The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The cab pulled up to the edge of Ava Reynolds’ property.

Lyndsey shifted forward from where she was seated in the back of the cab, extending exact cash to the cab-driver. The cab-driver’s hand was out to receive it. She took it from Lyndsey, and thanked her. Lyndsey then thanked the cab-driver in return, opened the cab-door, and stepped out onto the road.

Once she closed the door behind her, the cab turned away, and Lyndsey turned to face the gate of the property.

This was the kind of adventure everyone would have expected of Casey, because Casey was so headstrong. No one would have expected it of Lyndsey, since she was so shy and retiring, And that was exactly Lyndsey had wanted to do it. For once, she’d wanted to do something impressive and skillful like her sister. Something no one would ever have believed she could do.

She had to it though, Casey was much too responsible to take a stupid risk like this. Lyndsey had at least tried to mitigate her risks; she wasn’t about to sneak onto a stranger’s property. If she got caught, Miss Ava would be forgiving of her— the most that would happen would be Casey disciplining her as a guardian, and potentially Sofia disciplining her as a boss. But she’d submit herself to that fate, promise never to do it again, and then life would go on.

That was only if she got caught, though. And the whole point of this was to avoid getting caught.

She had a few things going in her favor: for one, Miss Ava didn’t have any kind of video surveillance around the perimeter of the property, because she believed her house’s location was remote enough it wasn’t necessary.

So the actual sneaking-onto-the-property part of this was going to happen completely unseen; that was definitely a point in Lyndsey’s favor. The downside to this was then Lyndsey was going to have to walk a while to actually reach the house, but once she was there, she’d have things going for her as well. The security system for the house itself was just a simple alarm which required code entry— and Lyndsey knew the code. There was a chance it hadn’t even been armed for the night yet, either. Usually Sofia took care of that each night, but in the past when both the Reynolds women had been alone without the help for short periods, they’d sometimes been wont to leave alarm unarmed. Sometimes they ed too, of course, but not always.

Even if they were going to arm it tonight, again, there was a chance they’d only be doing that before they went to bed. And while it was later in the evening, it was nowhere close to being the Reynolds-women’s bedtime, especially on a three-day summer weekend where they’d be more inclined to stay up later.

And even if they had armed the alarm, Lyndsey was going to go in an out-of-the-way side-entrance which had an alarm console, so she could just input the code there, and get in without getting caught.

Really her plan was just to go to her room, take a picture so she’d have the timestamp, and then slip out again. That way, she’d always secretly known that she’d done something daring and pulled it off. And no one would ever be able to tell her she hadn’t done it, because she would have photo-evidence to back herself up with. She wasn’t planning on telling anyone, though. If she told Casey, Casey would tell on her, and she’d get in trouble— she’d be back to facing the scenario of receiving discipline in both personal and professional form.

This was really just something she wanted to do for herself. Daring and risky like no one would have expected of her— something she could take secret pride in— and an action which involved only mitigated risk, and potential consequences she’d be equipped to face.

She was ready.

The gate itself wasn’t just straight bars all the way down— there were several horizontal bars going across, and Lyndsey knew she could use these for footholds. She climbed until she was perching on the first bar. It was a bit uncomfortable, because she simultaneously felt her torso was getting crushed at the same time as it was pushing her backward, threatening to send her falling down.

She adjusted the angle of her arms and kept her grip. She was managing the best she could.

She climbed to perch on the second bar— adjusted, held her stance. Climbed to perch on the third bar— adjusted, held her stance.

She climbed to perch on the fourth bar. It was the last bar, but near enough to the top of the gate that if she shimmied up a little, she should be able to swing herself over, and climb down the other way. She shimmied, almost lost her balance. For a heartstopping moment, she thought she was going to go careening downward. This was the danger she’d overlooked— all the rest of the plan was solid enough, but she’d forgotten something could happen to her even before she ever reached the house. Something could happen to her while no one knew where she was, and she was the only person who could protect herself at the moment. Couldn’t rely on Casey in this case, as she did in every other. Only had herself to depend on right now.

But she righted herself, despite the moment of fear, and managed to swing her legs over. Then she was sitting perched on the surface of the gate— she felt a little top-heavy, as always, and she swayed forward.

