The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

James woke up with the same familiar bag over his head. He felt someone reaching under it to remove his gag, and that half a second was all he needed to recognize the familiar blue-and-white tiles. Try though he did to evade the FBI’s LA Field Division, he had been dragged back into his old workspace.

“Kirkland, it’s time to listen to orders for once in your life.” The voice in front of him belonged to Collins, his old superior. This harsh, unforgiving tone was the one he kept in reserve for special occasions, when agents made their major, once-in-a-lifetime fuck-ups. “Before you try to be stupid and hypnotize any of us, know that one of our agents is in a different, sound-proof room, reading only the transcript of this interrogation.”

“Is this a challenge to hypnotize someone over text?” James knew very well his luck had run out when it came to hypnosis. He had been captured by drug lords several times before, but he always found his way out with a bit of sweet-talking. This time, the FBI had full knowledge of his powers, and had taken all the necessary precautions to render them useless.

Collins continued undisturbed. “Three things will happen in the next hour. One, you tell me who you work for. Two, you will clear all your commands from those women, and they will walk freely. Three, you will be shipped off to wherever is deemed necessary.”

“I can do number two”, James began his negotiations, “for a price”.

“So you want a trade already? The best offer I can make you in your current state is going to a Supermax instead of a black site on a different continent.”

He needed to start sounding accommodating. The FBI knew he had no interrogation training, so it was better to look like he folded easily. “If that’s the game you’re playing … I’ll do it. But only on the condition they aren’t hurt.”

“They won’t be. As far as the investigation is concerned, they’re innocent bystanders who you brainwashed to do your bidding. And that’s the truth.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” he called out.

His slaves were here. The bag was still over his head, preventing him from seeing their faces, but he could smell Whitworth’s expensive perfume from a mile away. “Could you send Laura Van Beek in first?” he asked.

“You don’t dictate the here”, came Collins’ firm reply. And yet they sent her in first anyway, in all likelihood because she had the highest value of the women present.

James made another request. “Can you remove the headbag first? Eye is an important part of de-programming as much as it is of programming.”

Someone behind him pulled it off, and he could see again for the first time since the arrest at the freeway. The space they had reserved for him was remarkably open: it was a corner of his old office space used for the water cooler and the vending machines. Laura was led next to him in handcuffs, and he could see the other four girls waiting in line behind the servers. He stifled a laugh as he saw Julia still reaching to tongue-kiss Monica, following the last orders she had been given before an agent stepped in to stop them.

“Come here”, he uttered weakly to Laura, who was only in the leggings and sports bra she had left training with. He brought her ear close to his face, and began whispering.

“Phhhhhh yhh whhh uh whhh nh mhhhhhhh ahhhh bhhhh hhhhhhhhhh. Ahh ah lhhhh bhhhhh shh whh mh shhhh, ahh phhhh ohhhhhhhh th ohhhhhhh mh rhhhhh hhhh”

“Kirkland, speak louder if you are so inclined.” He ignored Collins’ remark and snapped his fingers, bringing Laura back to consciousness.

“What … happened? Why am I here?” Laura asked no one in particular as she looked around at her surroundings. A friendly-looking FBI agent was waiting for this moment, and took Laura to a different room to likely explain everything and ask some questions of her own.

The process didn’t differ much for the other four girls. He whispered the same phrases to each one, and they all woke up in a confused state before being led off. Collins was watching the entire time, occasionally interrupting to ask James questions of technical nature. With Julia last, he had relinquished his control over all slaves, and had thus lost his last leverage. As far as the FBI was concerned, he was dead to them.

It had been five hours since James had de-programmed the slaves, but the scene in the department hadn’t changed much. There were certainly fewer people, as most who weren’t concerned with the antics of the crazy mind control guy had completed their working day and left. Of those who had stayed, he could only count a dozen that were occupied with him directly, including Porter who continued to monitor the discussion’s text feed from a glass room that had been hastily converted for this occasion. James could tell all this, since Collins had left him without a headbag ever since he had de-programmed the ladies, as a ‘sign of good will’. The gag was still present when not answering questions, but still. His transfer away from the department was a matter of time, only prolonged by James either refusing to answer basic questions, or answering them in excruciating detail.

