The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The rest of the school day passed by torturously slowly. Tim kept looking at the clock on the classroom wall, staring at it, watching the seconds tick by. The teachers’ droning voices served as mere background noise, as his mind was on the events of the upcoming evening. He had a scenario carefully planned out, one which would serve a dual purpose: first, it would punish Ms. Davis for trying to defy him; and second, it would eliminate her boyfriend Ryan as a potential threat. When coming up with his scheme, Tim had taken inspiration from some of the adult videos he’d watched on PornHub. He’d often had daydreams about being the protagonist in one of those videos where a guy would steal some jock’s girl (especially whenever he saw classmates who had particularly good-looking girlfriends), but had never imagined he would have the opportunity to make one of those fantasies come to life. That was the power of the mind control gun, he realized—there were so many scenarios he could turn into reality with the simple press of a button.

During lunchtime, he sat at his usual spot in the cafeteria with Yang, and the two chatted as they ate the day’s menu—lukewarm macaroni and cheese. Yang kept jabbering on endlessly about Eddie’s suspension, about the upcoming update for Fortnite, and about how Tim hadn’t been online recently. Eventually, Yang noticed that Tim wasn’t exactly focused on the conversation at hand.

“The Fortnite event is going to end this weekend, dude. We need to play or we’ll miss out on our chance for the limited-time skins—bro, are you even listening?”

“…Huh? Oh. Oh, yeah, Yang, but I dunno if I’m gonna be able to play this weekend. I’ve got a lot of stuff going on.”

“A lot of stuff? What could be more important than exclusive, limited-time skins? We only have a few days to get them before they’re taken off the online marketplace, probably for at least a year.”

“Y-yeah…uhmm…I’ll try to get online. Just text me over the weekend and I’ll see what I can do.”

“See what you can do? …Tim, you’ve been acting really weird recently.”

“H-have I? What do you mean?”

“Well, you skipped school a bunch of times, you don’t answer your phone, and I really just can’t figure out what’s going on with you. You haven’t played Fortnite or Overwatch all week. Are you okay? Are you stressed because Eddie got suspended? Because if that’s what you’re worried about, we could go over to his place this afternoon, pay him a visit.”

“Oh, uh, no can do. I’ve got some plans, uhm, some family plans that I can’t get out of.”

“You sure? Because while we’re there, we could totally scope out Mrs. Berger. That’d totally cheer you up,” Yang said with a wink. Both Tim and Yang always half-jokingly teased Eddie about what a MILF his mother was. The way Mrs. Berger coddled Eddie might be embarrassing, but in all honesty, Tim and Yang were more than a little jealous of the way she doted on him.

Tim thought back to his visit to the Berger household a few days back, and the hypnotic suggestions he’d placed on Eddie’s mother. He’d told her to go on a diet, get fit, and lose a little bit of weight. In retrospect, he could have done much more than that. And perhaps he would, the next time he got a chance.

Not today, though.

“Sorry, Yang, I really can’t get out of my plans today. But I’ll definitely visit Eddie soon.”

Yang nodded and took a bite of his food, making a face.

“Making us consume food this bad should be considered cruel and unusual punishment—is this even real cheese? It tastes like melted plastic!” Yang grumbled.

Tim laughed, and the two continued chatting away for the rest of the lunch period.

Had any of Hannah Davis’ colleagues spoken to her on that day, they would have thought she was under some sort of undue stress, or feeling under the weather. Though there were no loopholes in Tim’s commands this time that would allow her to undermine him (at least, none that she could think of, no matter how hard she wracked her brain), he hadn’t controlled her emotions, and she had a looming sense of dread about the events of the upcoming evening.

Timothy had been surprisingly cruel—she’d known the young man was all hormones and his mind seemed to entirely revolve around fulfilling his various lusts, but she hadn’t realized that he had such a sadistic streak.

After he’d made her tell him her address and instructed her to leave school early, he’d let her know exactly what lay in wait for her and for Ryan that evening. She hadn’t been able to contain her shock and disgust. And she’d done something she’d never thought she’d do—she begged.

“Please, Timothy…not Ryan…don’t do that to Ryan…he’s…you haven’t even met him…why would you do something like that to someone you’ve never met? He’s never done anything to you! He’s…he’s a good man, he’s—“

Tim cut her off.

