Forced To Be A Stripper-A Mind Control Story

Please note : This story is completely fictional!

The John Mellencamp song was blaring loudly as Vanessa danced around under the lights. "I want you to dance naked, so I can see you, I’d like to get to know you, you don’t have to act naughty." Her hips moving back and forth, synchronized with the strings of his guitar, a wanton display of simulated sex. "Spin it round and round, spin it round and round and round, I want you to dance naked." Vanessa twirled around, her unbuttoned blouse blowing out to the side, her bra barely able to contain her large breasts. Her head twirled in circles, her long brown hair fanning out as her head moved up and down. Her short, plaid schoolgirl skirt rose up high, almost to her waist, her black panties silhouetting her white thighs as she twirled sensuously. 

The six men in the room watched the teenage girl perform for them. All of them were middle aged businessmen, except for Doctor Michael, a noted Hypno-Therapist. He had an uncanny ability to put young girls into a deep subconscious state. He could make them lose their inhibitions, all while they were conscious of what they were doing, but unable to stop themselves, unable to stop from performing whatever Dr. Michael ordered. No act of perversions the young girls were forced to perform were taboo. Vanessa was his latest patient. She was 17, going on 18 in a few days. Very beautiful as the men all noticed, six large cocks erect, bulging their pants. She was five foot, eight, about 110 pounds, a slender girl. Her 34C’s bounced up and down as she danced. Her green eyes stared at the men with a peculiar look, the men had seen it before with Dr. Michael's other girls. It was their brains fighting what their bodies were doing. 

Vanessa couldn’t control herself. The bright lights were shining on her body, the six older men sitting in front of her, their eyes peeled to her body as she danced; danced as she had never done before, without inhibitions, her clothes half off of her body. The music went straight through to her brain, John Mellencamp singing, “I want you to dance naked.” She looked at Dr. Michael, her eyes pleading with him, but she could hear his voice, even over the loud bass of the song. “Take off your blouse.” No, her eyes silently pleaded with him. She looked down at her hands, her fingers already unbuttoning the sleeves, her hands pulling the blouse off her shoulders and throwing it to the floor off to the side. Her face was flushed red in humiliation as she began to twirl around again, her hair swinging widely, brushing over her bosom as her hips moved back and forth. She arched her back out, humiliated as she saw how she looked, her large breasts thrust out as if she was trying to show them off to anyone watching. She bent at the waist, her heavy breasts hanging down, afraid that they would break free of the confines of the bra. She shook her shoulders, her breasts swaying back and forth, over half of the white flesh revealed to the men, the music providing the tempo for her gyrations. 

Dr. Michael nodded to the other men. “Lovely girl isn’t she? And such a nice body.” He rubbed his hand over his hard cock as it strained his pants, Vanessa’s eyes staring at his crotch. She looked up, embarrassed at being caught looking. “Your bra now Vanessa. Let these gentlemen see your lovely tits. Make them naked and then dance for us. Let us see them bounce.”

Her back was arched, her proud breasts thrust up high as she fought the urges in her brain. She refused to do such a thing! They would have to rape her, strip her body naked. She wouldn’t do it. She shivered as she felt fingers behind her back, fumbling with the catch of her bra, her hips gyrating wildly as she stood in place. Who was doing it? Looking down, her arms had disappeared out of sight behind her back, her own body betraying her again. NO! She silently screamed when she felt the sudden release as her bra swung loose. She felt her breasts swing down. The pendulous flesh was no longer in the tight, constraining device; the firm, teenage flesh not needing any support. They were not meant to be covered and supported. They were meant to be free and naked. 

They watched her turn her back to them, her skirt pulled tightly over her firm ass, her hips swinging back and forth. Her back was almost naked, the bra strap hanging uselessly, the men eager to see her without the bra. Dr. Michael had told them about her breasts, wanting to see them in the flesh. She turned and flashed them a sexy smile, winking as she slowly let the bra slip down her arms, her palms moving up to take the place of it, her small hands barely able to contain them. She turned around suddenly, bent down into a deep knee bend, legs widely spaced, gyrated her pelvis back and forth, the men easily able to see up her skirt, then back up again. Her arms went quickly behind her neck, laced together, her back arched again, this time her breasts naked, thrust out in exhibition. Her light brown areolas were the size of silver dollars, the loveliest set of hard, pink nipples capped her firm flesh as he undulated before them, her breasts begin a gentle roll as she continued to dance.

No, she couldn’t be doing this, looking down to see how hard her nipples were, her eyes moving to the men, their eyes pinned to her naked breasts. She tried to push her hands over her breasts, wanting to hide them from the men. She looked down, her hands had not moved, still thrusting her breasts out for them, her shoulders moving again, her naked breasts now moving slowly back and forth, unencumbered by the restraining bra. She looked like some kind of whore, stripping naked and dancing for the pleasure of the men.

* * * * *

It had started about a year ago. Vanessa had problems with boys. Boys and men. Her home life was miserable, mainly caused by men. Her father and brother both were constantly trying to molest her. So far Vanessa had successfully fought them off for over four years now, ever since her body began to blossom into womanhood. This hatred towards men had spilled over into her personal life, not dating, a virgin at seventeen, an introvert. While extremely beautiful with such a delicious body, she did not stray much outside of her room at home or her classes at school. Dr. Michael had been trying to treat her for over a year, finally convincing her mother to allow her to undergo a week of intensive hypno-therapy. Her mother, a weak individual, sexually submissive to her husband, had easily relented under Dr. Michael's dominant personality. 

When she had first come to Dr. Michael, the first couple of sessions were very uninteresting, Vanessa saying very little, cowering in the chair before Dr. Michael. But Dr. Michael was interested in this girl. While dressed modestly, learning quickly to hide her body under loose fitting, drab garments, Dr. Michael could see the gentle swell of her ass as she walked, her breasts pushing out her top when she stretched her arms back. Dr. Michael was famous, or infamous depending on how you looked at it, in getting young girls to come out of their shells. He had an uncanny ability, perfected over the last ten years, to be able to hypnotize young girls and make them do things that were normally against their nature. He was often sent the most difficult, accepting only the attractive, more interested in their bodies than their minds. But his therapy did work, the girls would return home after just a week with a new found personality, more outgoing and more personable. And best of all, they remembered very little. Some flashbacks did occur in the girls, but it was easily explained as adolescent sexual fantasies, the girls often not even willing to tell anyone of what they thought they remembered.

Dr. Michael had brought in "investors" over a year ago. For a small sum of money, well maybe not so small as each one was required to pay $100,000 per year, they were allowed to participate in the week long "therapy" sessions and in some cases, might be allowed to participate in the weekly session. They were allowed to watch the girls "perform." And perform they did. Their minds tried to fight the urges and commands that Dr. Michael instilled in them, their bodies unable to resist the powerful subconscious commands. This is what the investors paid so much for, watching as Dr. Michael made the girls strip naked for them, their brains fighting their hands as they slowly stripped the clothes from their bodies; their skin flushed red in embarrassment as their clothes fell to the floor. Unwillingly spreading their legs, their own hand being used to put hard cocks into their virgin orifices, performing whatever perversion Dr. Michael could think of. And Dr. Michael was perverted, his cock always enjoying the girls to the fullest, with the others joining in, taking each girl; two, three, and even four men, stuffing all of her holes with their man sized cocks.