The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The plan was insidious to say the least. They had created a new microchip that could be connected to your spine and controlled several impulses. They would market it as an appetite suppressant and after they got enough volunteers, The people would switch on the chip in full force and completely control them.

They got approval with a chip that didn’t have the transmitter/receiver or all the electronics for mind control the real chip had. Then they hired a test group. In a month, flabby men turned into muscular hunks and chunky women were transformed into thin, voluptuous vixens. Those former lardbutts were the actors in the commercial.

Are you sick of being overweight? Tired of diets that just don’t work or don’t last? Then we have the product for you. You can have all the flavors you want and drop pounds like you never thought possible. The answer is the future of weight reduction, the diet chip.

In a simple 10 minute, outpatient procedure, the chip is placed on your spine and sends signals directly to your brain, specifically the areas for taste, digestion and motivation. The taste facets makes foods that are healthy for you taste like the foods you love and keeps you from overeating. The chip makes your brain say to your stomach, “speed up” and process the food you eat quicker. The chip also has a feature that increases your will to exercise in any way possible. Plus, it tricks your muscles into working just a little bit longer. All of these put together makes the perfect and easy way to lose weight. Just listen to these satisfied customers.

A month ago I was 300 pounds. I tried to diet but I always gained the weight back and more, especially after my kids. When I tried the diet chip I was amazed at how easily I lost the weight. Asparagus tasted as good as chocolate, Carrots like cheesecake. I felt like I was gorging myself on sweets, but was still eating very healthy. My energy just went through the roof. I feel more alive than ever before, and the best part is I know the chip will keep me looking beautiful.

I was always a big fat slob. I used to be fat, lazy, and unattractive to all women. Then I tried the chip. I didn’t eat any junk food and had healthy things. All of a sudden I felt the urge to work out and run during my off hours. It felt great to run a mile and not feel my muscles ache. Now I have the confidence to go out and face the world as a stud, not a dud.

After I had the twins my body wasn’t exactly what you’d want in an exotic dancer. Faced with being sent out on the street with two little babies I tried the chip. It took me maybe a week to regain the tone I needed to look beautiful on stage. And the energy makes me a better performer. The nurse overheard me grumble about my sagging breasts and she made a little adjustment to the chip that made my tits perk up and grow bigger than before! This chip is a miracle!

And these are just a few of the success stories we hear. Every person who has tried the chip has lost all the weight they wanted and been able to eat like they always dreamed. and you too can be part of the revolution at a dietchip surgeon opening near you. The installation costs less than a year of Jenny Craig or weight watchers with more dramatic and guaranteed results.

The dietchip installation was done through hundreds of doctors and several health franchises. Every surgeon was given two thousand in stock on opening day. People were rushing the stores and going on waiting lists 5 thousand people long. The more surgeons that started to participate and install chips, the longer the waiting lists got. Movie stars had them implanted, people on welfare saved all their money to buy the chip. The president even got one. The manufacturing plants were working 24 hours a day to pump out chips for the entire world. The head men were very happy.

You could see the difference as you walked down the street 3 months later. Millions upon millions had lost all the weight they wanted and looked great. Others were just begining to lose fat and began to slim down. 200 million people around the world had chips on their necks and at least twice that many were on waiting lists. That’s when I found out the truth.

I was about 10,000 chips behind on the waiting list at my HMO. So I decided to sneak into the Diet chip database and move my name up a few thousand spots. I hacked in with breeze and saw all the internal files the dietchip corporation had, including a long list of e-mail. I opened one and saw this memo.

to: all board members

re: transmission concerns

T-minus 4 months, 3 days, 15 hours, 12 minutes

The statement has been made concerning the viability of the chip after years of use. especially under concern is the ability of the receiver to continue working. Our scientists have looked into the problem and found anybody with the mantra controlling them over 72 hours becomes helplessly obedient. Maintenance will be a non-priority matter, direct link is a convenience. To the worries about whether all the chips will activate correctly at T-minus zero, I say that the 95% success rate in tests is sufficient. Any malfunctions can be captured and dealt with like any of the non-converts. Do not worry, everything is going better than planned.

I was understandably concerned. I should have remembered the old adage, “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is”. More probing got me all sorts of goodies on the little chip. Some of the technology was beyond even my extensive knowledge of electronics. Of course, I flunked biology. As far as I could tell, this thing created brain waves in the implanted’s mind that forced them to obey.

Like an idiot, it took me 90 minutes before I thought of contacting someone with this information. I tried to get into my e-mail and the line disconnected. I picked up the phone and it was dead too. Shit, I gotta tell someone in person quick. I pulled an overcoat over my pajamas and headed to the door. I stepped out and found three very large men waiting for me. Soon after, I was out cold.

“She’s ugly as hell”

“Probably why she was hacking computers at 10 PM on a Friday night”

“So I suppose they’ll test the series 6 on her?

“I’d put money on it. She’s a prime candidate for advanced manipulation.”

“As long as I get her first”

I woke up strapped to a chair in a laboratory. The second thing I noticed was the absence of a coat or anything else on me. My head was pinned to the back of the chair, but I could move my eyes enough to see half a dozen people working furiously at several workstations. An older man in a lab coat smiled as he approached me. The name “Ted” was embroidered on his smock

“Hello miss, I think you know why you’re here.”