“You have to learn that there are consequences to defying my orders, Ms. Davis. Besides…by the end of the evening, you won’t care about Ryan anymore.”

He’d refused to elaborate on what that last point meant, but Hannah could only imagine what malicious tricks the teenager had up his sleeve. She shivered at the thought.

For the rest of the school day, Hannah taught her classes as usual, prepared her worksheets, and collected the stack of essays she planned to correct by next week. If the students noticed her lack of enthusiasm, none of them mentioned it—more likely, their minds were already on the upcoming weekend, as she noticed the lack of attentiveness that she’d come to expect in her Friday afternoon classes.

When Hannah heard the last bell ring, it seemed to be some sort of knell leading her to her doom. She cleaned up her papers and left Eddie’s study materials on top of her desk alongside a short note apologizing for the fact that she couldn’t be there in person to explain them to him.

Hannah had turned off her classroom’s lights and was just about to step out the door when she felt her phone vibrate. She took it out of her purse and read the text message.

‘Ryan: Can’t wait for tonight, babe! I’ll pick u up at 6. Love u’

With tears in her eyes, Hannah texted back the only thing she could.

‘Hannah: See you then. I love you so much.’

Putting the phone away, she walked down the long hallway back to her car, like a death row prisoner walking towards their execution.

Timothy was already waiting for Hannah at the entrance to her apartment building by the time she’d parked her car. He looked slightly annoyed at having had to wait outside for so long, though he had been the one to tell her they had to go to her place separately to avoid attracting attention.

Hannah ignored him, a small act of defiance on her part, as she unlocked the door to the building’s lobby. She could feel Timothy staring at her, and once they were both in the building, he walked in front of her and pressed the button for the elevator. Then, with a wan expression on his face, he spoke.

“Eventually you’ll have to give me a copy of your keys.”

Hannah shuddered slightly but said nothing as she entered the elevator, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Once the elevator doors had closed and they were on their way up, Timothy continued goading her.

“I bet Ryan has keys to your place, doesn’t he?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Hannah involuntarily nodded. She’d given Ryan keys a few months after they’d started dating.

“Heh, I thought so. I guess I can just have him give those to me today.”

Hannah let out an involuntary gasp, and glared at Timothy. He met her gaze, and continued.

“I mean, it’s not like he’ll be needing them after tonight, right?”

Before he had the chance to reply, the elevator stopped at her apartment’s floor and both of them got out.

Hannah looked around to make sure no nosey neighbors were around to see her bringing a student to her place, and then unlocked the door. Timothy immediately strode in as though he owned the place, and began looking around.

“Huh, this is a little smaller than I thought it would be. I guess teachers don’t earn that much money,” he said. He looked around her hallway, and then walked in to the living room.

“Your TV is kind of small too…wow, you’ve got a lot of books, though. What’s this one?” he said, casually picking one up from the table next to her sofa.

“The Power Broker…Robert Caro…,” he muttered, as he flipped through the pages. Evidently finding it not to his interest, he tossed it onto the sofa and then walked on towards her small kitchenette.

“Your kitchen’s small too, but you’ve got a lot of stuff…,” he said, peeking into her refrigerator. “Do you like to cook, Ms. Davis?”

“Yes. It’s one of a number of pastimes I share…with people I care about,” she said, making no effort to hide the anger and disdain in her tone of voice. As violated as she’d felt yesterday, having Timothy pawing around her things, her private possessions, felt like an extension of that violation.

In response, Timothy just smiled.

“I’ll be one of those people, soon enough,” he stated—or was it more of a threat?

He shut the door to the refrigerator and went back to surveying Hannah’s apartment. He opened up her bathroom, the laundry room (Hannah felt a bit nauseous when he grabbed some of her used underwear and put it to his nose, taking a deep sniff), and finally, her bedroom.

“So this is where you and Ryan usually fuck,” Timothy stated, flopping down onto the bed. He snuggled with one of her pillows and just lay there for a few moments while Hannah just stared at him from the doorway, seething.

