The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

You open your eyes. Bright lights stab your vision! You instinctively squint. Your thoughts are hazy. Is that… applause you’re hearing?

What the hell?

“And that’s our show, ladies and gentlemen!” a guy’s voice cries out, amplified by a microphone. “Let’s have a big round of applause for our stars, eh?”

The clapping gets louder.

Now that your eyes are adjusting, you crack open your eyelids and look around carefully. You’re… on a stage! Really, you’re sitting in a common metal folding chair, upon a big auditorium stage, with about a thousand of your fellow college students laughing and applauding for you! You blink stupidly. The faces in this crowd are beaming; they’re wildly entertained.

With some amazement, you realize: There’s a dude sitting in another folding chair to your right. And an athletic chick with dark hair, occupying a chair to your left. In fact, there’s twenty people in chairs, all sitting in a row, all looking about as dumbfounded as you feel. What’s going on?

A little self-conscious, you pull your oversized sweatshirt closer about yourself. As a young woman, it makes you nervous when so many people are gaping at you. That leering pervert in the auditorium’s front row is looking at you with obvious lust; you don’t like that.

“I’m Chris Wrens, ladies and gentlemen!” the guy with the microphone yells in triumph. The applause swells. “Look me up on TikTok and YouTube! Book me for your grad parties! Peace and love, gooood night!”

Now you see this Chris Wrens. He’s short, very skinny, maybe ten years older than you? Hard to say. He’s wearing all-black; black button-down collared shirt, black slacks, black leather shoes, a shiny black tie. Pretty good-looking, although not really your type. Great posture. Boring haircut. Expressive hands. Confident smirk.

Chris turns to grin at you and the other people in the folding chairs. He gestures once towards the audience, communicating that everybody can go back to their seats.

Oh, that’s right! Right. You remember now: You and your girlfriends came to Mershon Auditorium tonight to see a show. You should be sitting in that audience, right now.

Uh, so why are you on stage…? You have no clue.

As you puzzle this mystery, the other people up on stage all rise to their feet. You find yourself automatically copying them. You have no conscious memory of deciding to get out of your chair; your body simply acted on its own. Now you and the other stage people are shuffling towards the stage stairs. You meekly follow along.

One thing you do notice: You feel kind of amazing! Your body is sooooooooo relaxed, like you’ve spent the whole day in a warm mud bath. Your muscles are loose and tingly and feel recharged. Mmmm… You’re also quite light-headed. Its hard to concentrate.

As you reach the auditorium floor, the whole crowd of college students clap for you, like you’ve won the Academy Award or something. You stare at them.

Your girlfriends—Kari, Olivia, and Taylor—spring out from the crowd, grabbing you.

“Omigod! You were hilarious!” Kari laughs at you.

“So hilarious!” seconds Olivia, nodding and grinning madly.

“So: What can you remember?” Taylor immediately asks you.

You gape at your friends. For some reason, your brain is not working.

“…………huh?” is all you can say.

It’s a half-hour later. Kari, Olivia, and Taylor have whisked you away to a small table at Bruster’s, the lame bar at the back of the student union. You feel strangely drugged, so your girls have plopped you into a seat and ordered you a beer. Now the three of them lean forward, eagerly pumping you for information.

The clock on the wall says its… Eleven PM? How can that be? The evening just started.

“Okay, seriously,” Kari presses you. “You don’t remember anything? Nothing at all?”

“Uh… no,” you confess.

“Omigod,” giggles Olivia.

“What?” you say, absently scratching the end of your nose. “We were going to go to the hypnotism show. We’re still doing that, right?”

“She legit doesn’t remember,” Taylor exclaims to Kari and Olivia.

To your annoyance, Taylor then snaps her fingers right before your face. “Yo! Snap out of it!”

“Hey!” you scowl.

Your friends exchange excited laughs.

You eye them with distaste. Kari you met in your freshman year, and Olivia and Taylor you picked up the following term. This is now your senior year. At the moment, you’re so annoyed with your girlfriends, you’re kinda pleased with the thought of being rid of them.

“Okay, for real,” you say to your friends. “What the hell happened?”

Olivia grins wickedly. “Who’s gonna tell her?” she asks Kari and Taylor.

Kari takes control. “You got hypnotized,” she explains, talking down to you a little. “We all went to the show together, like we planned. And when the hypno-guy came out on stage and asked for volunteers, you didn’t budge. You said you would be scared to get hypnotized.”

“Yeah,” you agree.

“So a buncha people went up as volunteers,” relates Kari. “And the hypno-guy started speaking, using this deep, creepy voice, you know? And he goes on and on and on and the people on stage all fall asleep. I guess they were under.”

“Ooooooookay,” you respond. Actually, you can’t remember this part of the story.

“And then,” Kari continues, her eyes shining, “the hypno-guy…”

“Chris Wrens,” interrupts Olivia.

