The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It is evening in the lodge and Anna has been avoiding me for some reason—I sat down beside her at the bar but she answered my questions with nods or one word answers while anxiously downing her drink, which today for some reason is tequila. We both had an eventful day—there was another encounter with monkeys and a good deal of birdwatching. Anna taught an in-depth course on local plants. I want to pick her brain about it, but she is midway through her fifth shot of tequila and I am not sure she is going to remember which leaves, when crushed, work as an anti-fungal. Honestly, the way she is tearing through the shots I am not sure she’s going to remember what her name is in a couple of minutes. I politely put my hand on her tanned shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I ask her.

“I’m trying to unwind,” she says.

“I think you’re unwound,” I say, smiling.

“I have a lot on my mind,” she says, getting up suddenly. “I need to think. I’m going to go for a walk.” She walks out the door before I have a chance to react. Scrambling off my stool, I follow her. She moves quickly and by the time I get outside she is already thirty feet away. I break into a sprint to catch up with her and grab her firmly by the arm before she can walk any further into the jungle.

“Anna, what are you doing? You’re drunk! You can’t just go walking in the jungle when you’re drunk, you’ll get killed.”

“I’m fine,” she says. “You spend plenty of time in the jungle after hours. I saw you yesterday with two of the girls from that tour group.

My face falls. “What did you see?” I ask quietly.

“What do you think I saw?

I feel my face get red. So she saw us somehow—Anna saw everything I did to those girls. I am mortified. And yet, there is something about this that feels so strangely familiar.

“It’s not what it seems like,” I protest. “It’s only because—”

“It’s only because they wanted you to,” she says. “Right? And now you’re going to tell me to trust you, because you would never, ever do that to me.” I fume, slightly. I can feel myself getting agitated. I am getting, angry, somehow. I almost never get angry but something inside me is telling me to allow myself this anger and I feel it rising up within me, clouding my judgement.

“I would never do that to you,” I tell her.

“You would,” she says quietly. If I ever made you angry enough you’d use it on me too. You don’t think you would, but you would.”

There is that word again. Angry. And I pause and look her in the eye because there is something in her voice when she says it that tells me that there is something I am missing.

“Well if you’re trying to make me angry, it’s working,” I tell her.

“Oh good, what an accomplishment,” she says. “I wonder if you fuck people harder when you’re angry.”

“Anna, you’re drunk. This isn’t you.”

“Maybe this IS me,” she says.

“Anna, you’re very drunk,” I tell her. “Stop it.”

“Make me stop it,” she says haughtily. Her gray eyes are laughing at me. Her wavy brown hair falls disshevelled around her face. She is wearing a white T-shirt, the neck of which is stretched out, her strong left shoulder exposed.

“Oh look at me,” she says, mocking, “I’m the big, handsome nature guide who likes to hypnotize women and fuck them senseless in the jungle. I’m the strong, powerful man who has women fall under his spell—who mesmerizes women until they’re helpless and then gropes them and leaves them panting and begging for his big cock. You’re disgusting,” she says.

“Stop it,” I tell her. I am trying to be firm but calm but I am furious. I cannot remember when I have ever been this angry.

“Fuck You,” she screams, and with that she runs at me and punches me full on in the jaw.

“What the hell are you doing??” I scream. I grab her wrists but she is wriggling to get free and she is scratching me with her nails. She pulls one hand free and manages to slap me hard, across the face. I can feel a burning red mark where her palm hit and suddenly I can feel her hand reaching for the wand.

Throwing her off me, I grab for the handle of the wand. Anna falls backward into the dirt but gets up immediately. I brace myself, holding the wand. She pulls her knife from her belt and holds it, menacingly.

“Anna, you’re drunk. You have no idea what you’re doing. We need to talk about this,” I say, but her eyes narrow.

“I don’t want to talk tonight,” she says, and with that she angles the knife and prepares to throw and without thinking, before my brain has a chance to react to what my hands are doing, I take the wand and cross it twice over her face.

Confused, she drops the knife.

“So that’s what it feels like,” she says, but manages somehow to pull herself together. She runs at me again but she is slower and I am prepared and I cross the wand three times in front of her eyes as she comes toward me. By the time she reaches me her strength is gone and her punches are light thumps on my torso, followed by her hands grasping at my shoulders to hold herself upright.

“Relax,” I tell her, the wand crossing back and forth in front of her face, and I can see her body fighting not to relax. “You aren’t angry or upset,” I tell her. “You’re just feeling very, very relaxed. Your whole body feels relaxed,” I say, and I watch the muscles in her arms begin to soften, her long, dark eyelashes fluttering as her eyelids struggle to remain open. I hold her body, even though she is no longer a threat to me. It strikes me suddenly that my use of the wand on other women has been much more recreational—the way I use it to make monkeys friendlier and to have them walk closer to the group. What I did just now with Anna was what I do with Jaguars, I think. Diffusing dangerous animals.

