The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mr. Leigh continued lecturing about his travels for the rest of class. (Mr. Mathers never reappeared.) And the Californian was positively spellbinding, let me tell you. As he talked, he would produce large photographs from his travels, which he’d around.

When the bell rang, no-one budged until our guest finished his last story. “So I hope you all travel the world someday,” he concluded, with a bright smile. We all applauded without hesitation; he was that entertaining.

Then students snatched their books and hurried for their next class. Madison gave me a knowing glance as she left, knowing full well what I planned to do. I held back, allowing the classroom to empty.

And then… it was just Mr. Leigh and myself. We were alone.

The businessman was packing up his briefcase, unaware I was standing behind him. I could catch him off-guard. Perfect.

Outside the classroom, the bell rang again. I was now officially skipping my next class. It would be worth it if I could pull this off. All Mr. Leigh had to do was look at my breasts, and I was up fifty points. One little glance. Fifty points. I could do it.

Walking as silently as I could, I approached Mr. Leigh.

“Excuse me,” I said, softly.

The Californian jumped, whirling around. I smiled, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Leigh,” I murmured, casually fingering the top button of my blouse. “I just wanted to say…” I leaned in just a little more. “…how much I enjoyed your talk.”

“Oh,” said Mr. Leigh, caught off-guard.

I raised two fingers, lightly rubbing one breast ever so gently.

And then… yes! His brown eyes flicked downward. Unmistakably, he was staring at my chest.

I smiled in victory. “Thank you,” I said, already spinning on my heels. Now to escape!

As I reached the door, that deep voice said, “Just a moment, please.”

I paused. I should have darted into the hallway without hesitation. But for reasons I’ve never understood, I never turned that doorknob.

Mr. Leigh approached me from behind. From his footfalls, I could tell he had regained his composure.

“You liked my talk, eh?” he said graciously. “What is your name, please?”

Feeling both excited and scared, I turned slightly. “Hannah,” I said honestly.

“Look at me, Hannah,” Mr. Leigh said, ever so softly.

I turned around. Our eyes met.

Mr. Leigh smiled, a small movement of his perfect lips. “You are a pretty one,” he told me. “Do you know why I really came to Alabama? To your school?”

“No,” I said. But I think I already knew.

“When I snap my fingers, Hannah,” the man told me, speaking with absolute authority, “you will be unable to pick your feet off the floor.”

And he snapped his fingers, once, right before my eyes. The click sounded thunderous in my mind.

I blinked, exactly once. In that moment, I realized two things: First, I knew there was nothing physically wrong with my legs, my feet, my shoes, or the floor. And yet, I also knew I had lost the power to lift either foot so much as an inch. I simply couldn’t budge my own legs. I was rooted on the spot like a flower in the earth.

How did Mr. Leigh do this to me? To this day, I have no idea. There was no “Look into my eyes,” or “You are falling into a trance,” or “As I count from five to one,” or anything like that. He simply told me that my legs were paralyzed, and that was it. I was caught.

Never taking his eyes from mine, Mr. Leigh lifted the books from my arms and then carelessly dropped them on the floor. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” his deep voice commented, rippling through my mind like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He drew closer.

And then we were standing toe-to-toe. I felt him reach around behind me, and then there was a soft click as he pushed the lock button on the doorknob. I couldn’t look away from him.

With complete confidence, Mr. Leigh stepped forward and kissed me. He simply put his lips upon mine and we were kissing. A full-on, deep French kiss. I thinking his breath was cool and sensuous. I felt my body melt against his. My eyes closed and I leaned against him.

I could feel Mr. Leigh’s chest again my own, and his erection poking at me through his tros. As I kissed him back, I felt those big, powerful hands on my hips, then sliding up my sides, over my breasts, my collarbone, over my shoulders, then down my back.

His touch was incredible; warm, with the exact amount of soft pressure from both palms and fingers. Wherever it roamed, my muscles dissolved as if they were turned into butter. I once experienced a professional massage as an exotic present on my sixteenth birthday; Mr. Leigh’s hands touched me like that.