“Yeah, him,” Kari frowns. “He turns to the audience and says something like, “if anyone in the audience is feeling really relaxed, you will come up on stage when I snap my fingers.’ And then he snapped his fingers.”

Unable to contain her excitement, Taylor hijacks the story. “And then, you immediately got out of your seat!” she tells you.

You blink in disbelief. “What? No.”

“Yes!” your girlfriends cry in perfect unison.

“You went right up on that stage!” Kari tells you. “It was like you were sleepwalking, or something.”

Your jaw drops open. You still can’t remember a shred of this story.

“I so couldn’t believe it,” chortles Olivia. “You were so owned. That hypno-guy had you completely under his spell.”

“No!” you bluster, sticking to firm denial. “No, there’s no way, no way!” You gulp. “I’ve always been terrified of getting hypnotized. How could that possibly happen to me?”

“She still doesn’t remember,” marvels Olivia. “That’s amazing.”

You rack your brains as hard as you can. You remember absolutely nothing of what your friends have described.

They’ve gotta be fucking with you, right? Right???

“Uh-uh, you guys,” you frown, crossing your arms. “No way.”

“Show her,” Taylor says to Olivia.

“…yeah…” Olivia replies, already swiping away on her iPhone.

Butterflies in your stomach, you wait with dread. No, no, no, don’t let this be true, you think over and over. Don’t let this be true, don’t let this be true…

“Ah ha!” Olivia shoves her phone into your field of vision.

You stare at the video now playing on the little screen. You see the auditorium stage, with the hypno guy… what was his name? …gesturing to someone nearby. You blink.

Then, in the video, you see yourself, stepping up to the hypnotist. Its undoubtably you! In the video, you’re wearing the exact clothes you have on right now: your OHIO STATE sweatshirt, old jeans, your long brown hair pulled back with a red scrunchy. Amazingly, your expression in the video is completely blank. Your eyes are glazed over. You stand before the hypnotist, looking incredibly spacey.

In the video, Hypnoguy puts a hand on your shoulder. “Well hello, there!” he says brightly. “Tell me, ma’am, do you think that you’re under hypnosis right now?”

In a dull, thick voice, the Video You responds, “…no.”

“Okay, sure, sure,” grins Hypno Guy. He snaps two fingers. “Sleep.”

Instantly, the you in the video closes her eyes. She remains on her feet, but her head drops forward onto her chest.

“To the young lady I am addressing now,” Hypno Guy announces, laying a hand on your slumped shoulder, “anytime you hear the expression ‘Wowee Zowie,’ you will immediately and automatically cry out, ‘I’m so hypnotized!’ without any conscious thought or effort. Nod once if you understand?”

In the video, you see your head bob up and down exactly once.

As you watch, you have this superweird feeling. You stare at Olivia’s phone, and its like you’re watching a video of someone else, a someone who looks like you, sounds like you, and happens to be wearing your clothes. BUT NONE OF THIS IS IN YOUR MEMORY. You think back with all your might, and absolutely nothing in the video seems familiar at all.

“There we go,” Video Hypno Guy laughs. “And now, ma’am, you will awaken on the count of three, remembering nothing. One, two, three!” He snaps again.

The Video You raises her head, blinking absently.

“Hello there, ma’am, why don’t you take a seat?” The hypnotist points to an empty folding chair on the stage.

“Sure,” Video You says amiably. You watch yourself plop into the chair as if all of this is totally normal, totally par-the-course for you.

Hypno Guy adopts a naughty expression. “Wowee Zowie,” he murmurs straight into his body mic.

Without a pause, the You in the Video suddenly yells out with passion, “I’M SO HYPNOTIZED!” You hear the audience guffaw with wild laughter.

In disbelief, you shake your head. “That… can’t be me,” you firmly tell your friends.

“Oh, it was you, alright,” chuckles Kari.

Taylor nudges Olivia. “Show her the shoe phone.”

“Show me the what?” you demand.

Olivia is already skimming her videos. “Here…”

The iPhone is thrust before you once again. Now, in the video, you see yourself, plus other sleepy-looking college students, sitting in those folding chairs. Some students are acting weird; one girl seems to be playing an invisible harp, and the dude sitting next to you is making disgusting kissy faces at the audience. You hear the spectators murmur and laugh quietly.

Hypno Guy enters the video frame. He eyes you with a wicked grin. Then, into his body mic, he simply says, “Ring ring…!”

Immediately, the you in the video sits bolt upright. Then, to your amazement, you watch yourself snatch your cloth shoe off your own foot. You press the shoe to the side of your head, listening intently. “Hello?” Video You says… and then you begin to giggle and blush uncontrollably.

“You think that your shoe is a telephone,” Kari explains, quite unnecessarily.

Oh shit. You stare at the phone in complete disbelief. You can remember absolutely none of this.

“Really?” the Video You squeals, talking into her shoe. “Really??? Oh, no way!” More childish giggling.

“What’s going on?” Hypno Man innocently asks you.

