The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The phone rang. Charlene closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the arm of the couch. It rang again. She turned her head and stared at the phone willing it to stop. It rang again. Sighing, Charlene pushed frozen dinner trays from the past few nights aside, picked up the receiver, and spoke, “Hello.” It was a small, tired hello, more a plea to be left alone than a greeting.

“Charlene?” It was her cousin Celeste. “How are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

“I haven’t tried to kill myself recently, if that’s what you mean Celeste. So you can relax, I won’t be doing anything to embarrass the family.” Charlene was sorry she said that as soon as it came out of her mouth. She knew that even if her cousin was concerned about the family reputation, Celeste also meant well and cared for her. But Charlene could barely stand talking to anyone right now and just wanted to hang up the phone. In truth, the main reason that she had not made another attempt at suicide was that she was afraid that she would botch it again. Then she would end up back in the hospital, having to go through more pointless treatments, drugs, and counseling. That would be worse than her life as it was.

“Have you even been out of your apartment in the past month? My folks would love it if you went to visit them.”

“I’m not up for traveling. Tell them I said hi, and that I’m doing fine.” Charlene’s parents had been killed in a car crash the summer she turned seventeen and she had gone to live with her aunt and uncle in Michigan for her senior year of high school. She never recovered from the deaths of her parents, and began having bouts of deep depression in her freshman year at college. They had become longer, and more frequent. Now the depression was continuous. Charlene had not left her basement apartment for weeks. She had food delivered from the market on the corner, microwaved frozen dinners, watched tv, and cried.

“Then how about if I came by and we went for a run in the park?” Celeste suggested. Charlene had been on the high school track team before the accident. Her tan and lithe body she remembered from those days had become pale and soft. Charlene hated the roll of fat that had settled around her middle, and her wide hips and heavy breasts, but she could not bring herself to leave her room for even a short jog in the park.

“No, please, don’t come. You should be spending time with your husband and new baby, don’t come all the way into the city trying to cheer me up.”

“Please reconsider going to see that doctor. I read an article about the treatment he’s using. A study showed that it’s getting great results for treatment-resistant depression. They say four out of six improved immediately, and three achieved full remission.”

Charlene just wanted to hang up the phone, but she knew Celeste would keep calling back. “I really can’t go through any more studies and treatments. I can’t.”

“At least come and the doctor. The article said he’s been having even better success than the study showed. I’ll pick you up on Wednesday.”

Wednesday morning brought Celeste to Charlene’s door. More to avoid an argument than from any hope, Charlene pulled on a baggy sweat suit, pulled her uncombed sandy blond hair back into an elastic band, and went with her cousin. An hour later, she sat in an exam room with Celeste filling out a long, exhaustive questionnaire. The questions had delved into her family, personal, emotional, and sexual history. Charlene reflected that if she had any sexual history since high school, she would have been embarrassed to have her cousin filling in the form for her. But as it was, she had not even masturbated more than a handful of times in the past three years.

A nurse came into the exam room and took the clipboard with the finished form. She looked to Charlene to be only a few years older than herself, no older than her early thirties, but she wore an old fashioned uniform, a starched white blouse and skirt, with white nylons. The petite asian woman checked Charlene’s pulse, blood pressure and temperature. Charlene and Celeste exchanged disbelieving eye-rolls behind her back as she led them into the doctor’s office.

Charlene sat down across from Dr. David Baines. On the wall behind Dr. Baines hung an impressive display of diplomas, licenses and certificates: MD, PhD, board certified psychiatrist and neurosurgeon. He smiled at her as he looked up from the thick folder of paperwork before him. He even looked the part of a successful surgeon. He was tall and slim, with distinguished good looks, and even a touch of gray at the temples of his swept-back black hair. “I would say you are certainly a good candidate for deep brain stimulation. Your medical history shows drugs, psychotherapy, even electro-convulsive therapy have all proven ineffective.”

“I don’t think I like the idea of brain surgery, doctor. What if something goes wrong?” Her finger nervously twirled at her pony-tail.

“No operation is 100% risk free. But this is not an especially complex procedure, and the potential benefits are dramatic and well documented.” He pushed a neat stack of medical journal and newspaper articles across the desk toward Charlene. “You can read for yourself that there is a greater than 60% success rate, and no patients have reported any side effects. Although I haven’t published, with my technique I have an even higher success rate. Nine out of ten of my patients show significant improvements.” Dr. Baines looked intently across the desk at Charlene. “I know in your current state of mind it’s hard for you to decide to take action, but I think this procedure could end the hell you’ve been living with and return you to a normal life.”

Celeste, who had been sitting quietly during the consultation spoke up. “Please Charlene, This may be the way to get back to your old self,” she pleaded.

Two months later Celeste picked Charlene up at her apartment and drove her to the hospital. After the admission paperwork was done Charlene was led to a small pre-op room. After she removed her clothes and put on a hospital gown, the nurse from Dr. Baines office came in. “Hello Charlene, I’m Elizibeth and I’ll be assisting with your procedure today.” She took Charlene’s vitals and inserted an IV in her left wrist.

“We’ll be giving you a mild sedative to keep you calm, and a local anesthetic in your scalp so there will be no pain, but you will be conscious throughout the procedure. That way you can let Dr. Baines know when there is an effect, so he can be sure that the equipment is properly placed.”

Charlene noted that the nurse had completely avoided using the words “brain surgery” and “electrode” in her description.

