The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Safely back in his cell, Butch stripped and did his best to clean off his jumpsuit and himself in the cell’s sink. He was trapped. His captors obviously knew as much or more about his abilities than he did, and John Doe—the one other person who should feel some kinship with him—treated him like a bug he would much rather squash than waste his time thinking about. He needed to find a way out, preferably one that didn’t involve regular sessions on an electric chair catering to an unseen sadist who treated electrocution like a video game. He noticed that a television screen had been installed on the wall in his room, presumably so he could carry on conversations with people without exposing them to his power.

For a very long time, Butch could do nothing but dwell on his conversation with Mr. Doe. Since he hadn’t been commanded to feel or think anything in particular about the conversation, most of his thoughts were nothing but loathing.

What a silly name: the guy might as well have followed Odysseus whole-hog and called himself Nobody. And God, what a superior attitude! Butch was pretty sure he didn’t buy into the whole ‘I’m a king and you are a three’ bit, but there was no denying Butch’s powers had no effect on the asshole, and John-Ass-Doe could certainly affect him without any apparent effort.

And what was that bit about motivated idiots? Butch was no idiot. Granted, things had gotten a whole lot easier for the last few years.

He had just come back from his mother’s funeral—his dad died several years before—to find some salesman looking for his mother. The guy swooped away fast when Butch asked who he was. Butch did some digging around and found out that the guy had been stopping by while Butch was at work, and had been quietly milking money from his ailing mother in exchange for little more than overpriced vitamins ... he had been doing it for years. His mother had even taken money that Butch gave her for hospital bills and had given it to this guy instead.

Butch tracked the guy down, and had given him a tongue-lashing that should have blistered the paint off the walls. Instead, the guy just smiled a bit and started talking Butch down. The guy was a good salesman; he almost had Butch apologizing for the way he was talking to the creep.

Then something broke loose inside Butch, the colors in the room changed a bit, and whatever hold this asshole had over Butch just fell away. He made the asshole sell everything he owned and split the money between the women he had scammed. He only realized later that everyone had started calling him Master when he told them to do something. That was almost five years ago.

The door on Butch’s cell buzzed. He noticed it, but didn’t put on his drying jumpsuit, or open the door, or even get up from where he was sitting naked on his cot. He wasn’t done thinking about his conversation with Mr. Doe.

It had been a long time since Butch had really sat down and thought about his life. Every two year old is forced to learn that you can’t always get what you want; but for nearly five years Butch had gotten everything he wanted. Had he been regressing during that time back into a spoiled little two year old?

Naw. For one thing, two year olds didn’t fuck beauty queens.

Just then, the television kicked on. A news show was on.

Three Miss Wisconsin beauty pageant finalists were arrested today on charges of fraud, when they and an unidentified fourth individual accosted a customer at the Grand Arms hotel and demanded that he pay for their room. The trio then ran up several thousand dollars in room service and other charges before police arrested them this morning...

Then the television shut off. Instead of reacting with horror or regret, Butch smiled slowly, got dressed, and waved his hands at the security camera.

“I need something to write with,” he yelled at the camera several times, making little writing motions in case the camera didn’t have audio.

His wish wasn’t granted immediately, but there was a mechanical pencil and several pieces of paper under Butch’s tray at his next meal.

It took Sheriff Beauregard “Butch” Smith several months to convince his captors to let him out of Washington, and several more months to both get elected sheriff and get his ladies transferred to the county’s little jail. It helped that he was never legally charged with anything while he was in Washington.

Now that he was a ‘productive member of society’, his life was in many ways better than it was before his trip to Washington. His commands had never lasted more than a week or two, but that was plenty of time to find the truth behind almost any incident, and to ensure that teen vandals and other minor offenders carried out their own punishments. Butch’s record as sheriff was exemplary, even in the eyes of people he had no contact with.

Even though his ladies were technically prisoners, when Butch wasn’t exercising conjugal visits and the jail didn’t have visitors he gave them freedom to wander wherever they pleased within the jail. His new prison shorts were even a bit of a fashion hit with the younger girls in town. They were orange short shorts with “I’ve been a bad girl” written across the butt in letters small enough that most people had to bend over and stare to read it.

Butch worked on plans to make his ladies ‘productive members of society’ too. One of his ladies was already training to replace the department’s aging secretary, and another was working to become dispatcher. Even though he was one of the better paid sheriffs in the state, Butch was fighting to keep to a budget for fear that Washington was still checking on him. Incomes from his ladies would both make keeping to a budget easier, and would allow him to make a significant dent in the debts he was slowly paying off.

One of Butch’s deputies had caught another Miss Wisconsin runner-up speeding, and had taken the initiative to bring her to the station to meet Butch. Butch tried her out, of course, but it was obvious that his other ladies had considerably more practice at giving blow-jobs, and were considerably more inventive in other ways. While he appreciated his deputy’s thoughtfulness, and toyed with the idea of trying to complete the set, he knew the little virgin really wasn’t worth the trouble. This little fish was definitely catch-and-release.

To take his mind off the gagging noise near his crotch, Butch considered getting cable television again when he paid off his debts, but decided against it. He simply didn’t have time to sit around watching TV any more.