The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The day of the midterm arrived; Hetty wasn’t entirely sure why, but she woke up that morning feeling particularly guilty for all the times she had kissed Russel, so far. She was also feeling a little guilty for the two times, to date, that she had given him extra help none of the other students could have expected from her.

Since she was feeling this guilt, and since she had to ister the mid-term exam that morning, she decided to dress more modestly again; she’d been opening up to that more casual style of dress that Russel seemed to like her in, but with how she was feeling on this particular morning, it just wasn’t something she could do today. She put herself in a pair of gray dress-pants, and a tangerine blouse that was fairly loose.

The only thing bold in it was the color choice— and she’d had the same blouse for a while, but she’d rarely worn it. Would she have put it on before this? She’d tried going back to modesty but it was a changed place, now— what she returned to wasn’t quite what she’d left, but she could accept that. Something about dressing in today’s outfit made her feel like she was “behaving.”

She was quick to get out the door, and fairly quick in getting to campus. She was, however, not quite the first person into the classroom.

Russel was already there.

She was, by now, begrudgingly used to the fact that he’d gotten pretty comfortable hanging back after class. This was the first time that he’d shown up before-hand.

“Russel,” Hetty acknowledged, a bit tersely.

“Professor,” Russel said— just to rankle her, Hetty was sure. It did get under her skin.

“I studied the third and chapter seventh. I feel much more prepared for today’s exam. But I’m still a little nervous. Do you think you could give me a kiss for good luck?”

The question alone made Hetty’s entire body break out into a flush.

She’d dressed herself up like she was someone respectable, like she was someone who was going to behave as she should but if she went ahead and let herself kiss Russel again…

She was wavering where she stood, ing telling him the title of the monograph, ing telling him the material that the mid-term would cover… how it had been so easy.

“Just one,” she said, and that felt easy too, filled her with a light sort of feeling that she found very enjoyable.

The two of them crossed the distance that was between them, and they quickly kissed. It must only have lasted for a few seconds, but the entire time, Hetty was aware of the fact that they were in the classroom— that the door was unlocked— any one of the other students might decide they wanted to show up early, and then she and Russel would be caught.

But his lips really did feel incredible against hers. She couldn’t bring herself to care too much.

No other students walked in, however, and after just a few seconds, the kiss had ended. Russel gave a little nod of approval to her, which made her heart skip, and then headed to the back of the classroom, to take a seat there.

Presently, the other students began to arrive, trickling in one after the other, first in smaller groups of ones and twos, then in larger groups all at once— eventually, the classroom was full, and not only of nervous students, but of nervous chatter as well, as those same students compared study strategies, studied information, hopes and fears.

At the exact moment which marked the beginning of the period, Hetty called out to get all of their attention, and announced that the exam was starting. Immediately, everyone fell silent, and Hetty walked herself through the rows, ing stacks of exams to the student on each end, so that each student could take an exam and the rest of the stack on down the row.

When Hetty reached the row that Russel was sitting at the other end of, she was careful not to look at him.

She walked back to the front of the classroom, and waited for all the exam ing to stop. She still felt a little fluttery inside from giving Russel his good-luck kiss, but she was focused on doing her job.

When there was no more rustle of exam-ing, she reminded them all that their time had started, and was pleased as she heard the sound of many writing utensils at once beginning to scribble.

She sat down behind her desk— now she had to let her eyes travel over her group of students in case anyone had a question she needed to get up and answer.

When her eyes happened to— coincidentally, she thought— over Russel, he always looked deep in thought, like he was really concentrating.

Some of the other students looked more concerned. Clearly, not everyone had thought to give chapters three and seven more than a quick ing review.

Hetty flicked her eyes to the next row over in order to avoid considering that thought.

Though she kept herself looking, no one raised their hands— and while there were a fair number of students looking concerned, quite a few looked as determined as Russel, and a few looked almost happy.

Noticing that made her feel she could keep looking where she’d been looking, without needing to turn her eyes to new stimulus.

The exam ed without much of an incident— there wasn’t even as much of a disruption as the single raising of a hand— and when the class-period was over, Hetty stood and told them all so.