“Now I have to shave a small patch of your hair. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to comb your hair to conceal it until it grows back in” The nurse picked up a pair of electric clippers. One hand rested on Charlene’s head to hold it steady while the clipper buzzed away. Then the nurse spread some warm shave cream on the area; she leaned her face closer to Charlene’s head and drew a razor across the patch to remove the stubble. Finally she wiped it clean with a towel. Through it all, Charlene nervously drummed her fingers and tried to keep still. The air on her bare scalp felt cool and alien.

Charlene was wheeled down the hall into a small room ringed with cabinets and equipment. “Hello Charlene.” Dr. Baines walked into the room just as the orderly pushed the gurney into position. “We’re almost ready to get started, so I’m going to start your sedative now.” He pushed a needle into a port on her IV line and squeezed the syringe. Charlene began to feel warm and her head became a bit foggy.

The nurse clamped a large metal brace onto the gurney above Charlene’s head, and began to strap her head into it. “We have to make sure that your head stays very still during the procedure.” Despite the sedative, Charlene’s pulse raced and she started to sweat as her head was immobilized.

Dr. Baines and nurse Elizabeth scrubbed and donned their masks and gloves. The bare spot on Charlene’s head was swabbed with antiseptic. “This will feel like a pinch, then there will be a burning feeling.” The doctor injected an anesthetic into Charlene’s scalp. Charlene winced from the pain, but after just a few seconds the burn passed. Then the operation started. Charlene could not see what was happening, but listening she could tell the doctor was cutting an incision in her scalp.

Then she heard the drill. It sounded like a dentist’s drill but deeper. Then the pitch changed. “My God,” thought Charlene. “He’s actually drilling into my skull.” There was no pain, but she could feel the vibration in her teeth. Charlene’s hands clenched and her breath quickened, as she thought about her head being opened, her brain exposed.

“This will take a little time, Charlene, try to relax. We are moving slowly and carefully.” Dr. Baines voice was calm and reassuring. “I won’t tell you when the device is activated. Just let me know as soon as you notice anything.” The doctor continued working for some time behind Charlene, out of her sight. As soon as he activated the electrodes planted deep in her brain, she let out a gasp.

“Doctor, it’s like a weight has been lifted from me, or dark glasses were taken off my eyes.” Charlene grinned from ear to ear. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

He surreptitiously started the second set of electrodes; Charlene’s breath became shallow and rapid. “Ummm... Dr Baines, this is a bit embarrassing, could you come closer?” He leaned down, bringing his ear to her lips. Charlene whispered, “For years I haven’t been at all interested in sex, but now... Well, let’s just say, I’ve thought of a great way to thank you,”

Dr. Baines hand again moved to the control panel behind Charlene’s head, and flipped the switch that set off the third set of implanted electrodes. Charlene’s hands clenched at the sheet on the operating table. A low moan escaped her lips. “You know, your nurse is so hot. If you think she’d be interested, I’d love for her to join us.”

Then it was the doctor’s turn to grin as he glanced at his nurse. “I think it’s time you got a bit of rest, Charlene.” He opened the valve and allowed the sedative to flow into her IV. Charlene drifted off to sleep.

Elizabeth Li, RN stepped into Dr. Baines’ office and waited. Without looking up from the papers on his desk the doctor spoke. “We are alone. Lock the door.” The petite nurse closed and locked the door, then turned back towards the doctor. She sank to her knees and stripped to the waist with well-practiced grace. She arranged her blouse and bra on the back of a chair near the door, being careful to avoid wrinkling the neatly pressed top. Moving to all fours, Nurse Betty (as she though of herself in his presence) crawled around the desk to kneel at Dr. Baines left side.

“The initial indications are that all the implants are operating as expected. It seems all the operations and scans we put you through are paying off in Charlene’s case.” The doctor’s left hand stroked the kneeling woman’s sleek black hair. Her neck arched back as she pushed into his touch. “I was able to much more precisely locate and calibrate the electrodes. I’ll be able to switch her depression on and off like a light. I should also be able to fine-tune her libido to any level I choose. But you already know about that, don’t you pet?”

He gripped a fistful of her hair and tugged playfully, eliciting a low moan from the back of her throat. “Yes Doctor.”

“But the really exciting result is that I was able to influence Charlene’s sexual orientation almost instantaneously. That took months of conditioning for you.” Pulling back on her hair he tilted her face up towards his, grinning down at her. “She said you were hot, and asked if you would be interested in joining us a in a threesome. Well, would you, Nurse Betty?”

“If it would please you, Doctor.” He released her hair, and she bent down and placed light kisses on the tips of his shoes.

“You shouldn’t have to wait too long. I think with the improvements in the implants, I’ll be able to condition her in half the time it took for you.” A shudder ran down the nurse’s spine as she recalled the months of conditioning after the doctor implanted the electrodes in her brain to treat her depression: the awful cycles of resistance, surrender, then backsliding; the hopelessness that returned each time she disobeyed or resisted the doctor’s direction; the terrible cravings for sex that drove her to agree to anything, just for the briefest contact against her pussy. But it had all been worth it. This wonderful doctor had eliminated her debilitating depression, and replaced it with a sense of belonging and purpose, as his nurse and his slave. Her tongue traced along his wingtips, which she had polished to a high shine just this morning. As always, the familiar feeling of security and subservience warmed her, and pushed memories of the unpleasant aspects of the conditioning from her consciousness.