The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hetty was really starting to enjoy the treats she was sharing with Russel; the second week after the midterm and then the third week after that were full of them.

She thought they were a little bad for her, in the way that all treats could be, but at the same time, they did have benefits. They had her walking all over campus, on days that she didn’t have Russel in her classes. Invariably, she ran into him, and found away to give a taste of the sight of her— always in such a way that nobody but Russel got that, or even noticed that anything was happening between them. It helped that the moments in which they mutually indulged in these treats were so brief— a glimpse, a quick show, and then they were over, and the two of them were off in their separate directions.

Hetty really liked it best of all when she ran into Russel twice in one walk. If she kept walking for long enough, it eventually happened, though it wasn’t a reliable occurrence, something she could guarantee would happen every day she went walking; but it did happen every now and then, enough for her to hope for it each time she went on one of these walks— enough for her to console herself with, on those occasions when it did not occur. Those times, she was always able to believe it when she thought, afterwards, that it could still happen in future.

Hetty had also taken to dressing the same way every day; tight shirts that nearly rode up, small skirts— even on days where Russel was in class with her, she did this— the side-benefit of this was that he could appreciate her beauty, maybe experience his own attraction to her a little better, while she was doing this.

But that wasn’t the reason she had started. She had started because once on a class-day, she had run into Russel in the hall much, much later. His class had already been taught, and for once she hadn’t been thinking about him at all— she’d just been focused on getting something practical done after finishing teaching her second class of the day— she’d been hurrying to the nearest copy room to make some copies for that second class to use on the next day it would be taught, and then, suddenly, from, around the corner, Russel had come unexpectedly.

And she had not been wearing the right clothes. What she’d had on had been impossible to shift quickly— so Russel had just gone by, and she’d never had the chance to give him a treat, and in the process, take a treat for herself. She hadn’t even been able to pull him aside and give him the kind of treat that came in the form of a quiz answer, or an assignment answer. She’d completely missed her chance.

After that she’d sworn it would never happen again. So she dressed the same way no matter which day it was, now. This guaranteed that, even on days where she saw Russel in class, she was similarly ready to give him treats if they crossed paths on campus either before or after the class-period. And that had happened one or two times; it happened much more rarely than even running into Russel twice in one day on those days she took her long wandering walks. But she was prepared for the occurrence, now. That mattered to her.

It was the fourth week after the midterm, now. There was only about a month left in the semester, so everything was starting to feel a bit pressed for time; everyone was aware that finals were looming only a few weeks away, and most professors were asg lots of homework, packing their each course full of material— assignments, quizzes, essays. Hetty was no different; since none of her courses were full-year classes, they’d all be ending with this semester, and she wanted to make sure her students had gotten all the relevant knowledge they could, on the topics she was teaching, wanted to make sure they would take that knowledge with them.

Russel was keeping up with the pace of work she was asg— most of her other students were too— he seemed to be taking in all the knowledge that she wanted taken, as were the rest of her students. In other semesters, she would have been proud of herself as an educator, happy about her students’ learning outcomes.

This semester, she didn’t care at all. Russel was the only student she was really thinking about— he was the only student that, really, she found herself caring about. All the other students were following along, all of them were getting pulled along, because she was still using all her skill as a professor, and following plans earlier made— but it was really only Russel she was trying to help; the others got some of his help almost in the form of splashback— where there was a spray she was trying to direct at him, but it struck him and then bounced off in all directions, catching the other students too.

She felt in all her classes now, that it was Russel she was speaking to— that he was the one she was really trying to convey information to, and all the other students were only overhearing a private conversation, and pulling things from it also.

She felt this way even in the classes Russel wasn’t taking. He was just so constantly on her mind that he was almost present even when he was in fact absent.

She was thinking about him even now— the morning of her first class of that week— it was a day on which she could look forward to running into Russel in the hallway— but he wouldn’t be in attendance at either of her two courses. She didn’t mind that. It was almost better, seeing him in the hallway.