Then, again, the sound of paper rustling could be heard as students flipped their exams along their stapled-hinges back into a closed state; and then all the students were ing her desk, each one handing their exam, before filing out of the room and leaving her there. Without Russel, for once. Maybe he could only tolerate one-on-one interactions with her in her class-room at a rate of one per day; and having seen her, alone, before the mid-term, he had already reached his quota.

“I’m not disappointed,” Hetty told herself, as she gathered up her things. “It’s an annoyance, always having to see him. It just saves me the trouble of his demanding my attention.”

She got on to her next class— gave a mid-term there too. The next day, her other two classes both had their mid- as well— and then she was grateful, after having given four mid- in one week. Grateful because there was a scheduled week off for the entire campus, and she really did need that time to grade all the exams that had been turned in.

That week truly was a blur of work, with great quantities to get through, and great exhaustion at the end of it, but by the time classes had resumed the week after, all her exams were marked.

However, she was coming back to classes on a day where she wasn’t expecting to see Russel— because this was a day where she wasn’t teaching her historiography course.

She was carrying her exams in one arm, and moving through the groups of people as they went down the halls of the building.

And there was Russel, unexpectedly, but as soon as he saw her, her presence ed with him, and instead of simply ing her and making no outward acknowledgement, he seemed to alter his trajectory so he could come right toward her.

“Let’s talk for a minute,” was all he said to her— then he was walking briskly ahead of her— and she thought— of giving the monograph title, the exam hint— the good-luck kiss— she only paused for a moment, and then, even carrying such a heavy pile of exams in her arms, she hurried her steps to follow him, as he pushed open a set of swing-doors that led down an emptier hallway.

Hetty followed after him, and kept following, even as he pulled on of the hallway doors open, and looked inside.

He stepped in through that door he’d opened, which she had not been able to see behind from the other side of it, and she moved quickly to follow after him.

It was another empty classroom, no longer darkened because Russel had turned on the light.

By this point Hetty’s arms were a bit sore, because she’d expected herself to have made it to her office by now— she’d been counting on setting down the stack of exams— and she still wasn’t there, she was here instead— but at least there was a desk in here.

This classroom was also different than the others she taught out of— instead of having many individual chairs with lift-up desk-slabs, this room was basically just rows of swivel chairs bolted to a shared, common built-in table; one long table for each row— so no shortage of places to set her exams down.

She picked the first tabled-row, just to get the weight out of her arms, and exhaled her relief briefly.

But Russel was still there, and he was the one who had called her in here— for some reason she still didn’t know.

He hadn’t put a hand on her to guide her in the hall, or anything— and he had led her into an empty classroom and not an empty closet, so he was, apparently, being careful about who might see them and what they might think— he was preserving plausible deniability.

But he’d still called her in here, apparently unable to wait even one day. If he’d reached tomorrow, then he could have carried on with his habit of isolating her in the classroom after class, but apparently, this was something that just couldn’t wait.

When she looked back to him, he seemed to be looking her over, and considering what he was seeing.

“You made a bold color choice,” he said. “But it looks like you’ve taken a step backward, otherwise. Does that really make you happy? Aren’t you more comfortable when you dress casually? I thought we’d gone over this.”

Hetty crossed her arms defensively over her chest. “But that’s not who I am. I like to be casual in my affect, but I’m modest, I dress modest, I’ve always done that.”

Russel looked thoughtful. He’s brought his hand up to rest against his face, closed-fist. “But does doing what you’ve always done really make you happy? Aren’t you happier doing new things? Don’t the old things start to feel boring? Don’t they start to wear you out?”

Hetty felt her face furrow. She held the crossing of her arms more tightly in place. “They’ve been the way they always are because it’s fine— it’s fine, I don’t mind it…”

“It’s new to kiss me, before or after class, isn’t? And doesn’t that feel good? New, and good?”

Her lips tingled just from the memory alone.

“It feels good,” she itted, reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean I should be doing it. I should go back to things I know— dressing modestly— not kissing anymore.”

Russel dropped his fist from his face, and gave her a supremely patient look. “But will things feel exciting and sparking then? Better to keep those feeling— dress in ways that compliment you more— do other new things.”

Her arms were still crossed but she surged forward into a lean that her feet were arching her up into.

