. Oh, it’s good to be a Mystic Genius!

*** cyndi_ has quit IRC (QUIT: Leaving)

“Look, I can’t see why you’re so angry.”

“No, I know you can’t. That’s the sad thing.”

“Look we aren’t that different... Surely...”

“We aren’t? How do you make that out?”

“Well, look at this place. Look at... at... at them!”

“At my little companions? They are lovely, aren’t they? And useful. And domesticated. Try a little more of the chilli. It’s very good. Or would you prefer something less spicy? My cook is a talented young lady.”

“Look. Look mister...”

“You won’t? A pity. It’s all the traditional hearty last supper you’re getting, my friend.”

At this point the man in the Hawiian shirt and lurid shorts started to weep.

“Oh, god.... God....”

“I don’t think you’re in good enough graces with Him to expect a miracle to save you.”

“Look, I know I’ve been a bad man. I’ve done some bad things. But anyone, anyone who got given what.. what you and I got given... Anyone would have...”

“I’m not disposing of you because you’re wicked. I’m not a moralist. As you said, we’re alike in that. We’ve both indulged our appetites. But you will notice that I was not indulging mine in a Florida beach front hotel with teenagers. A disgusting state you left those rooms in by the way. There was no call for that. You just seem to be a messy person. Mess, mess, mess your whole life long.”

“But look, couldn’t we come to some sort of arrangement. I can see that you’d wanna be the one in charge. I can. But I’d be useful. You give me back the power, I can be useful to you....”

“How?”

“I can.. I can get things for you. Women! I can go out and I can....”

“There are only so many hours in the day, my dear fellow. I have all the women I want or need. I can have any I take a fancy to. I just have to be careful and discreet. No, I have no need for you. Besides, if you worked for me you’d just make the same mistakes you made while working for yourself. And that would never do.”

“Mistakes? Huh? What mistakes? Huh?”

“Oh, there were so many! Do you know how I found you? You pulled the same stupid stunt not once but three times. And in the same state! You took a liking to a teenage girl (girls in one case, twin sisters). And so that the parents wouldn’t try to find them, you went and wiped the minds of the parents. Erased all memory of their children.”

“Yeah? And that was dumb? What the...”

“People, my dear fellow, frequently have more than two relatives.”

“Oh.”

“When aunts and uncles and grandparents ring up and ask ‘By the way, how’s little Judy, the light of my life?’ and parents answer ‘Who’s Judy?’ it rings alarms. It rings alarms with cops and shrinks and ministers and social services and God alone knows who else and when they start to compare notes... It was on the Internet last Tuesday. I was on a flight to Florida on the Wednesday. On the Thursday evening I found you, you repulsive little man. Living the life of Riley in Florida, smashed out of your brains on coke and booze and trying to fuck yourself to death with teenage bimbos. Gods! The things you did to warp those young women’s bodies. Those ludicrous tits on them! And their brains were worse! You made them stupider than you are and that’s saying something!”

“Look... Look... I know...”

“I’m not disposing of you because I disapprove of you. I do. But that’s not the reason. The reason is that you are a menace. To me and however many others have received this... this thing that lets us control the minds and alter the bodies of others.”

“There’s more of us?”

“You never even thought to check did you? Oh, yes there are. And the cleverer ones make sure we’re protected from being taken over. It’s not hard once you think about it. And we circle each other and keep an eye out for newcomers and idiots like you. And we wonder what it all means. If anything.”

“Oh, God. I never suspected... But look surely you don’t mean to....”

“Oh yes, I do. I’m going to restrict you. I’m going to make sure that you never, ever put me in danger again. Because if you were allowed loose you’d be a danger to me and to every other person with the power. So from dawn tomorrow you will start life as Mildred Peason, the fiftyish housekeeper to a fundementalist Christian seminary. You will have no knowledge of the sort of life you used to lead and think that people with the powers you used to have were servants of the Devil. Mildred is pious, pigheaded and very limited in imagination. She believes in the Bible and not a lot else. Unlike you, she is the sort to clean up mess not make more of it. And that will be your life for the rest of your life.”

“No! Please! No! I’ll do anything! Look, couldn’t you turn me... into one your girls! I could be...”