Our kiss ended, and Mr. Leigh started speaking to me. “And now, Hannah,” he said softly, right into my ear, “you will find that wherever I touch you, your body and your muscles will become relaxed, so very relaxed, so relaxed, indeed, that you will cease to control them. Allow yourself to sink deeper and deeper into relaxation as my hands guide you into a deep, deep sleep.”

And he continued speaking, his soft tones lulling my mind into abstraction and submission. Dully, I felt his hands swarm over my body, and he was right; wherever they wandered, my muscles relaxed and were no longer mine to command.

Mr. Leigh’s palms and fingers swept over me again and again, and not just concentrating on my chest and rear, as my boyfriend would do. No, the Californian man took care to caress every inch of my body, at least above the knees. I felt him over my face, and amazingly, my cheeks and mouth gave up all tension and melted into his control. His fingers swept over my neck, and it turned to rubber instantly. I felt my head grow heavy and descend forward.

All the while, the strange man continued speaking to me, telling me how I was letting go, falling asleep, and drifting into his power. I knew I was being hypnotized, yet there was nothing I could do to stop my body and my mind from submitting to his will. My own thoughts grew small and meek as his voice swelled up within.

Soon I believed everything he told me. I wanted to obey him. I was his.

I have no idea how long I was in his spell. I only vaguely a blissful dream, where I was aware of nothing but Mr. Leigh’s voice, commanding me and controlling me. I could have stayed in his magic sleep forever.

And then Mr. Leigh was counting, and I felt myself opening my eyes. I looked up at him, lost for words. A desire, a sharp desire, was blooming in my mind.

Without thinking, I moved to Mr. Mathers’ desk, lifting up my skirt as I walked. My fingers found my underwear, and in two swift movements, I pulled it down below my knees, then stepped out of it completely.

I then gripped both sides of the wide desk, bending over it, and standing slightly on my toes. As I did this, I felt my vagina beginning to get wet.

Mr. Leigh was directly behind me. And then his hands were lifting my skirt, caressing my naked buttocks, exploring my underside. I gasped and allowed my eyes to close as those powerful but gentle fingers probed me. I felt him position his body directly between my legs.

I felt those magic hands vanish. And then I heard a belt buckle unfasten, a zipper open, and cloth rustle to the ground. Mr. Leigh pushed against me once again, his fingers carefully lifting my buttocks up and to the side. I felt cold air kiss my vagina.

And then something else nudged it, something warm and round and firm. Mr. Leigh was pressing his cock, his enormous, life-giving cock right against my clit. I’ve been fucked from behind before, but this was something beyond sensuous. I felt myself quiver as the head of his penis just barely dabbed the outside of my two lips.

I let out a soft, high-pitched squeal, my first sex noise. I felt completely helpless, yet delighted. In the back of my mind, I think I knew that my submissiveness and my arousal were placed in my mind by my new master and I couldn’t resist them. But I didn’t want to resist. I wanted to be dominated, both sexually and mentally. I wanted to be enslaved.

And as these perverse thoughts flowed through my hypnotized mind, Mr. Leigh took the time to position the both of us for fucking. He pushed my torso down onto the desk while spreading my legs further.

And then, Mr. Leigh began thrusting into me. At first, he was slow and gentle, carefully exploring my vagina. It was as if he didn’t want to break me. I closed my eyes tighter, leaning into his cock. I suddenly wanted him to fuck me, hard. I wanted him to pound me so hard, the desk would be propelled across the room.

“Harder,” I gasped. It was half a plea, half an order.

And Mr. Leigh did not disappoint. He accelerated his rhythm, pumping deeper and deeper into me. I hung on, loving it all.

His pelvis began slapping up against my backside and his fingers, once so gently, now dug deep into my flesh. He rocketed on, faster and deeper, always faster and deeper. My sex noises grew higher and more excited.

And we fucked. We fucked like we were the only two people in the world. We fucked harder than I’d ever done with any of my boyfriends, including my then-current beau. I thought I’d experienced throbbing manhood before, but this was beyond what I’d ever imagined. I never wanted it to stop.