She arrived early on campus that morning— she wouldn’t have to be teaching her class for another solid fifty-three minutes, and then after that class she’d have a good few hours to wander before her second one. So she was going to go walking all across campus, and hopefully see Russel— then hopefully, between her first class and her second, she would see him again. Once, she’d even seen him a third time, after her second class. That day, she’d already seen once before her first class, and then another time, making it twice overall, between her first class and her second— and then treat of all treats, there he’d been after her third class too. She’d just come across him at random, then. Her luck had been very good that day.

But that had only happened once. She was expecting a single sighting of him today, hoping for a second after that— but was well aware she’d likely never be so lucky as to ever see him three times in one day again. That had been a special fluke, for just that day.

She’d already dropped off the things she needed for the day in her office— it was better not to be carrying anything at times like this— if Russel appeared, her hands were free to raise her skirt, or move aside her top— or free to grab hold of him and pull him aside. It would be a nightmare to find she was holding something at the very moment she needed her hands free. So she’d never made that mistake.

She’d walked all through the building her office was in— the same building she mainly taught in— at least this semester they’d scheduled three of her four classes to be close to her office— the fourth class was taught one building over, because they just hadn’t been able to find a classroom free in the necessary time-slot— one building over was the closest they’d been able to do.

Still, it showed how much they respected her as a professor— newer professors didn’t get perks like that, like having the majority of their classes scheduled right in their office-building, or at most only one building over. It showed they also respected her work as a researcher— professors who’d been teaching as long as her, but who lacked her professional acclaim, also didn’t receive those kind of perks.

She didn’t want to wander in her building long, though, not today. For some reason , today she was feeling very much that she’d like to get into some of the buildings she usually never went in— she wanted to get far away— see if she could run into Russel there. She didn’t know exactly which other courses he was taking, but he did seem to turn up all over campus, so she thought her chances of finding him farther away were at least decent.

And past times she’d been wandering where she’d had the impulse to go here or there, it had always worked out better for her to follow such impulses. More often that not, they had led her to Russel.

So she walked through her building long enough to reach the exit, and then she was out onto the quad of the campus— only walking there long enough to reach the building that was one-over the other way; not the one she taught that fourth class in, the building which was on the other side of hers.

That building luckily connected to the next building past it; there was an interior walkway which connected them, particularly useful when it got colder— so she would just keep walking through this building, through that walkway into the next one…

She kept a watchful gaze on everything around her— prepared at any moment for Russel to appear, but so far, he hadn’t materialized. That was fine. She’d just keep herself walking in this direction— surely, eventually, she would come across him. She believed that, with complete certainty. She would be lucky today.

She made it a few buildings over; moving through their series of interior walkways. She didn’t , it wasn’t top of mind for her to recall which building she was currently in— which faculty used it. She didn’t mind about that, though. The building was strange and interesting to her— there were sculptures and models of much bigger things around, here and there, and she hadn’t yet decided if they were all only decorative, or if they were, in fact, meant to be linked to whichever mysterious faculty was using this space. If they were, that link was unclear— the whole place seemed enigmatic and indecipherable— every so often there were common areas with comfortable seating; on every wall, there were doors leading into classrooms— or potentially offices, but none of the doors had little windows in them, which might have given a possible view or insight into each room’s contents. All the doors were also closed, at least all the ones Hetty had so far seen. She had no idea what was behind any of them.

The other buildings she had ed through, she’d basically just walked the length of them, from one interior walkway to the next— she hadn’t veered from her straight-shot through, hadn’t ventured in any other direction to investigate each buildings inner workings. This was the first time she’d done that today— but she was finding the space around her so fascinating, she was in no hurry to stop her wandering— she had to keep the current time in her thoughts, however, because she only had about twenty minutes before she had to turn around and make it back to her own building. She’d only gone four buildings over, and those were connected walkway to walkway, to walkway to walkway. So if she walked briskly, she’d be able to make it back to her classroom in ten minutes or less.

For now, she wasn’t worrying about that. For now, she was just enjoying the strange discovery this building represented to her.

She moved into another one of the many common areas— and nearly jumped in place when she did. Russel was sitting in one of the chairs, looking through a textbook.

She had come back to a stationary position, but now it was her heart doing the jumping— almost like it was trying to jump forward out of her body just to be closer to Russel.