The moment of terror was happening again— if she fell—

She caught hold of the gate with her hands, and braced herself by them. That stilled her. Carefully she started shifting down, until her feet were on the fourth bar from the top, as before. She took the time to carefully turn herself around, so she was facing the gate as she moved down it. This meant she was back to partly crushing her torso, and partly being forced backwards, but all the same she made down to the third bar, and to the second, and to the first— and from there, she could finally— safely— jump to the ground.

She jumped, and landed in a crouch. She’d done that part of the climbing-over without any pain, at least.

And once she stood, she realized she’d never felt quite so relieved to be standing on her own two feet. Had never quite

appreciated the solidity of the ground beneath as much as she was in this moment, either.

The next part of her task was more tedious. She had to cross the vast expanse of property to the house itself. She got on with that tedious trek, although she found it was turning out to be less tedious than she’d expected. There was a thrill of danger and excitement to all of this, even during these more boring moments.

Sometime later, the house came into view. And sometime after that, Lyndsey had reached the side-entrance she was planning on using. This particular one had both an exterior door, and an interior door. She opened the exterior-door without any issue, and checked the alarm — it had not been armed for the night yet, validating her guess, so there was no need to input the alarm-code.

She moved to the interior-door next, but when she turned the knob, she found that this door was locked.

That staggered her for a moment. Why was this door locked?

She rifled roughly through her recent memories. Who was the last person who had used the side-entrance? Vaguely she thought she ed Sofia saying she wanted to lock the interior-door because sometimes during bad storms, the exterior-door blew open. But when had that been? Had there been a storm within the last week Lyndsey was forgetting?

If that was when and why it had been locked, then it did make sense that it was still locked. The side-entrance didn’t get used much, so clearly no one had ed to unlock the door again once the storm was over. This was really Lyndsey’s fault, anyway, for deciding to do this on a momentary whim. She hadn’t planned ahead. If she had, she would have checked to make sure this interior-door was unlocked before she’d left for the weekend.

So, her way in was locked— she had to think of another way to get inside.

She went back out through the exterior-door, and went around the front-corner of the house. She could see the deck out in behind, and the pool— a little farther and the wall of windows and sliding-doors would start, and she didn’t want to step into view. She did ease just a little bit further, though, so she could peek into the living-room.

She only caught a glimpse, but it looked like everyone was just sitting around. Miss Ava, Miss Julia, Miss Jamie, Miss Katie and Miss Lexi. So back-up plan one was also out. The sliding-doors probably were still open, but it would defeat the purpose of this whole adventure if she entered through them with everyone in the living-room staring at her the whole time.

She moved back along the side of the house. If she could climb up to the second-floor somehow, Miss Ava’s master- bedroom had a balcony. And the door to the balcony definitely didn’t lock. So she could get in that way, and get back out the same way— if she could find a way to climb up there.

She moved until she was under the balcony. If someone were standing on her shoulders right now, and they hopped a little, they’d be able to touch it, or hang off its bottom-edge. She didn’t have a collaborator here to help her, though.

She went back to the exterior-door of the side-entrance. It wasn’t too far offset from Miss Ava’s balcony.

She opened the door all the way— and looked up, again. If it were possible to stand on the top of the door— she’d be facing the balcony from the side, and she’d be higher up than if she’d had a person’s shoulders underneath her shoes. She’d have to jump, though.

This would be a lot more dangerous than climbing the gate. If she could even get up such a rickety door without tearing it from its hinges, and if she could get herself from a crouch to standing on such a narrow edge, maybe the door would be able to hold her weight without tearing from the hinges at that point. And even if she did all that— she’d then have to somehow find the leverage to jump, and then she’d have to jump far enough to hang herself over the balcony’s side. The door was at the right height for this, but no matter what it would hurt to land against her ribs. And then she wouldn’t need as much upper-body strength to get over the side— not as much as she would have needed if she’d just been hanging from the balcony’s bottom-edge. But she’d still need some.

Then if she got over, and only then— would she have made it.

But at any point in the process, she could potentially damage the side-door— leaving traces when this was supposed to be untraceable, and causing property damage— as well as harm and injure herself, still while no one knew where she was, or would be able to come looking for her.

But the idea was just so crazy— the chance of success seemed just so impossible— the risk and danger seemed so great — she wanted to be adventurous. And this idea seemed adventuresome.

It wasn’t too hard to get a foothold on the doorknob— she half-climbed her way up the doorframe, until she had her foot on

the knob. At least, for now, the door wasn’t even so much as creaking. So it didn’t seem about to tear free from its hinges.