Mr. Leigh’s voice suddenly sounded in my mind. And now, it said, you will climax. You will climax fully and without control. Climax now, for me!

I still have no idea if he physically spoke those words or if this was a hypnotic command coming awake from deep within my mind. All I knew was that Mr. Leigh now controlled my vagina, and he wanted me to cum.

So cum I did. I couldn’t stop it. I came like a river bursting through a high dam. I came like a tidal wave striking a beach. I came like the planets and stars were shaking and falling from the sky. I the strength of my orgasm was so great, I could barely muster the strength to hold on to the desk.

Mr. Leigh came at the same time. I could feel him, his cock roaring to life inside me. I can’t explain it fully, but I felt it.

And still he and I fucked. We thundered on, pounding one another harder and harder, drinking in the rewards of our carnal union.

I climaxed, as did he. His cock slowed, then gradually came to a stop. The two of us remained clinging to the desk, his penis still within me, neither of us willing or able to move.

And then, Mr. Leigh slowly pulled out. I clenched my vagina muscles as he did, as if I could foolishly clamp onto him and keep him within me. I guess I was really into the moment at the time.

Mr. Leigh playfully slapped my butt, then released me entirely. “Stand up,” he ordered me. “We have to discuss what comes next.”

The Californian stranger spoke to me for a while, but for some reason, I have never ed a word he said. It was like his words floated from his mouth straight into my brain and burrowed themselves deep into my thoughts. I know now that he was re-hypnotizing me, commanding me, programming me with all of his lusts and desires. I was completely unprepared to withstand any of his demands.

By the time our “conversation” was finished, I was brainwashed. Mr. Leigh wanted to take me and a few other hypnotized girls straight to Mobile, then onto a train our West, and then onto a ship across the Pacific. In the Orient, we would be sold as wives or mistresses to wealthy foreign gentlemen, powerful men who lusted after submissive American beauties. Mr. Leigh would whisk us away, never to see Greenacre again.

“You’re in the Paradise Cult now, Hannah,” Mr. Leigh told me, grinning wickedly. As he talked, he absently fondled my breasts over my blouse. “Oh, the New York City papers think the cult is some sinister religious organization, but we’re a white slavery ring, pure and simple. Voluptuous Southern girls, you fetch the highest price.”

That’s what he did. Posing as a Californian businessman, Mr. Leigh traveled the United States, hypnotizing and abducting innocent girls, then smuggling them across the globe to be sold for fabulous prices. It was a perfect, if perfectly evil, ruse.

I’m ashamed to say that at the time, I thought all of this was just grand. I no longer could think for myself. My mind was clouded with thoughts of submission and obedience and I simply couldn’t my own family, my friends, my life here in Greenacre. Under Mr. Leigh’s sway, I was ready to happily throw it all away.

“I need more girls, though,” Mr. Leigh mused. “Tell me all about your friends, Hannah.”

I spoke freely, describing Madison and Chloe. Under my master’s prodding, I then described the Titsee Contest, including how I had foolishly tried to score off of him.

The Californian smiled. “Superb,” he commented. “Here’s what you’re going to do…”

An hour later, I flounced through the door of Mr. McCullough’s Geometry class, where his lecture grinding along as its usual glacial pace. I had taken Geometry last year, but I knew Madison was in his class this year.

“Yes?” Mr. McCullough asked me, in annoyance. The entire class stared at me, no doubt wondering why I wasn’t in a classroom myself.

I gestured for Mr. McCullough to speak with me privately in the corridor. The frumpy Mathematics teacher complied, although not without a frown.

“I’m in the middle of a lesson,” he growled. “What’s this about?”

“Principal Simmons wants Madison to come with me to the office right away,” I lied. “Here.”

I shoved what appeared to be a signed hall into Mr. McCullough’s hands. As he peered to scrutinize it, I leaned forward, running two fingers over the tops of my breasts.

“Principal Simmons gave it to me himself,” I promised.

Mr. McCullough gazed into my cleavage, distracted. “Uh…” he muttered. “Yes, of course. Very well.”

Ten points!

Within a minute, I was escorting Madison through the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Mads asked me, excited at this unexpected jailbreak.