All of a sudden, the power went out. Everyone looked around in confusion, except for Collins who refused to take his eyes off his rogue agent. There was still enough sunlight to illuminate the room, but it was slowly fading as time ed. The backup generators roared to life, reactivating the bright lights on the ceiling, but only for mere seconds as they, too, failed. That was one too many coincidences.

“Porter, Davis! Go investigate the generators, see what the fuck went wrong!” Collins was outraged at this double power failure, never before seen in the history of the LA Field Division building. He looked back to James, who still had the look of a defeated man. “I told you not to be stupid…” Collins warned him.

Emily, one of the few remaining employees, approached a duct to determine something. “The smell in the air is kinda weirrrhhhh…” She didn’t have the time to finish her sentence, as she collapsed to the floor from what was evidently some kind of gas being vented in.

“Everyone”, Collins screamed angrily, “open every window and cover the ducts! Don’t take any breaths near them!” The remaining employees jumped into action to protect the floor from a seeming attack, some opening the windows as wide as possible and others carefully approaching the ducts to cover them with carpets. “I don’t know who you’re working for, Kirkland,” Collins said to him in outrage, “but you will pay for these antics!”

Six minutes earlier

“Agent Julia Ashford.” Wearing her trademark black leather jacket, the blonde showed her FBI credentials to the men at the entrance, who were used to seeing her come for work nearly every day. “I’m here to accompany these four women who were taken for questioning earlier and are here to pick up their belongings.” The guard in charge shrugged and buzzed the door open for them. Julia walked into the lobby and knocked on the door of the security camera room with the kindest smile she could muster. No sooner had the door opened than the two employees were lying unconscious thanks to her tranquilizer darts. Laura and Monica, following a few feet behind her, took care of the other guards with a few well-placed shots. The building was free real estate now.

Back at the parking lot, Anne and Samantha unloaded a number of firearms and other gadgets from their car’s trunk, which they soon distributed between the five girls. As they checked every corner of the ground floor, there was only one concern on every woman’s mind: rescue Master.

Julia knew the location of every important facility like the palm of her hand: the switchboard, the backup generators, as well as the central air circulation system. A large tank of liquified sleeping gas, courtesy of Oversight much like everything else, was inserted into the air circulation, and soon the gas was seeping into every floor of the Field Division.

From the cameras, Samantha was now monitoring every corner of the building and saw countless figures start dropping at one whiff of the gas. All except those on the floor they ed James being on. That one they would have to take care of themselves.

The sound of sporadic, suppressed gunfire, was the first warning sign for Collins and the last remaining employees he could count on. Nineteen in their entirety, but with no weapons and very few trained fighters.

The two guards next to the elevator were seen dropping before the unbelievable sight of four women, all of them quite young, carrying weapons and advancing in formation towards their objective. James couldn’t help but smile at the sight: his slaves, whom he had shown the way of servitude to, paying back for their gift. Obviously, his secret last commands could never be “turn back into your old self and forget how good Master’s hands on your tits feel”. The first step now was to duck down, together with the chair he was strapped to, and let the girls shoot without fear of hitting their Master by mistake.

Collins had no time to make witty remarks about James’ tremendous achievement: he was playing the role of commander, ordering his employees around and trying to find any sort of defensive weaponry. An attempt at phoning for help revealed that, to his dismay, an electronic jammer was present near the building.

What followed could only be described as a one-sided firefight. James was surprised at the organization with which his slaves fought, but he ed that their training day at the camp had, for once, not been about hypnotic training, but combat. His decision to prepare his five slaves as elite, sexy-as-hell bodyguards, combined with Oversight’s supply of weapons, had been a last-minute blessing.

Laura was the first to reach James while the others covered her flanks with suppressive fire. She took off his gag, unlocked his handcuffs with a key that Julia had thankfully located, and handed him a pistol. James could not resist such a beautiful moment: he met her lips and went for a ionate kiss for only a second before they were back in action.

“Thank you for saving me,” he said to her.

“Thank you for saving me, Master,” she replied with all the devotion in the world.

The two turned around, only to see Director Collins in action despite his old age. While James’ squad was advancing to rescue their Master, he had sneakily made it back to the elevator, where the two guards lay unconscious. Grabbing both their handguns, Collins rode a new wave of confidence and started firing.

James, still processing the entire mission, started realizing how precarious the situation was. All his slaves were too busy holding down other employees to deal with Collins, who stayed near the elevator and denied him and the rest their only exit route. Julia and Monica looked back at him with concern on their faces, not knowing what their Master was commanding anymore. A few scared employees were still hiding beneath their desks and shaking in fear. Then, James saw a familiar face, and he ed an old story from his time at the FBI.