But for the moment she felt stumped. She’d gotten this far— could she get on any further?

She tried the same method again— from the higher-point, climbing up the remainder of the doorframe. The moment she had to take her foot back off the knob again made her heart race, but then the top of the door wasn’t very far from her. She was facing the wrong way though, since she was clinging to the doorframe, and had her back to the door.

She had to try and turn—

She kept her feet braced against it, and kept one hand holding— she extended her free hand as far as it would go— she could feel the grip of the other starting to release—

She felt the top of the door come under her grip, and she eased it part of the way closed, so the top of it would be closer to her. She was still a little below it— somehow, she needed to get a knee over it.

She shifted the way she was holding off the doorframe. The top of it did have a slight lip. There was just enough space for one set of fingertips, so if she set fingertips to both sides, she’d have a full hold. She’d have to be really quick, though, because she wouldn’t be able to maintain that position for very long, considering her fingers would be the thing basically ing her body weight. Not to mention the doorframe itself might break.

The door was still close to her— she shifted until she had both sets of fingertips on each side of the doorframe’s top-lip. She put her other leg across, sturdy, to brace off the opposite side of the doorframe. She walked that leg up, scooting her body as high up the doorframe it would go. Then hooked her foot over the top of the door— closer— closer—

A gust of wind billowed. Lyndsey suppressed a shriek— but her foot had been there— the door hadn’t been blown all the way out of her reach. She still had with it. She started easing the door back towards herself by her foot-hooking. She didn’t have much longer, because her fingers were almost ready to give out. She couldn’t swing the door close all at once, though, because if it would just try to slam into place then, which would mean knocking into the side of her body, in the best case, or knocking her out of place and causing her to fall, in the worst one.

There. The door was close enough now. She contorted her body awkwardly, but she had her lower-shin over it— her upper-shin—

Her knee.

She breathed a sigh of relief. She was scared to stop bracing with her other leg though, especially when she was in such a lopsided position. For the next few seconds, it was all going to be on her fingers.

She squeezed her eyes shut, too terrified to watch what her body was doing.

She dropped the bracing-leg, and sent it up in one kick.

And then everything was still.

She opened one eye. What had just happened? Had she kicked one leg off the top of the door with the other?

No! Both her knees were over the top of the door.

She felt triumphant, but could hardly take the moment to celebrate in this position. She had to get both her hands on the front-side of the doorframe— on that top-lip only, now— side-by-side of each other.

She moved her right hand down, so she could fit her left hand behind it. Her fingers felt almost like they were going to spasm— the door was doing some of the work now, in ing part of her lower-body, but the strain from her upper-body alone was still too much.

And this moment would be worse— she had to let go with her left hand— move it, and then grab again.

She could only do it with her eyes closed again.

For the moment after her left hand released, she felt like she was in freefall— but she moved her hand instantly— and then felt the top-lip of the frame’s front-side come under fingertip. She let her hang off of that side for a moment. And canted her lower-body to try and pull the door a little closer.

She shifted her right hand so it was resting flat to the top of the frame— more something to push off with than hang down from, even though only the thumb and first finger of her hand were making , and the rest of her fingers were just touching air.

She felt like she had more leverage— but what to do with her left hand?

She tried shifting it around— that worked alright— she could push off of both hands’ first digits, instead of just one.

It was an agonizing push. But slowly her upper-body was getting a little higher— a little higher. She felt like she was slowly doing a sit-up; the crunching of her body which lead to that sensation was painful, but she was getting higher up— she pushed until she was almost doing a partial-plank in the air— she was much closer to be level with her knees, now. But this was going to be the worse part— she’d reached the hinge of her lower-back— she needed some strength there, something she could flex with to force her body the rest of the way into sitting up. And she didn’t know how to do that in this position. She couldn’t really move her hands either, since they were the thing holding her as high as she was.

The only thing she could think of doing was to pull her legs closer to her body. Hooking with her knees now, she pulled the door closer— at the same time, pushing just another inch or two higher with her hands—

She’d hinged the last hinge. She scooted her butt forward, and then she was sitting on the door.

She removed one hand from the doorframe, first, laying it on the side of the house. That made her feel stable enough to let her other hand go, returning that arm to her side. She shifted a little more, so her posture was straight.

There. She’d done the first part of this.