After a minute or so, he sat up and his face noticeably brightened as he saw the drawers next to Hannah’s bedroom chair and vanity set. It was a mid-century oak dresser drawer that Hannah had gotten as a gift from her parents when she’d first moved in to her own place. Tim wasn’t admiring the furniture’s craftsmanship, though—instead, he scurried over to it and began opening the drawers, digging in through Hannah’s clothing, her pantyhose, panties, and brassieres, until he found what he was searching for—her lingerie drawer.

After a few moments of searching, he found what he was looking for. With trembling hands, Timothy pulled out a black lace bodysuit, and Hannah drew in a breath—she’d forgotten she owned that piece, but of course it would be the type of thing the teenager would gravitate towards. She’d only ever worn it once, during the trip she’d taken with Ryan to celebrate their one-year anniversary.

The bodysuit served no practical purpose—in fact, Hannah had debated on whether to even buy it, because it seemed so ridiculous. It was cupless and crotchless—Ryan had been shocked when he’d first seen her wearing it, but he’d certainly liked it well enough—he’d called her ‘a gourmet meal for the eyes.’ Of course, he’d done plenty more that evening than just look…in the months that followed, he pestered her a few times to wear it again, but she was too embarrassed. Eventually, Ryan had stopped asking and Hannah had gradually forgotten she’d even bought it.

Now, though, Timothy had his hands on it, and the look in his eyes made it very clear he was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Well, Ms. Davis…I think we’ve found the perfect attire for this evening—don’t you?”

He licked his lips, and beckoned Hannah into the bedroom.

She was helpless to resist.

It was almost six o’clock. Ryan Capestrani nervously paced back and forth in front of the entrance to Hannah’s apartment, mentally going through that evening’s plans. He wanted—no, needed—everything to go perfectly tonight. It was a night that the two of them would remember for the rest of their lives, after all.

First, he’d drive the two of them to his restaurant. He’d take a somewhat circuitous route, parking in the back, so that she wouldn’t notice that the restaurant’s lights were off and that it was completely empty on what would normally be a busy Friday night. They’d walk in through the staff entrance, and then walk out towards the table where they’d first met, which would be lit by candlelight. He’d had the chef prepare a full-course kaiseki meal made up of Hannah’s favorite Japanese dishes. But the best moment of the evening would come at the end, after dessert.

Ryan carefully patted the front of his bespoke suit—in its inner pocket was the engagement ring he’d purchased. When the server brought a bottle of plum wine for them to toast the evening, that’s when he’d do it—that’s when he’d propose. He’d asked the server to record the proposal on her smartphone…and capture Hannah’s expression when she realized he was asking her to marry him.

Ryan took a deep breath, grabbed his copy of Hannah’s apartment keys his pants’ pocket, and unlocked the front door.

As he stepped in, he noticed all the lights were turned off. The apartment’s entryway and living room were completely dark, and the curtains were closed. That was unusual, to say the least.

That’s strange, he wondered. Did she get caught up with something at work?

He was just about to text Hannah on his phone when he saw a sliver of light coming from beneath the bedroom door.

“Hannah?” he called out. “Are you ready to go? It’s, uh, almost time for us to head out, babe.”

“Ryan, I’m so…I’m so glad you’re here,” he heard her voice, muffled from behind the bedroom door. “Come in here and…uhm…help me with something.”

What could Hannah possibly need help with? he wondered. Curious and somewhat bemused, Ryan walked towards the bedroom. What greeted him when he opened the door was a surprising sight, and one that took his breath away.

Hanna was sitting, cross-legged, on her bed, in a come-hither pose. She was wearing eyeshadow, rouge, and bright red lipstick, looking like a teenager’s wet dream (though he’d never tell her that). Her expression was unreadable, her beautiful, emerald green eyes cast slightly downward. But what caused his cock to twitch with excitement was what she was wearing—or rather, what she wasn’t.