Ashley had been the Bureau’s newest recruit for the FBI Field Division. She seemed like a genuinely comionate person, and looked cute too. Both great reasons for James to take an interest in her, and being a newbie, she didn’t know the full extent of his powers like most other colleagues did. Thus, she made an ideal candidate for some training to brush up his hypnosis skills.

“Hey Ashley, what are you working on?” he asked, approaching her when she was at her cubicle but didn’t look too busy.

“Nothing too important, why are you aski- oh, what is that?” She had turned her head around, only to be met with the sight of a stopwatch that James loved to have around in his office, and was now holding.

“Just something cool, I thought you’d want to take a look.” He was swinging it at a steady, slow pace, disorienting her.

“Maybe I do, if you could only make it go slower so I can focus…” she said, curious to give it a closer inspection.

“Don’t worry, you can focus on it even now. At least your subconscious can, it is already occupied watching the gentle swing… back… and forth…”

“Back… and forth…” Ashley had been caught completely off guard, barely even ing that the guy holding the watch was the one renowned for his skills in hypnosis.

“That’s right… I can see you want to take a nap… The new job is so stressful…” She was really a natural—zero inhibitions to hypnosis, letting it all get into her head. “And in three… two… one… Sleep!” He snapped his fingers, and she slumped back against her chair, out like a light.

“Listen to me, Ashley. When I say the phrase ‘be my little nightingale’, you will return to this state of trance and obey my every command. Do you understand?”

“Yes…” He made sure to always leave his subjects with trigger phrases, in case he needed them in the future, for a one-night stand or anything. Oh, and speaking of one-night stands.

“Ashley, I have another order for you. Do you want to hear it?”

The same evening, James heard a knock on his apartment door. He went to open it, dressed in a T-shirt from his favorite band.

“Hi, James!” There she was. Ashley from work was nearly unrecognizable as she stood before him: her makeup was impeccable, her hair looked twice as voluminous, and the turquoise ball dress did a great job at showing off her tits. “Funnily enough, I don’t actually why I’m here…”

“Go to him, dressed in an exquisite look,” James prompted her.

“And my mind will open for Master like a book,” she completed her trigger phrase, shoving her tongue down his throat before he could even congratulate her. Running inside the best she could in her stiletto heels, she tackled him onto the couch, taking off his clothes like a maniac. He did much of the same, unzipping her dress and casting it aside.

Ashley lay naked above him, giving him a chance to ire her form without any of those pesky workplace concerns. First, he gave her prominent bust two kisses, prompting her to return the favor with a few ionate pecks on his neck that left her red lipstick imprinted on it. James hadn’t felt this turned on in weeks, and so he pulled her tight body closer as he thrust into her with full force. Ashley moaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear—as he would later find out, this had been her first time feeling a man’s warmth in months. She was currently single, though to her scrambled mind, all that mattered was to please the man whose apartment she was in. And please she did.

James fucked Ashley all night—on the couch, over the kitchen table, against the lobby’s walls. His co-worker showed no signs of slowing down, not when her brain had been temporarily re-wired with the singular goal of sexual servitude.

Early in the next morning, they were in the bedroom, her bouncing wildly on Master’s cock after a brief break to regain some stamina. James snapped his fingers, ordering the woman to return to her home with his post-hypnotic triggers in place as before. Ashley obeyed: she took a cab back, opened the door to her apartment, and immediately fell asleep face-down on her couch from exhaustion. She would sleep through her entire shift at the Field Division, but her superior was thankfully ‘convinced’ to give her the day off.

He couldn’t recollect Ashley’s last name as he looked at her, cowering in fear under the desk. But she was in a prime location: left of Collins, concealed by the desk so that he wouldn’t notice her coming.

“Ashley!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. He paused for a second until he had attracted her full attention and she had ed her trigger. “Be my little nightingale.” He had thought of better trigger phrases before, but this would prove to be by far the most useful one. Ashley’s eyes rolled back, and when they focused back on him, she was a different woman. An obedient woman.

“Tackle him!” His shout was accompanied by the proper hand movements to ensure he got the point across over the sound of gunfire. Collins had noticed none of this interaction, too busy emptying his rounds into Julia’s cover. Perhaps he wasn’t the only agent that the Director had a grudge against, James thought.