She could give him a flash— she could— but somehow, that didn’t seem like enough. And this was different than all the other times they ran into each other— Russel was sitting, she was standing, they were in the same location together and neither one of them was in an immediate rush to get somewhere else. They could have more than a treat today, maybe— they could have a whole meal— they could just enjoy the fact that they were together in the same place— and see what happened from there.

“Russel,” Hetty said— and he looked a bit disoriented at first when he raised his head out of his book. Then he ed that Hetty had been the one to talk— and he closed his book, and gave her a warm smile.

Hetty’s eyes scanned the room. “Where could we go? Where could we go to have even more privacy?”

Each door stood in place as a mystery— no window in the wood, no window in the wood— oh, that one did have it— it looked like there was a stairwell back there— the door that was just to the side of where Russel was sitting— the walkway of the hall went around behind Russel’s chair, behind the common area and continued until the interior wall of the hall started up again after stopping to create the rest of the open area— but it was across the empty walkway that this door to the stairwell sat— so Hetty ed behind Russel, across that walking lane, and to the door. She pushed it open. Yes, there was a stairwell in here— the stairs were all made of poured concrete— and it was a tall stairwell— she had been wandering on the fourth floor, but there were quite a few landings above where she looked in now, all parallel to each other, and sitting at each floor— and then there were the three landings below, since the stairs had to go down three levels to reach the main floor.

She turned, and Russel was already standing behind her.

She moved on impulse— she took him by the hand and pulled him onto the landing of the stairs. Then she kept drawing him, starting to go down one flight of stairs— she stopped him when he was at the top-step, but she herself had already descended three— she gestured for him to sit, and then sat herself, three steps down.

This had her directly lined up with Russel’s crotch— she didn’t even have to be kneeling— which was a good thing, considering the stairs were made of concrete.

“I didn’t even know what I wanted— I only know now that I see you sitting there.” Hetty itted that truth freely— her tongue was out to swipe across her lips— she was, after all— gazing at something delectable.

She looked up and met Russel’s eyes. “Can I take you into my mouth? It’ll be a lot more than a treat, but… those treats… every time we sneak one, it makes my appetite greater. I need something more filling now, if I’m going to leave this building satisfied.”

Russel smiled in his kind way. “Yes, I think they’re having a similar effect on both of us.”

He leaned forward a little from where sat, where the landing became the top stair, and then he was quick to let himself out of his pants.

There he was, naked and full— “Oh! I just started salivating.” It was as much of a surprise to her as it seemed to be for him.

She didn’t wait for anything before starting. She just ducked her head down, and put her mouth on his cock— kissing it, licking it at first— then very quickly moving to the head of it, and putting her lips around it there; then she was sucking, at first with the force of her mouth, but not long after that, with the force of both her cheeks.

She settled into what she was doing— running her tongue over Russel when he was inside her mouth sometimes— other times, not bothering to lick him at all, only focusing on coaxing him down her throat, swallowing around him to get him in her more snugly, get him in her more deeply. He didn’t seem to prefer one method over the other— just seemed to enjoy everything she was doing equally, enjoyed it and didn’t, apparently, want her to stop.

She went on with greater enthusiasm. Her licks were longer— her swallows were deeper, her sucking more eager. She was doing some of the best work she’d ever done— her boyfriend had never been treated to such a buffet of pleasure as this— Russel was, in this moment, the only one who had ever had this from her— perhaps he would go on to be the only one who would ever have it. Giving anyone other than Russel this love was… well, a bit unthinkable…

She stopped trying to think of anything other than the way it felt to move her mouth on him.

It was turning her on to do this, too; she could feel her breasts and her pussy aching— she was giving pleasure and giving it was getting some for her too— drool was pouring out of the sides of her mouth, running down her face. She was doing it so messy and sloppy, but it was worth it for the way Russel sounded as he rocked himself into the warm, soft, velvet opening she had encased around him.

She sucked him.

Then she found she was pulling her mouth off him. Instead of sucking him, now she was nuzzling him. And there were words bubbling up, seeming to rise from her heart directly into her throat. Between kisses she placed on his cock, she was letting them spill out.