“You damn fool! Why would I want you among my slaves? I like my servants to have a certain minimum intelligence. And the power can take it away, but it can’t give you more wits than you were born with. No. You’re better off where you’re going. And thank your lucky stars I’m in a good mood!”

A man stands by the window. A woman, dressed in a plain hospital nightgown sits up in bed.

“What you did was very courageous. You’ve saved.... God knows how many thousands of women from suffering the way you and the others did.”

“But I didn’t save myself.”

“Ah. No. Not...”

“You can’t make it stop can you? You can’t put me back the way I was?”

“No. What he did to you has made permanent changes in your brain structure and hormonal balance. The alterations to your feelings, to your body... They can’t be reversed at our current level of knowledge. Even if your tormentor had survived.... I doubt if we would have been able to force him to work on a cure.”

“So how do I live? Tell me that? How do I live feeling like this, looking like this?” She cupped her heavy, full breasts and held them out to him. He turned his eyes away.

“You aren’t so very different from what you were...”

“Hah! How can you say that? Look at me! I can hardly think straight for the feelings for the needs... I used to be a scholar! How could anyone take me seriously....”

“Look! Listen!” She fell silent and he felt guilt at using the compulsion the swine who had twisted her had implanted. “You are not so different from other women. There are women who look as... as desirable as you do now. Yes, they have difficulty being taken seriously but that is because by and large we males are idiots and think with our cocks.” She actually felt herself smile at that.

“And there are women as intelligent as you who have the need to be dominated, to be controlled sexually. It’s natural in their case, part of their inherited brain chemistry. In your case it’s artificial, something done to you with those hideous drugs but in both cases it has to be dealt with, faced and accepted.”

“And how do you suggest I face this? How do you suggest I learn to accept the fact I want to crawl to anyone, any man any woman and say please, please, use me, take me, own me?”

“The way any intelligent woman would. Find someone who you can trust and let them use you, let them take you, let them own you.”

“I tried trusting Amanda. And see what happened.”

“You can’t blame her for that. She had no more chance of resisting the drugs....”

“Than I did?”

He was silent and looked out of the window for a while and then said: “If you don’t learn to trust and learn to think clearly about what you need, your needs will overwhelm you and you will give yourself willy-nilly. And probably destroy yourself in the process. You know that to be true.”

She bowed her head and after a moment said: “Would you want to own me?”

“Oh, my dear. In an instant. But for one thing....”

“Don’t tell me: you’re gay?”

“No but I am very married. And my wife takes all the owning and taking and using I can manage at my age.”

“Lucky her.” She thought for a moment and then said: “Does that mean.... That you’re into that sort of thing. Owning people.”

“Yes. As it happens, yes. That’s how my inherited brain chemistry is arranged.”

“Do you think you could find.... Do you think you might help me find... someone. Someone who could be trusted?”

“Yes. Yes. I can try. I will find someone to look after you. Someone good.”

A little while later he left the room. In a nearby room, behind locked doors, a man was seated on a chair watching a monitor. In it the woman in the first room lay back on her bed and brought herself time after time to a shuddering climax. He sat and smoked and watched and listened and the only sound apart from her cries was the clink of the chains he wore between the cuffs on his wrists and the ones on his ankles. Behind him a Marine stood, stony faced, a pistol at his belt.

The man from the first room came in. He strode over to the monitor and turned it off.

“Will you,” asked the man in chains. “Will you find her someone?”

“Yes. I will do that for her.”

“Good,” said the prisoner. “Good. She will need someone now.”

The captor looked down at the prisoner and thought how much he wished to kill him. He thought how much he wished he’d been allowed to kill him during the fight at his estate or even during interrogation. He wished even that he could put the prisoner on trial for what he had done. But the Powers That Be had decided: even the fact that such things were possible was too dangerous for the world to know. If they knew mind-control techniques like that worked they would duplicate them, sooner rather than later. Safer, wiser, to keep him locked up without trial so that his brain could be picked at a later date. There were places for such people. For people who had too much ingenuity for mankind’s health.

But how he longed to kill him. To show by one action that they weren’t the same kind of person, moved by the same desires. To cut himself off from the pollution in that man’s soul. He knew the prisoner thought they were twin souls. He’d said so under interrogation.

And because he could not do anything, nor say anything that would make a difference, he left the room.