“Do you know what you could do, instead of pedaling back? You could give us both little treats throughout the day— if we ed in the halls, like we did just now— you could lift your shirt a bit— or shift the neck aside. Let me see your breasts— or you could lift your skirt a bit, let me see your panties.”

Hetty inhaled sharply; came out of her lean, to lean back instead of forward, lean further away from him.

“Just think how much fun that would be. It would fill you up with those exciting sparks— and you’d get the pleasure of knowing how much I was enjoying it too.”

Her lips felt like they were burning; other parts of her body, too.

“And no need to stop there. There’ll be other assignments and quizzes in the second half of the semester. You can give me flashes of carnal enjoyment— but you can give me flashes of insight too. Pull me aside, and tell me one quiz answer— or pull me aside, and tell me the answer to one question on an assignment. When we in the hall, neither of us will know what’s going to happen— only that something will, and it will be completely up to you which thing happens. You’ll me, and you’ll give me a flash. Or you’ll me, pull me aside, and then I’ll know an answer— either option will be equally pleasurable for each one of us.”

She felt giddy, suddenly, at the prospect.

“It was nice to see you, today, when we were both in the hall. I just… only got to enjoy it for a few seconds before I had to remind myself that I was supposed to behave better from now on.”

“And that’s boring, if not completely irritating,” Russel dismissed, easily. “You can enjoy yourself in just the same way— seeing me can be as special as it ought to be— it can be even more special than that— because you’ll get to do more than just see me. You can show me— you can take me aside, and talk to me. It will feel so good, won’t you just it that? Agree that that’s what you want to do from now on?”

Like the true academic she was, Hetty paused for a moment, and truly considered her situation. Then she gave a solemn nod of her head.

“Yes, I would enjoy that more. I’ll do that from now on.”

Russel smiled a dazzling smile. He took a step closer, and for the first time since they’d come in here, he touched her— he put a comforting hand on her arm— which was still held in an arm-cross about her chest.

“I’m so happy for you— I think this is the right choice, and I think it will feel better for you than what you were doing before. And we won’t have any more of this foolishness where you dress the way you always have, now will we?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll give you a kiss to seal the promise,” Hetty said, and unfolded her arms. She was glad, then, that he had come closer, glad that he had gotten close enough that it only took a slight step forward to make his lips with hers.

He was the one who retreated from the kiss first. “I’ll be seeing you in the hallways,” he smiled again, his affect so golden it in itself was nearly a burning thing to regard it with her eyes, like gold in a fallen sun’s ray.

Then he turned, and left.

She exhaled. “Well,” she said. “That leaves me a little bereft, without him here.”

But now her day felt more normal again. She gathered the stack of exams she had set down nearby, and though her arms cried out at her for taking up the strain again, it felt good to be getting on with the expected progression of her day. Carrying the exams now, she made it out of the room, even managing to shut the light off— then she made it down the hall, through the double swing-doors again, and on the way to her office.

It took her another five minutes to get there, and when she did, she gladly set her stack of exams down on her desk, and then started to sort through them, so she could get all the exams belonging to students in her first class of the day into one pile. She wanted to start their first class of the second half of the semester by redistributing their exams and going through the exam answers with them, so they could see where they’d gone wrong, if they had. She had been pleased to find there were a lot of good grades in that batch.

Then she would do the same thing with her second and final class of the day— then with her two classes tomorrow, including historiography, which was one of the two.

She not only managed to compile all of the exams from her first class into a stack, but also managed to compile all the exams from the second class. She finished up just in time to get to the class she’d been preparing for, and the rest of her day unfolded as imagined— distributing exams to both classes, going through all answers, and doing a quick recap of the course outline, through the end of the course. It seemed a long time before the end of the semester. She could see it ahead in the distance, and the sequence of all events that needed to take place first, but it was so impossibly far away, she wasn’t sure she’d ever make it there.

And she thought this was a feeling that would have been much more typical in a student— one of her students, even. And she hadn’t been a student in a long time. But it was how she felt— the distant end of the semester far off, and all the things that must happen first.

At the end of the day, she went home and had a quiet evening to herself. She slept well that night, deeply, and through every nighttime hour. She woke up the next morning, and thought of her historiography class.

“I’ll be seeing Russel,” she told her empty bedroom.