“Anna, why did you attack me?”

“I planted a suggestion,” she says quietly, “that if I could make you angry enough you would use the wand on me. I had to have at least a few drinks,” she says. “to go through with it.”

“What are you talking about. How could you have planted a suggestion?” I ask. She smiles dreamily, as if she is not all there.

“I don’t know,” she says coyly, slurring slightly. “How could I have? I guess I planted a suggestion and then made you forget.”

“If you wanted me to use the wand on you why wouldn’t you just ask me to do it like everyone else?”

She purses her lips, her relaxed face becoming slightly more serious.

“Because part of me wanted to know what it was like to have you use the wand on me,” she says, shaking with her honesty. “But part of me didn’t. Part of me still hated you for using it on those girls at the lodge.”

I look at her in her simple white T-shirt, her eyes struggling to stay open. Holding the wand in front of her face, I begin waving it slowly back and forth, the blue light glowing on her beautifully tanned face.

“Back and forth, Anna.”

“Back and forth,” she says.

“You are feeling more and more relaxed.”

“More relaxed.”

“You don’t hate me,” I tell her softly.

“I don’t hate you,” she says, her eyes glassy.

“The part of you that didn’t want me to use the wand on you is getting smaller and smaller,” I tell her. “And you find that the more I use the wand, the more relaxed and happy you become. She is standing up and I have one hand on the back of her head while the other crosses the wand before her eyes. Her eyes obediently follow the tip of the wand until they are enormous and blank.

“Back and forth,” I say softly.

“Back and forth.”

“So relaxed and obedient,” I say.

“Relaxed and obedient,” she repeats mindlessly.

I am watching her relax, going deeper and deeper, but I am confused as to my own actions. I swore to myself that I would never use the wand on Anna but it was as if my hand had a mind of it’s own when she ran toward me with the knife. It’s as if a part of me were programmed to do it. As if the resistance and willpower I have always used to keep myself in check had been erased because of my anger.

“You programmed me to use the wand on you,” I say suddenly. “You used the wand on me somehow. You’ve been inside my head.”

“Yes,” she says quietly.

“All right,” I say softly, into her ear. “I’m not upset. But let’s play the opposite game now. Now I’m inside yours.”

“No,” she says haltingly, suddenly unsure of herself. “I don’t...I don’t want you there.”

“Yes you do,” I tell her. “Part of you didn’t want me there, but that part of you is gone. You love feeling me inside your mind, making you feel more submissive and compliant.”

“Compliant...” she murmurs.

“There is a part of you that would never let me do this,” I say. “But that part of you is fading away as you watch the wand go back and forth. The only part that’s left is the part that’s curious about what I can do to you.”

“What you can do to me,” she whispers.

“What I will do to you,” I say. “You get aroused thinking of the two girls you saw last night. Wondering if I could do that to you next. Turn you into a blank-faced, big titted sex slave.” I pause, continually passing the wand over her eyes, which are enormous.

“Start by taking off your shirt and your bra,” I tell her, and she obediently removes her shirt. She unclasps her black bra and her breasts swing back and forth, the way they have innumerable times in my imagination. I place my hands on them and she shivers.

“You love when I touch your breasts,” I tell her.

“I love when you touch my breasts,” she says.

“You feel more and more submissive when I touch your breasts.”

“I feel more and more submissive when you touch my breasts,” she says.

“You love having big tits,” I tell her.

“I love having big tits.”

“You love fondling your own tits while you suck my cock,” I tell her, placing my hand under her chin.

“I love fondling my own tits while sucking your cock,” she says, and pushing her down to her knees, I pull out my member and place it in front of her face where she takes it into her beautiful pink mouth, her hands slowly kneading her breasts. Her hair curls gently around her face, a few pieces matted to her forehead with sweat as her blank face slides up and down on my cock. The warm, wetness of her mouth is heavenly and I feel myself getting close, watching her sweat, watching her absentmindedly fondle her own breasts, which are glazed with sweat.

“Anna, stand up,” I tell her, and she rises, her beautiful form pale against the dark trunks of the trees. She is topless but still wearing her khaki shorts with the empty knife holster. “How did you feel yesterday, seeing what I did to those girls. Answer me honestly.”

“Jealous,” she says quietly. She is tranced but still I can feel her shame at the admission. I can feel her discomfort.

“It was good that you felt jealous, Anna,” I tell her, my hands stroking her breasts. I tell her to place her hands behind her head, the way I had placed Allison previously, and she complies. She is so beautiful and vulnerable, standing half naked like this, allowing my hands to roam her body.