Ryan recognized the lingerie Hannah was wearing immediately, of course. It was burned into his brain—she’d worn it during their one-year anniversary, a sexy little black bodysuit that left her breasts and her crotch fully exposed. He could see them now, her two magnificent breasts, heaving as she took deep breaths (had Ryan been more attentive, he would have noticed she was breathing heavily due to nerves rather than any sort of sexual excitement). His eyes were drawn to the treasure that lay between her crossed thighs. He could see the curly, carefully trimmed pubic hairs exposed by the crotchless panties. When Hannah saw where his eyes were staring, she slowly uncrossed her legs, revealing her mound, and began playing with her pussy, her fingers oh-so-gently rubbing the hood of her clitoris. Ryan could tell she was already wet, and he unconsciously licked his lips.

This wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. He was torn now, between following his libido or trying to continue with the carefully-laid plans he’d set out for the evening—it was clear to him now that Hannah had her own ideas about tonight, and they didn’t involve going out for dinner. On the other hand, he thought about the expense of closing the restaurant for an evening, keeping the server and the head chef working and waiting for the two of them. He touched his breast pocket and felt the small, metal lump of the engagement ring. He winced slightly, but realized he had to at least tell Hannah that he’d booked the restaurant for the two of them, even though it would spoil a big part of the surprise.

“Hannah, babe, I…I love what you’re doing, and…I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful. I’m so sorry, but I booked the res- “

“No, Ryan, I’m…I’m the one who’s sorry,” Hannah replied, and Ryan could tell her voice was shaking. The sparkle in her eyes that he had assumed to be of excitement was—were those tears?

“Why would you be sorry? This is…you look so sexy, but it’s just that, I had made some plans, and—“

“Because all this—it was just meant to distract you,” Hannah said, and now Ryan saw her eyes dart to the right, and realized that she was looking at something behind him. Confused, he turned around, and what he saw shocked him.

It was a teenager, some chubby kid with unkempt brown hair wearing a uniform (in the back of his mind, he recognized the uniform as being the one from Hannah’s school). He’d been hiding behind the bedroom door this whole time—Ryan had been so focused on Hannah that he hadn’t even noticed the kid was there. In his hand he was holding a cheap-looking toy gun, aiming it at him.

In a split second, Ryan’s surprised confusion turned into a flash of rage and anger—had this kid sneaked into Hannah’s apartment? Had he threatened her?

Ryan’s protective instincts took over and he instinctively leaped towards the kid, his arm already pulling back into a fist, ready to knock him out and then call the cops to report an intruder. The teenager seemed surprised by the swiftness, the pure speed of his actions, and stumbled backwards. Tripping over his own two feet, the kid fell onto the floor, and Ryan’s fist hit empty air.

“You little shit!” Ryan screamed.

The teenager scrambled backwards, a shocked expression on his face, and aimed the dinky-looking gun at him, his hands shaking. Ryan couldn’t help but let out a small laugh—what did he think he was going to do with that? Pew-pew him to death?

“Watch out!” Hannah shouted from behind, and Ryan was just about to reassure her that it wasn’t a real gun, that it was just a toy, when he heard a strange, electric buzz. His legs suddenly began to wobble as they lost their strength.

The last thing Ryan felt before losing consciousness was the cool, hard wood of the bedroom floor as his body fell with a loud thud.

“Ughhhh…”

Ryan groaned, feeling a dull ache on the side of his face that he’d hit when he’d fallen and hit the floor. He opened his eyes and they slowly adjusted to the darkness and focused on what he could now see was Hannah’s bedroom wall. The lights had been turned off.

What had happened? He’d blacked out, fainted…he couldn’t remember anything, other than some strange electric buzzing sound when he’d been going after the teenage intruder. He wondered if the kid had used a taser on him. Maybe that’s what the sound had been.

How long had he been knocked out for? He realized he was sitting down. Was this the vanity chair in Hannah’s bedroom?

He tried to bring his hand up to his face, and realized he couldn’t. He tried to move his other arm, his legs. He tried turning his head. Nothing. All he could do was face forward, stare at the wall.

His stomach sank. Now he could surmise what had happened. The kid had knocked him out and tied him up.

“Hannah…” he called out. He gulped. Was she alright? Was she safe?

He recalled that the chair in Hannah’s bedroom was on a swivel and tried using his body weight to swing it around. He grunted and heaved, or tried to—his body had been bound so tightly that he couldn’t move around, even slightly.

Suddenly, he heard a click, and his eyes were momentarily blinded by bright light. Someone had turned on the bedroom’s lights. He blinked, saw someone’s shadow being cast towards the wall. The teenager?