“I just had a small crush on you before— it was an infatuation at first.” She kissed his cock again. “Then it was a small crush.” Kissed him again. “Then a big crush.”

She gave a kiss then that was more like she was dragging her lips along the length of him, smearing them in the stickiness she had produced herself and put on him with her mouth.

“It’s more than a crush now. It’s gone beyond that. I feel… sympathy for you. Now, I only seem to want to think about you— and think about your life— think about everything happening in it, and how challenging all those things are— I don’t even know many personal details about you, but I just feel so sorry for you all the time. It’s hard to be a student, it’s hard to take classes— but you’re doing it, you’re doing it every day, and that must take such a toll on you— it just makes my heart feel like it’s going to burst!”

She had kept her mouth free and unkissing through that spilling of words, but she had never stopped nuzzling him against her cheek. She felt lit by the truth of what she’d said.

“I’d just like to do anything I could to make everything better for you. Easier, more enjoyable— anything I could do— I’ll have to think about it some.”

Then it was just too tempting to refrain any longer. She plunged him back into her mouth, and in about another two minutes, Russel was spilling his spend down her throat.

She stood up first, and looked at her watch. Eight minutes until her class started. If she all but ran, she could make it back.

“See you later.”

For the rest of the week after that, it seemed to Hetty there was an additional charge between her and Russel— they had been sexually intimate now, and that was definitely a part of it. But every time Hetty saw Russel… Well, he’s definitely ing the last thing I said to him. He’s thinking about how I want to help him more— how I feel for him. She thought that, or a variation of it, whenever their paths crossed.

She thought it when they walked past each other in the halls. And when they did each other like that, Hetty kept up with her efforts towards giving them both a mutual treat.

But she also thought thoughts like that one when they were in class together, and she was teaching everyone. Teaching everyone, but feeling she was only speaking to him.

And there was another thought running in the back of her mind practically continuously. When she was alone, sometimes she even said it out-loud.

Poor Russel, it’s so hard to be a student. Poor Russel, I should think of a way I can help him more. He deserves something that will make things easier for him. He deserves more of my help…

The first class she had him in, that fourth week after the midterm, she felt the charge that came from looking at him, from being regarded by him. And she thought that repeating thought on a loop in her head, but came to no conclusions.

The second class that week went much the same way, but when that class came to an end, and all the students were filing out, she had a flash of inspiration, and beckoned Russel to her.

The two of them stood quietly until everyone else had left the room. Only then did Hetty begin to speak.

“I’ve been thinking more about your situation,” Hetty started. “And how I feel about you— how much I want to give you even more help than before.”

Russel nodded. “And I really appreciate you doing that.”

Hetty smiled at this acknowledgement; she felt her face flush a bit, too. “Having said that… Russel, could I come back with you to where you live, at the end of the day today?”

His eyes widened. He hadn’t anticipated that she would ask for this, clearly.

“Or maybe I could just meet you there? As much as I would love to leave with you right now, I believe you have at least one more class today. And as for myself, I have one more class to teach. I’d love to cancel it for you, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get away with it if I do that. So maybe best to meet where you live sometime this evening, or late afternoon, when we’re both finished with everything. And then I can… help you.”

Russel was the one who flushed a bit now— his breathing seemed a bit quicker than a regular breath-pace too.

“Y— I mean, yeah, sure Professor. I’ll just—” He leaned over her desk, riffled through her things there until he’d retrieved both a scrap of paper and a pen. Then he scribbled on the scrap, stood from his lean, and pressed the piece of paper into her hand.

“I should be home by six-thirty,” he said. “You can come by any time after that.”

Hetty turned the scrap over— it did indeed have a street address printed on it; also an apartment number.

Russel gave a nod of his head, and then he was gone from the room, also.

Hetty collected her things, clutching the scrap of paper tight in her hand all the time. She hurried to make it to her second classroom of the day. To her, it already felt like time was going more slowly than usual. She just wanted to get through this class quickly… and then move quickly through the hours after it that she would have to wait before leaving.

The hours did eventually , though they seemed to crawl as they went by. Finally, Hetty was in her car, with all her materials on the seat beside her, and a piece of paper she folded carefully and slipped into her shirt, under her breast.