“You want to submit to me,” I tell her. “You know that even if you didn’t I would still love you and I would still have sex with you but I would always, always fantasize about you like this.”

“fantasize about me like this...” she says blankly.

“I would fantasize about having you hypnotized,” I tell her. “About having you completely under my control.”

“Hypnotized,” she says.

“I would lie next to you in your bed, but I would dream of seeing you naked and mindless, unable to resist my commands.”

“Naked and mindless.”

“Submissive and obedient,” I say.

“Submissive and obedient,” she repeats, her gray eyes glassy and blank.

“But why dwell on hypothetical situtions when I DO have you like this?” I say. “You were jealous and you planted whatever suggestion you planted in order to get me to use the wand on you. And congratulations, it worked. I used it. And now you’ll do whatever I ask,” I say to her.

“Whatever you ask.”

“You’ll be my blank faced, big titted sex slave.”

“I’ll be your blank faced, big titted sex slave.”

“You’ll be the shy, beautiful, brilliant tour guide by day, and in the evenings you’ll become my gorgeous hypnotized sex toy.” I begin teasing her breasts again and I feel her breathing become more rapid. “You’ll be your normal, wonderful self, and when you hear me say the phrase, “Anna, I’m getting angry,” you’ll revert to this state—feeling so relaxed and compliant—happy to do whatever I tell you to do because I make you so aroused. Happy to be my mindless sex slave.” I watch her body and she is twitching slightly, waiting for something.

Picking up her knife from the ground I place it back in the holster on her belt.

“You’re going to take off your shorts and your panties for me, Anna,” I tell her quietly. Nervously, fumbling, her hands disjointedly reach for her belt, which she seems reluctant to remove. She manages to allow the belt and shorts to fall to the ground and her body stands, uncertain.

“I’d like you to place your hands back behind your head, Anna,” I say, and she complies. I look at the gorgeous slope of her breast, curving in to her taut stomach.

“You remember before what I said about your breasts?” I say, placing my hand over her nipple, rolling it languidly through my fingers. “I said that the more your breasts are touched the more submissive you become. And now the more I touch your breasts the more you become uncontrollably aroused.”

“I...I can’t...” she is sweating now, and panting. The arousal is coursing through her and has re-awoken her somewhat. She is no longer relaxed. She is frantic and desperate and incredibly turned on.

“You can barely handle the sensations,” I say” calmly, my hands kneading her soft flesh, roaming her enormous tits. “You are trying to stay calm and in control, but if I keep doing this to you you are either going to scream or frantically beg for me to fuck you.”

“I...oh god,” she says. The muscles in her arms are twitching because she wants to take them down from behind her head—to take them down and push me away to put an end to this but she is helpless to do anything. She inadvertantly arches her back.

“You’re such a good guide,” I say softly, rubbing her nipple in slow, counter clockwise circles. I am fully clothed in my shorts and green T-shirt and she is cowering, naked and submissive, her body suddenly frail in my hands. “You’re such a good guide,” I say, “and you’re going to be a good sex toy too. You’re going to be wonderful at both things.”

“You can’t...oh god,” she says, as another wave of pleasure overtakes her. “I’m not a...”

“Yes you are,” I say softly, applying more pressure as I knead her nipple with my fingers. “Yes you will be. And you can hold out as long as you’d like, but whenever you’re ready you’re going to drop to all fours so that I can fuck you.”

She stands stubbornly, her teeth gnashing and hips bucking, a waterfall of arousal flowing along her legs and pooling in the dirt.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I tell her, my fingers cupping her breast. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’m not a...uuunnhhhh,” she moans.

“Yes you are,” I say softly.

“I’m...oh god, oh god. I’m...unnnhhh...I’m not going to...”

“Yes you will,” I tell her, stroking her nipple. “You’re going to do everything I want you to do. Anything I can dream up you’ll do and you’ll do it with a mindless smile on your beautiful face.

“I don’t want...”

“Yes, you do, Anna,” I say firmly. “You want it very much or you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation.” I continue lightly massaging her breasts, which is making her crazy and frantically aroused. I have never seen anyone resist as hard as she has. My cock feels like it is going to break through the fabric of my shorts.

“I don’t want...unnnnnghhhhh,” she says, her knees buckling from the pleasure.

“I love watching you fight, Anna. I love watching you fight because it’s so erotic to watch you fight and lose.” My hand circles her breasts slowly. I pull the wand one last time and pass the blue light before her eyes. “Back and forth,” I say.

“Back and forth.”

“You don’t have much fight left,” I tell her. “In a few moments you will drop to all fours and allow me to fuck you.”