He had expected Ashley to make a war cry as she made a move against the director. Instead, in complete silence and dedication, she snuck outside of his field of view while still considered an ally, and lunged at him.

The next second, Collins was on the ground, struggling to get up. James gave his his next directives: “Take his guns and leave!” Ashley had no problem following these orders, and left him unarmed and harmless for the most part. The fighting spirit had not abandoned him yet, but as soon as he was up again, he was met with a tranquilizer dart from Julia.

From there, the tide of battle swept away the last FBI holdouts that were left with no leader, and now even one defector to James’ harem. As he helped his slaves take care of the last resistance, he looked down at the various employees and agents lying unconscious. Was it worth recruiting any of them? No, James thought, a couple had the skills, but none had the looks.

It was time to depart. James whistled to the five girls spread around the floor to him and leave. Laura handed him an earpiece, with which he could now communicate with the organizer of this escape: Oversight.

“You beautiful son of a bitch, you did it!” James shouted into the earpiece.

“I hoped you wouldn’t doubt me”, Oversight’s altered voice replied. “Now pack it up, and get out of there. Don’t forget Samantha, she’s still at the entrance turning away visitors.”

“Will do.” James looked around, realizing he still wasn’t past the finish line: he would need to cross the border for that, but leaving now with all his slaves would ensure at least one employee would slowly come to his senses and sound an alarm before he was past airport customs. Thankfully, Ashley was the solution.

“Welcome back, Ashley.” Her stare was blank, and her handgun was pointed at nothing in particular. James corrected that, dragging her arm to point at a group of unconscious agents. “Do you still trust me?”

“Like no one else in the world, Master,” came her obedient reply.

“Then keeping a watch over your old colleagues will be no problem. Wait for my signal on the intercom, and when it comes, run like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Yes, Master. I am only loyal to you,” Ashley said, adjusting her aim as she did.

“Here is where you’ll meet me, whenever you can.” He took a piece of paper from a nearby desk and scribbled the name of a location.

“That sounds wonderful, Master. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His parting gift to slave Ashley was a canister of sleeping gas and a mask, just in case.

I concluded there was one positive to my arrest at the hands of law enforcement, or at least the circumstances in which it happened. Had I been caught at the airport, my plans to escape using Monica’s private jet as a getaway vehicle would have been quickly unraveled, dooming us to failure. Instead, police had grabbed me further north, where in the eyes of the FBI my goal was merely a normal border crossing by land.

Thus, Julia drove us to the John Wayne Airport with the Bureau still in the dark about the events that had transpired while I was in captivity. Samantha produced the ports she had hidden inside her bra, and we confidently handed them to customs before boarding the luxury jet. Thanks to Monica’s calls in the few hours between her “release” from my power and the rescue, it was fueled and piloted. Soon, we were airborne.

“Ashley, can you hear me?” I spoke over the phone half an hour later.

“Yes, Master. Loud and clear,” my co-worker replied over her earpiece.

“It’s time. We have officially entered Mexican airspace. Your work is done. Leave the department and run as fast as you can.”

As I uttered the last word, both of us abandoned the conversation. Ashley, to drop the extra equipment weighing her down and start running through the endless hallways of the FBI Field Division. Me, to signal the beginning of the never-ending orgy that was about to begin in the safety of Mexican airspace.

A naked Laura was bent over one of the jet’s few seats, licking Anne’s cunt clean as she spread her legs wider and wider with each minute that she spent anticipating me. I wasted no time in entering my first slave, pistoning in and out of her pussy with all my stamina.

As I did, an obedient Julia fetched me a bottle of champagne from the fridge, which had been left by Monica’s boyfriend—technically, it was his name on the lease agreement, making it all the more difficult to track our moves. He would be no doubt heartbroken by the model’s sudden disappearance, but at least the FBI would cover it up to hide their own incompetence. He didn’t need to know that she was serving a different man now.

Popping the champagne open, I showered Laura with the drink, making her body glisten as the sun set over the Pacific. I poured some into her mouth, mixing it with Anne’s juices. “This is only the beginning for you, slave. And for the rest of you.”

“Yes, Master,” Laura replied as she took a moment to breathe and reaffirm her allegiance to me. The other slaves echoed her sentiment, and would all soon the Mile High Club.