She shifted forward on the door, holding onto the top of it with her hand. If she could get the door, now, to move the other way— to open all the way so it was parallel to the wall. Then she could stand up with the wall against her front. That would be easier.

She scooted and scooted herself in place to make the door swing— praying it would move a bit, but praying at the same time there wouldn’t be another gust of wind— this would be the worst possible time for the door to slam into the wall— her legs would be crushed behind it.

The door started to go— it went more— weaving back and forth— she scooted a little too hard and it swung—

She caught herself against the wall with her hands.

The door was parallel to the wall now, though. That was what she’d hoped for. It was parallel, but her legs weren’t crushed. She had to kick back a little so she could bring one knee to her chest— then bring the other. There was some shifting to get both feet under her— but she scooted again until the door was completely flush to the wall. She was crouching on it, the wall was right beside her, and the balcony not far aside. With the door parallel to the wall, the jump would be much shorter.

She pushed off from the wall again, slightly, so she could lean on the wall at a diagonal angle, and started pushing herself up, out of her crouch, walking her hands as she went. The angle was helping— having the wall to brace her was helping— but each time the door jerked a little too far under her, her heart froze. Each time it seemed her body was about to bow downward in the gap, and then plummet. But then the door would steady under her, and she’d continue her progress.

She got herself to standing this way, still braced off the wall— but what about this dilemma? She was facing the wall, and not the balcony. And if the door was parallel to the wall, and not the balcony, she could not stand with her two feet beside each other— she could only balance one balcony-facing foot on it.

She turned her right foot so it was facing toward the balcony. Ah— but she could keep her left foot facing toward the wall, since her hands were still on the wall, and there was a bit of a gap before the wall, still. If she crouched her legs a little— she could jump even from this position— and the side of the balcony was so close.

This was her one chance, though. She’d either hit the side of the balcony, or fall to severe injury. She couldn’t close her eyes for this one, either.

Time to be adventurous.

She crouched her legs again, and sprang forward, not worrying about turning her left leg forward again, not worried about anything— she was traveling through air, she was traveling further than she would have if she’d tried to hop one-legged off her front-facing foot—

Her ribs hit the edge of the balcony’s side-wall— her arms were over it— she slammed her hands down, so she had at least one part of her body on the right side of it.

She kept one arm over, and put one hand on the top of the side-wall. She pushed off of it slightly, turned her left leg straight, and raised her right leg high enough to get her toe on the balcony’s bottom-edge. Then she did the same thing with her left leg. She had both sets of toes on the balcony’s bottom-edge, although this was a position she never would have been able to hope for if she’d started by hanging off the balcony’s bottom-edge with her hands.

It still wasn’t an ideal position, though. She was basically back to crouching, without much of a foothold or grip to speak of.

This was easier to solve than some of her other positions. She brought her other arm back so both were gripping the top of the side-wall. She put her hands a little a part, so her hold was better distributed. Then she pushed up at the same time as she straightened her legs— she’d gotten herself higher— from hanging half off the side to basically standing level with the balcony, but now she wasn’t even going to try anything fancy. She could just tip forward and fall— the first time falling would mean safety and not injury— and that was what she was going to do. She didn’t want to play around and try to prove her cleverness now. This was still a huge risk, and very, very dangerous. She’d only have herself to blame if after getting this far she fell to serious injury. So she just wasn’t going to take unnecessary risks anymore.

She tipped herself forward— and then gravity was pushing her— her legs were swinging up— she slammed front-first to the balcony floor.

She lay there for a moment. Again, she’d never been so grateful for something to lie on. And at least she knew Miss Ava was down in the living-room— she wouldn’t get in trouble with anyone once she went into the bedroom. So far no one knew she was here— if all went well, no one was going to know.

She was happy just to lie in place for a moment, though. She was really sore. It didn’t feel like she’d injured anything— but she was sore. The front of her body and her ribs, from slamming into the side of the balcony. Her fingers, from hanging off the doorframe. Her legs, for all the crouching she’d done. She just wanted to be still for a moment.

Once her breathing slowed down, she started to sit up. And once she’d stood, she looked back down over the balcony.

The door was still open. Bouncing lightly against the wall, in response to the wind. Even this wouldn’t look like a trace she’d left, since that door blew open all the time. Everyone would just assume that had happened again. And at least she wouldn’t have to go back down the way she’d come. Now she was inside the house. She could get to the interior-door herself, and unlock it from the inside, then go out the exterior-door as originally planned.