She pushed her covers aside, and stood up, her nightgown falling to hang from her body now that she stood.

“I won’t hide in my old clothes anymore. I would be happier dressing casually. And if— I want to take little treats for myself— give them to Russel too— the old clothes just won’t work—”

She trailed off. Unlikely that she’d run into Russel unexpectedly in some hallway today, when they had a class scheduled together— her as the professor and him as the student, but still, the same block of time they would both be present for. Still, even if she couldn’t flash, it would still be a treat to dress herself up so he could ire her.

She stepped into her closet. Something more show-y today, but still within university dress-code.

She chose a shirt that was a kind of synthesis between orange and cream; it did not have sleeves— but she’d put a shawl on while she was in the hall, and then once she was in the classroom, leave it bundled on her desk-chair.

A skirt instead of pants, this time. She chose one that was a deep chocolate-colored brown. The shawl to hang about her arms and hide their bareness was a lighter yellow color; and she approved of the ensemble.

“Too bad I won’t be running into him outside of class today though,” she grumbled. “This would have been an easy top to expose a breast in.”

Nothing could be done about that. She gathered her materials, and went out to her car, locking the door to her house behind her, before getting in and driving off to campus.

As always, her historiography class was first, so she just went directly there. Russel had not arrived first this time, so she undraped her shawl and put it on her desk-chair, and started setting up her materials, and getting herself ready for the class-session that day.

As it turned out, Russel wasn’t even among the first few students who filed in. He came in with the last of the stragglers.

She fought herself to keep from shimmying in his gaze when he did come into the room. It wouldn’t be a very professional thing to do; Russel had been right, all the times he’d been careful to hide what they were doing when they were out in the common areas of the university; if anyone saw them behaving strangely together, impropriety would be assumed; and that was if they weren’t seeing doing something improper in the first place.

Shimmying in a little dance the second his eyes fell on her— that would be improper, and it would be an improper act taken in front of dozens of other witnesses. She pretended that Russel coming in had meant nothing.

Class started. She redistributed the marked exams, since she’d had them piled up and ready for this class in her office this morning. She’d just had to grab them and take them along with her.

Once each exam was returned to the student that had written it, she very thoroughly went over all exam questions and exam material. After that, there was just enough time left in the course-period to review what the second half of the semester would entail, and then there was a brief moment left to remind them of all the reading they had to do in time for next week— and just as the moment of dismissal claim, she tacked on a mention of what they would be doing in their second class of the week, in two-days time.

Then they all got up to leave— and to her shock it looked like Russel was clearing out with them.

Oh, that would never do.

She cleared her throat, and was relieved when he looked in her direction. No other student had looked when he did, so she felt bold enough to gesture for him to come over. Not as much fun as showing him a flash of skin— but it still felt like a flash of excitement in its own way.

“Yes, professor?” Russel asked when the two of them were again alone in the room together.

“It’s not likely I’ll run into you in the halls today. But I don’t think that means we should both have to go without a treat just because of that. Come over here.”

He obliged her.

She put an arm around his shoulders, angled her lips towards his ear. “I’m giving a surprise quiz next week. To make sure everyone’s been keeping up with their reading.”

He drew an intake of breath— preparing to thank her, maybe. Did he really think that was all she was going to give him? It wasn’t electric yet.

“This is the complete answer to question two.”

She recited it for him in full.

Then she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He turned to look at her in amazement. The wonder in his eyes was maybe one of the best things she’d ever seen.

“I feel like you’re a mirror in front of me right now,” she confessed. “You look so light up with joy and electricity— I feel exactly the same.”

He did look as happy as she’d said. He also looked a bit surprised.

“Did you think I was just kidding when I made up my mind yesterday?” She laughed it at him, a bit.

“Anyway,” she said, calming herself down again. “I’ll see you later.”

She left him in the room that time. She’d been cutting it close. She had to make it to her next and final class of the day, but she had to get by her office first, so she could grab the final stack of exams for return.

She did manage this— and her final class went as smoothly as the other three she’d so far taught that week. Easily returning quizzes, easily going through answers, easily outlining the remaining semester, and quickly getting in a word about the second class of the week, and then the readings for the week after.