“Allow you to fuck me,” she says, and seconds later her smooth naked body is on the ground, planted on her hands and knees, her hips grinding against nothing, begging me to enter her. Standing behind her I begin fucking her, her breasts swinging back and forth as I thrust, my hands placed on her round, perfect ass.

“You’re getting closer and closer,” I whisper and I feel her tighten around me. “You’ve never given up this much control before. You’ve always been the alert guide who could never let her guard down but your guard is down, Anna. You’re on all fours with my dick filling up your pussy—you don’t need to think anymore. Your mind is empty. You are completely open to whatever I want you to do.”

She is bucking against me, straining for release, throwing her body onto my cock in an attempt to put herself over the edge. In a few minutes I cum and her body becomes more frantic that she has not yet climaxed.

“Stop, Anna.” I say, and she stops, my dick still inside her. I reach forward and hold one of her breasts, which makes her begin to whimper again.

“You were such a good girl,” I say, “Letting me take control of you like that. You have to know that I appreciate how much you trust me and that I will always treat you well when I have you like this. On the count of three you will have the most powerful orgasm of your life,” I tell her.

“One. Two.” I pause, momentarily, excited to watch her.

“Three,” I say, and it is as if she has been hit by a gunshot. She is almost silent but I can feel her body screaming with pleasure and release—every muscle is suddenly exploding as if there are fireworks going off in her body. She twitches violently and then lies still, her body completely limp. Walking over to her, I bend down and kiss her lightly on the forehead.

Epilogue:

It is 5PM after a long day of hiking through the jungle. Anna is going through a small pamphlet of local animals with some of the tourists, pointing out the animals we encountered today and the ones we are more likely to see on tomorrow’s expedition. I love looking at her when she is in her element—she is speaking with concern, pointing out animals we are less likely to see because their habitats are being destroyed. She is smiling about something with her beautiful, even teeth.

“Hey,” I call to her. “If you’re free in ten minutes I need to talk to you about something. Meet me on the boat?” I say, and she nods, acknowledging that she has heard me, without offending the tourist woman who is currently asking her questions about parrots. I leave the lodge and the bar and the mass of tourists who linger there and head out to the riverboat we use for expeditions. I start the engine and brush away some of the smaller cobwebs. Anna arrives eleven minutes later.

“Hey,” she says. “You started up the boat?”

“I did,” I say. “And I packed sandwiches. We’re going on a trip just the two of us.”

She smiles and her eyes light up. “Just the two of us where I can relax on the boat and not have to wory about explaining anything?”

“You won’t be explaining a thing,” I say, and with that I lean in behind her, whispering the phrase, “Anna, I’m getting angry,” and I watch her face go slack as her eyes glaze. She starts to fall but I have anticipated this and I catch her and place her in a reclined chair on the boat’s deck as I drive down the river from the lodge, away from anyone who will see us.

“Deeper and more relaxed, Anna,” I whisper. “Relaxed and submissive.”

She is lying with her hair sprawled behind her. I instruct her to remove her clothes and when she has finished I lay her back on the chair, naked and gleaming with sweat. We have done this every day since I first put her under—I have taken her away to allow us to spend the evening together and we have spent hours fucking in various parts of the rainforest. I look at her and she is writhing and moaning softly, unaware of anything going on around her. I stop the boat and kneel beside her.

“Deeper and deeper, anna.”

“Deeper and deeper,” she whispers.

Most days it is just the two of us. On one of the days before Allison’s tour group left I brought her back and spent the evening with both of them, each of them frantically sucking at the other’s breasts, pleasuring each other before turning their attention to me. One evening I tranced an entire group of drunk, twenty-something girls with the wand and used them to bring me and Anna to a climax, innumerable hands and mouths licking and rubbing and sucking at our bodies. But usually it is just Anna.

“You get aroused at the thought of being my perfect, beautiful, sex toy,” I tell her, and her body heaves. I tweak her nipples and she shudders. “You want to bend over against the boat rail and offer yourself to me. You are excited for me to fuck you.”

“I am excited for you to fuck me,” she echoes.

Anna stands up with a silly smile on her face and braces herself against the rail, grinning out at the jungle as her tits swing with the rhythm of the boat. I push myself into her slowly, steadily, looking out at the banks of the river.

I will lie her down at the end of each outing, still tranced, and give her an elaborate story for her to remember. She has dozens of false memories in which we go on picnics and nature walks in the rainforest. She is happy, she told me the other day, that I’ve been encouraging her to get out more—she admits that she was spending far too much time in her room.

“It’s nice just to get out and enjoy the jungle and enjoy your company,” she had said. “I have to admit I’ve been having a really good time.”

And I look at her now, glassy eyed and smiling, her pussy dripping as she awaits my next set of instructions.

“I’m glad you’ve been having a good time, Anna,” I tell her. “I’ve been having a really good time too.”