You excitedly tell him: “My shoe is a phone!”

“Uh-huh. Interesting. Who are you talking to?”

“Timothee Chalamet!” you squeal aloud, unable to hold back your excitement. “He wants to go out with me! With meeeeee!”

This provokes hearty laughter from the auditorium audience, and from the real-life Kari, Olivia, and Taylor as well.

The Video You turns back to her conversation with Timothee Chalamet, blushing an even deeper red. “Oh, of course I’ll go out with you!” you wildly promise. “And I’ll marry you and I’ll have your babies! I love you, Timotheeeeeee!”

“Oh shit!” snorts Kari, still laughing hard. “That was the best.”

“No, no, the dance-off was the best,” Olivia argues. “Lemma find the dance-off…”

“…dance-off?” you repeat weakly.

A new video: Now, Hypno Guy is standing at the lip of the stage, yelling like he’s the emcee of a big show. “Laaaaaadies and Gennnnntlemen!” he bellows, “the 2025 Ohio State Dance-Off begins!!!” He touches a button on a little remote control.

The auditorium loudspeakers begin to blast “I Touch Myself” by Divinyls. The phone camera tilts a little, and now you see all the hypnotized volunteers madly rush towards the edge of the stage. For an instant—just the briefest moment in time—you spot yourself in the crowd of stage people. You have a look of burning determination on your face.

And then, as Divinyls’s filthy lyrics pour from the speakers, you and all the other hypnotized people strike a pose and dance your asses off. Olivia is filming, and of course, she keeps you in the center of the video the whole time. You stare in dismay and horror.

Video You is really getting into her dance. I mean, she’s REALLY getting into it! You watch as the you-on-screen hikes her sweatshirt up over her hips, showing off all of your tight jeans. You bend deeply at the knees, stick out your butt, space your feet far apart, and then swing those hips. Your eyelids fall half-clothed, your red lips part, and look of arousal settled over your blushing face. You dance like you’re trying to seduce everyone in the audience.

“Oh no!!!” you squeal aloud.

In the video, you dance on, doing a lousy job of keeping the beat. But what you lack in rhythm, you make up for in sex appeal. Even now, your hands are swarming over your own breasts, then down your tummy, then in and out of your crotch, before sliding around to spank yourself with naughty glee.

This is so embarrassing!

You cringe, yet you can’t look away. You are not an athletic girl by any stretch of the imagination. You don’t have the lean dancer’s body or the natural grace required for some of these racier dance steps. But you’ve inherited your big chest and curvy hips from your mom, and your waist is mercifully small. So your naturally voluptuous figure is up there on the Mershon Auditorium stage, dancing away for all of Ohio State to admire.

Oh, man! Why do you keep fondling your own boobs like that???

“You remember this?” Kari asks you insistently.

You shake your head in numbed disbelief. “No.”

And its true. Your mind is still a complete blank from the time you entered the auditorium. You have absolutely nothing in your memory banks from that point on out.

“Omigod,” Taylor laughs softly. “Girl, you so got owned.”

“…what else did I do in the show?” you mumble, half-afraid of the answer.

In quick succession, Olivia takes you on a tour of your Most Embarrassing Moments While Hypnotized. On Olivia’s phone, you watch yourself become (A) an astronaut walking in the moon, (B) a mermaid, happy to be interviewed about her life under the sea, (C) a hard-boiled private eye, angrily grilling members of the audience about where they were on the night of January 15th, (D) an opera soprano, (E) the captain of a World War II submarine, and (F) a scary dinosaur. While you thought you were a T-Rex, you stomped about the stage, snapping your jaws and roaring at the people in the auditorium’s front row.

You remember doing

Absolutely.

None.

Of.

These.

Things.

When Olivia has run out of video footage, your three friends look at you expectantly, wide smiles on their faces.

“Seriously? You still have amnesia?” exclaims Olivia.

You’re speechless.

Even after you’ve been confronted with video evidence of your hypnotic susceptibility, you still have yet to remember a shred of what transpired this evening. I mean… if you really were deeply hypnotized, those memories would come back to you, wouldn’t they? Yeah. The fact that you not one memory has surfaced has to mean that this whole goddamn thing is a hoax, right? Right???

Right.

“That just can’t be me,” you assert boldly. “It just can’t.” You give Olivia a look. “C’mon, Ollie. You did some kind of AI deepfake, right?”

Kari makes a coughing noise that sounds like, “Wowee Zowie!”

Suddenly, all thoughts vanish from your mind. You find yourself shouting, “I’M SO HYPNOTIZED!!!”

Everyone in Bruster’s turns to stare at you. Kari, Olivia, and Taylor dissolve into gales of laughter.

“Oh shit…!” sighs Talyor happily. “Shit, that’s priceless…!”

“Girl,” Olivia tells you knowingly, “you were hypnotized. You were soooo hypnotized.”

You clamp your mouth shut, not knowing what to think.