She felt, all in all, that she’d done a good days work at the end of the night.

She woke up the next morning in a good mood. “There’s hope today,” she said, in a tone of wonder she thought matched the look of it she’d seen in Russel’s eyes the previous day.

No scheduled class with him today; he had his other courses— so maybe, this time, in one of the halls…

She wanted to wear something that would be easy to expose herself in. Another sleeveless top seemed like the best bet.

She’d probably put a cardigan over it, one that buttoned, and just leave the buttons unfastened— maybe she’d roll it down a bit so it exposed her shoulders but still clung to her arms. That sounded flirty to her.

She chose a midnight-blue sleeveless top this time; put it with a pale gray cardigan, which she did roll down a bit so her shoulders showed but her arms stayed covered— and a skirt— she didn’t put a bra on under her shirt, afraid of anything that might slow her down.

She made sure to arrive on campus early— she didn’t know Russel’s class-schedule, and thank god for that. This infatuation has already gone far enough— if I did know when all his classes were it would be crossing the line into complete obsession!

Still she was sure to take a nice long walk around campus— out on the quad, back into the halls, up and down them, walking with purpose like she really had somewhere to be, even though her first class of the day wasn’t for another good hour.

Then she turned a corner— and he was down at the other end of the hall, walking her direction.

It was the perfect moment; the other students in the hall were walking ahead of her, going the same direction she was— they couldn’t see what was happening behind them— and Russel was the only one coming the opposite way.

And he only realized she was there a second later, after she’d already slipped one strap of her sleeveless top down off her shoulder.

He was fully watching her as she did the next thing: with one hand, she pulled half of her shirt down hard, until her right breast popped free, over the neckline— completely naked— and Russel’s eyes widened nearly enough to pop; but he was clearly drinking her in.

They were still walking in their opposite directions— they would converge and then each other. She couldn’t talk to him anywhere except her head.

I feel like you’re a mirror even more now. I see it in your face. Isn’t it thrilling? Isn’t it so tantalizing? That’s the expression you’re wearing, but I feel that inside my heart too.

She wished she could really tell him that— but this was meant to be a treat, not a feast— they couldn’t stop and interact, could neither be caught acting strangely, nor inappropriately. Her heart was racing— at any time another student might come around the next corner of the hall.

They were almost directly in front of each other, apart from the fact that they were slightly offset by treading parallel paths— Russel had kept turning his head so he could keep her in view— and as he stepped past, his hand twitched as if in raising, so he could touch her— but then it had fallen back to his side, and she had stepped past him.

She quickly got herself back into her shirt before anyone else could come down the hallway.

Probably there had been students walking behind her who would have seen Russel raise his hand— better that they be careful.

She didn’t need to keep wandering around in hopes of running into him. She went back to her office, beaming wider than she had in a very long while.

She was similarly cheerful when she did finally get around to teaching her first class. The mood lasted well into her second, and then it came all the way home with her. “A treat” had been exactly the right thing to call it. It had perked her up so much, and she stayed in that good mood until the next day.

When Russel came into class, she made sure no one was looking directly at him, and then she shot him a little wink. To her, it felt like they were having the same kind of private secret moment they’d now shared three times: when she had beckoned him over to give him an answer for the quiz; when she had actually given him that answer, and then a peck on the cheek— and that wonderful moment in the hall yesterday.

They were enjoying a moment of intimacy and closeness, here in front of everyone else— but no one else had seen— no one else knew, no one else had noticed.

It made her feel giddy again— but then Russel was stepping out of her line of sight— because these could be treats but they couldn’t be feasts— they could be brief but could not linger in these moments— just a taste of sweetness, or salt, and then gone— just like any other treat.

Just getting away with winking at Russel though, that had her happy and flushed through the rest of that class. She liked to think Russel could see that flush of happiness about her— every time he looked— liked to think of him knowing that it was just because of him— that it was for him.

When she caught herself thinking that way, she shook her head. Maybe she really had crossed the line into obsession. The crush she had on him was ludicrous at this point— and all these treats indulged in, without a single thought spared for her boyfriend— and yet she knew she wasn’t going to stop. Treating herself was too delicious, and Russel was too beautiful and too alluring— and too many other things to properly list.

And she, herself, was too happy.