She knew the street that Russel had indicated on the scrap of paper, so she drove in that direction until she had reached it; then made her way up the street until she’d reached the small apartment complex which housed Russel’s apartment. She got out of the car, and locked it, then ran up to the entrance.

It wasn’t locked, so she was able to go right inside, to the door of Russel’s apartment.

She checked her watch again. The time was six-forty.

Then she knocked on the door— and very quickly, Russel opened it.

“I just got back,” Russel volunteered. “You can come in.”

She walked past him, and kept walking until she’d come out to the main area of the apartment, which had a sofa and a large window, covered by blinds which were currently shielding against any outside view. All the better.

It was a pretty small place actually. But she was still surprised Russel lived on his own at all, instead of living in a dorm.

She had come to stand in front of the sofa. Russel had stepped so quietly she’d missed his transition, but now he was seating himself on the sofa.

“Do you work?” Her tone of voice made clear her incredulity.

“Not during the year,” Russel said, shaking his head. “I work really hard in the summers— taking two, three jobs at once. Then I save up enough to have my living expenses for the rest of the year until the next summer comes around, and I work again.”

“It’s nice to hear that,” Hetty said, nodding to herself. “It’s nice to know something more about you.”

Russel shifted a bit on his sofa, giving Hetty a more expectant look. She knew what he expected of her.

“I’ve been letting you see flashes of me, Russel,” Hetty started. “I’d like you to see the whole of me now, but I want that revelation to feel special. I won’t show you all at once— I’ll show you slowly. But I’ve only been showing you flashes of me up until now, just like I’ve only given you flashes of insight into my course up until now. An answer here, a recommendation there. I want to give you more of that insight, too. And I think seeing my body as I give it to you will help. It won’t only be enjoyable— the sight of me will be like a visual aid, a memory aid— you’ll only need to how I looked, and it will trigger the memory of the information.”

She shifted on her legs a bit— a little shy, but ready to do this. “There’s going to be another quiz next week,” she concluded. “I’m going to give you every single answer.”

She was dressing skimpy nowadays; and she wasn’t wearing underwear beneath her clothes, so she had to time everything out right— she could only really remove two articles of clothing— and she wanted her top to go last, because of the piece of paper folded up in it; but she wanted to give Russel a lot of visuals, enough to match up to all the answers on the quiz, of which there were twelve.

She was shimmying a bit where she stood. She let herself start.

She shared the first answer as she leaned herself fully forward, bent at the waist, so Russel could look up her cleavage went on; she swayed a bit while she was displayed like this, to really enhance the visual.

She shared the second answer as she put her back to Russel— she shimmied down into a crouch, really highlighting her ass as she went.

She shared the third answer as she rocked herself forward onto her hands, so that her crotch was thrust out, and visible beneath her skirt.

Then she answered the fourth question as she raised herself back up to standing, undulating her body as she went, so that her breasts were even more highlighted.

The answer to the fifth question came as she took hold of her skirt, playing with it, pulling it a little lower, then a little higher, all in a tease.

The answer to the sixth question was offered as she finally pulled the hem of the skirt high, making her pussy visible from the from the front.

She answered the seventh question as she turned around, seizing hold of her skirt in the back— pulling it a little higher, then a little lower, teasing again.

She answered the eighth question as she pulled her skirt up in the back, giving a good view of her asscheeks in that moment.

As she answered the ninth quiz question for Russel, she let her skirt fall in place, and then turned back around, letting her hips sway as she went.

Then as she answered the tenth question, she played with the base of her top, pulling it up, pulling it down— showing a little of her waist, and then her belly-button.

Then as she answered the eleventh question, she gave her skirt a little tug, and kept moving her hips back and forth until she’d worked her skirt all the way down. She then gracefully stepped away from it.

As she answered the twelfth and final question, she pulled her top up over her head in one yank— and then caught the folded paper that tumbled out— she’d folded it into a paper airplane— she quickly smoothed its few creases and sent it sailing to Russel as she stood naked before him.

It hit his shoulder and fell in his lap. When he opened it, he would find all the answers she’d just spoken for him.

He was smiling at her. She really had helped, after all.