I dramatically rolled my eyes. “Well,” I said, “I have had quite a day, let me tell you.”

“Did you score off the Californian?” queried Mads.

“No,” I fibbed, then sighed. “He was impervious to my charms, alas. However, after I failed to get him, Principal Simmons showed up, and I scored off him pretty easily.”

“Principal Simmons?” Madison said approvingly. “Well done! Ten points.”

“I’m up fifty, actually,” I said crisply. “Ten for him, ten more for Vice Principal Carter who came with him, and then twenty for convincing both of them that I needed to pull you from Geometry to work on a class project.”

All of this was a bald-faced lie, of course. I was carefully maneuvering poor, unsuspecting Madison into the trap awaiting her.

“So if I’m tallying correctly,” I concluded, “Chloe has eighty-four, you have seventy-nine, and I’m now at one hundred ten. How sweet it is…!”

“I’m in third?” Madison exclaimed, aghast.

I smiled tightly. She was jealous? Perfect.

While Madison was processing her ill Titsee fortunes, I continued the deception. “Anyway,” I said, “I left my bag in 224. Let me grab it; then we’ll see if I can score off the librarians. I’m feeling lucky today.”

Classroom 224 was empty, except for Mr. Leigh, who was seated at the teacher’s desk, pretending to be working on some papers. He didn’t glance up as Madison and I entered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mister,” I play-acted. “My friend and I are just here to get my bag.”

“Sure,” Mr. Leigh replied absently. His eyes remained down.

I made a show of retrieving my backpack from the rear of the classroom. “You ready to go?” I asked Madison.

But my friend was studying Mr. Leigh, chewing on her lip.

“Just a sec,” she muttered to me.

In a flash, I knew what she was thinking. She’d gone for the bait.

Madison approached the teacher’s desk, already adjusting her boobs in preparation for the score. “Mister?” she asked sweetly.

Mr. Leigh looked up.

“I just wanted to thank you for your stories about Africa,” smiled Madison, tipping her bodice forward, just a little.

Poor Madison. She was stepping into a blissful world of servitude and slavery, completely oblivious to her plight. I smiled to myself, pleased that my master’s plan was working so well.

Mr. Leigh rose, turning to face my friend. “Look at me, Madison,” he said coolly.

“You know my name?” she said, taken aback.

My master gestured to me, and I moved to lock the classroom door.

“Look into my eyes, Madison,” commanded Mr. Leigh. He reached forward, wrapping his hands around her shoulders.

Madison never had a chance. Caught in my master’s dominant gaze, her mind wilted as she fell under his mesmeric power. I watched with deep satisfaction as she succumbed without as much as a whimper of resistance. Mr. Leigh hypnotized her in the same way he ensnared me, using his hands to relax her body and his voice to lull her mind into a submissive sleep.

It was incredible to watch, actually. Madison simply stood there as this strange man ran his hands all over her body, touching her everywhere, releasing her muscles from her control, and placing her into a powerful sleep. I didn’t most of my own hypnosis session, so it was amazing to behold in the third person was Madison went under his power. Mr. Leigh would say things like, “…and when you next awaken, your mind will be enslaved to my will…” and I knew Madison completely believed everything he said.

“And now,” Mr. Leigh said to the sleeping Madison, “when I count from one to five, you will open your eyes, awakening completely. Instantly, your mind will be filled with thoughts of lust, sheer animal lust. Your only desire will be to tear off your clothes and hump my body as much and as hard as you can. You want to please your master more than anything. Do you understand?”

“…yes…” Madison breathed, still asleep.

Mr. Leigh smiled tightly, then counted: “One, two, three, four… five!”

Madison’s eyes opened and she straightened her back. She was facing away from me and I couldn’t see her face, but from her body language, I knew Mr. Leigh’s commands had breached the core of her mind. She would obey him without even realizing that she was programmed.

I watched as Madison leaned forward, kissing Mr. Leigh and already unbuttoning her blouse. I smiled to myself. Now both she and I were in the Paradise Cult, and soon we would be traveling west. Together.