“Hannah? Where’s Hannah…?” he said, muttering. Why couldn’t he scream? Had he been drugged? He wanted to shout for help, but was unable to raise his voice.

“Do you want to see Hannah?”

Ryan could tell—it was the squeaky voice of a teenager, dripping with arrogance and cockiness. What had he done to Hannah? Ryan considered his options—the people at the restaurant would eventually start trying to contact him when he and Hannah didn’t show up. And when Ryan didn’t answer his phone, they’d definitely call the police. But that could take hours. And who knows what could happen to him and Hannah in those hours. Maybe his best bet was to try to reason with this kid, make him realize the consequences of whatever he had planned.

“Listen…listen to me, kid…before you do anything else…think about…think about your future…whatever you do here, the cops are gonna catch you eventually…but if you let me and Hannah go, we’ll-we won’t tell the police. You can just walk away from this…”

He heard an impatient sigh, could picture the teenager shaking his head.

“Mister, what makes you think the police are going to catch me?”

“There’s…there’s people who are waiting for Hannah and me—when they see we haven’t arrived at the appointed time, they’ll start to worry and—“

“Ohhhh, your little restaurant date? You already called and cancelled that. And trust me, you were very convincing. You even gave the chef and the waitress overtime pay—I don’t think they’re going to be calling anyone, much less the police.”

“Called—? What the hell are you talking about?” Had the teen impersonated him somehow? Impossible—their voices sounded nothing alike. More likely, he was lying. Or worse.

“You wouldn’t remember. I implanted a few commands in your brain, but you’re not consciously aware of any of them. I thought it would be more fun this way.”

Implanted? What the fuck was the kid talking about? Ryan gasped in the horrible realization that this wasn’t just some teen intruder, or a stalker. The teenager was clearly mentally unbalanced, delusional.

“I bet you think I’m crazy or something,” he heard the teen say. Ryan could feel the boy’s breath on the back of his neck and realized he was leaning over him.

“N-no, I don’t think that at all…but I just want you to think…is Hannah, I mean, Ms. Davis your teacher? She’s always telling me how much she cares about, worries about her students—I’m sure you know that…consider how she must feel…about what you’re doing.”

He tried to keep the teenager engaged, trying to elicit information as Ryan tried to figure out what was going on.

“Talk to me, kid -what’s your name? My name’s Ryan. I’m Ms. Davis’, uh, I’m her friend. Let’s just talk, okay?”

“I know exactly who you are—Ryan Capestrani.”

“Okay…then you have me at a disadvantage.”

“My name’s Timothy. You can call me Tim. Or Master.”

Ryan ignored the last part of what the kid had said.

“Okay, okay, now we’re getting somewhere, Tim. Listen, do you have, uh, maybe a crush on Ms. Davis? You followed her home to her apartment, maybe tried to pay her a visit to tell her how you feel? Maybe used that toy gun of yours to scare her into letting you into her place? You-you know that’s not right, don’t you?”

The teen let out an annoyed sigh.

“You’re so far off, Ryan. Ms. Davis loves me—or she will, after tonight, anyway.”

Ryan felt a chill go down his spine.

“And lucky you, you’re gonna get a front-row seat.”

At that moment, he felt the back of the chair being grasped. The teenager—Tim—swiveled the chair around, and Ryan’s field of vision suddenly changed. He was no longer looking at the wall. Now, he was facing the bed, on which Hannah was lying, still wearing the lacy bodysuit, her most private areas, her breasts and genitals, utterly exposed. She was on her side, one arm holding up her head, looking towards Ryan with an embarrassed, horrified expression.

“Oh God, no, what are you planning to do…Tim…kid, please…please…stop…” As much as he tried to shout, for some reason the volume of Ryan’s voice refused to go up.

From the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Tim walk towards the bed, a lustful expression on his face.

As Tim did so, he was unbuttoning his school shirt.

“No, no, no…”

Tim looked towards Ryan and gave a slight, superior smile.

“Ryan, just sit back, watch, be quiet…and enjoy the show.”

Unable to speak, unable to look away, Ryan let out an internal scream.