“You’re the ones that made the diet chips. You traced my computer when I accessed those files and showed up at my front door. Now I’ll probably become a mindless slave a couple of months earlier than the rest of the world.”

“Mostly correct, but you didn’t get the whole truth. A slave as ugly as you would be worthless. If it weren’t for the series 6, we would’ve shot you at the first opportunity.”

Two things came up simultaneously in my mind. First, I didn’t think I was that unattractive. I wasn’t going to be on a swimsuit calendar, but I wasn’t a Jerry Springer fatso. Second, I was worried what this “series 6” thing was going to do to me. I was scared as shit from not knowing. As far as I knew, it would turn me into a psychotic super-soldier to enforce their schemes. It could turn me into a human organ bank just as easily in my imagination.

Ted reached behind me and pressed a button. A bell rang and all the men at their workstations stopped to stare at the process. There wasn’t much to it. I felt the pinch of a needle on the back of my neck and it went numb. After that, it was all whirring until something made me fall asleep.

I woke up again with an awful headache inside an immaculately white cell. I was still naked, but didn’t look or feel any different. I got up to stretch and noticed the glass of water on the table. Since I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for awhile, I took a swig. The first thing I noticed was that it wasn’t water. Of course, I had swallowed a bit before I found that out. Ted’s voice came over an intercom and said, “good, now we can begin the test.”

It felt like some one jabbed a dozen ice picks into my brain and turned on a shrill buzzer to accompany it. I keeled over and threw up. I vomited like I never had before. after about twenty minutes I was shaking on the floor in a puddle of every juice and excretion I had. Master would be very displeased at my filthiness.

What did I think? Did I just refer to master as master? Ack! I did it again. Ok, the name on the lab coat was Ted. The man’s name is Master. Shit! What did they do to me? I stood up and tried to wipe some of the puke off me. I then noticed there was a lot less of me in some places. It looked like I had dropped 35 pounds of flab and put more pounds on my ass and top. My hair was a mess, and it had gone from dirty blonde to pure white. My legs looked sexier and the stubble was gone from everywhere. There was a mirror nearby and I sneaked a peek. It was my face, just with a nose job, collagen, and a major acne treatment. I was one sexy slave.

Oh no. I called myself a slave, didn’t I? They screwed with my mind while my body went through the changes. I tried to say my name and all that came out was Trixie, I couldn’t even think of a last name or what my real name was, but I knew it wasn’t Trixie. I tried to say the names of some male friends, but for every one, I could only say “Master”. When I tried some of my girl friends, “Mistress” came out. When I tried to remember things in the past, a memory of sex popped into my head. I remembered graduating high school, but that was coupled with a new memory of giving my Gym teacher a blow job in the bathroom afterward. I knew on one level that never happened, but I remembered it vividly.

Eventually the strain of it all got to me and I once again fell to the floor. Fortunately it wasn’t accompanied by more vomit. I just laid there and stared out the bars of my cell. Across the way was another woman like me. She must’ve come over to comfort me after I realized the changes to my psyche.

She was a knockout. White straight hair down to her shoulder blades, sparkling green eyes, full breasts I estimated at about a D-cup or better, long, smooth legs ending in a deliciously shaven pussy I just wanted to nibble on. Whoa! Did I just think what I think I just thought? I’ve never been gay, but now I want to run my hands all over her. At least this explains the sparkle in her eyes, she’s probably thinking what I’m thinking.

Note to self. If I ever get out of here with all my marbles; punish my parents severely for getting me a computer instead of a car for my 18th birthday. I just can’t take this, what are they going to do to me? Oh god!!!!!!!

I woke up on my couch and daylight was streaking through the shuttered windows. What a weird fucking dream. I didn’t think that stuff could be so real. My arm was close to the remote and with a little effort I turned on the tube.

“Good morning, Today is Monday, April 14th and you’re watching CNN.”

Oh fuck. I had either slept for over 48 hours, or that dream was real. I leapt off the couch and looked down. I was buck naked and looked like I did in the dream, but it wasn’t a dream. I had to sit back down, my brain was whirring in confusion. Why was I back here? What’s going to happen next? How long until most of the world was turned into sexy pieces of slave ass like myself. Shit, the brain fuck still had a hold on me. I tried to get to my phone, but found I couldn’t dial the police. My hands wouldn’t obey the rational part of my brain. I picked up the receiver and felt a sharp pain go through my arm. There was nothing wrong, the pain was entirely in my mind. Oh Christ am I in trouble.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I started my daily routine. I went to the shower to find it stocked with sweet smelling herbal shampoos in lieu of my generic dandruff stuff. Feeling the water run over my body was a much nicer experience than before. Every nerve ending was on over drive as the water ran over my smooth curves. I caught myself with a hand near my cunt and snapped out of my little bliss-fest. I dried off and went to my closet to find some clothes. Nearly everything was cleared out and in its place remained a set of wispy undergarments and a ludicrously tight little black dress. The other accessories were laid out on my bed as well. It was obvious I was no longer making the choices. I finished getting ready on automatic, pausing at the mirror near my door to look at what I had done. My dress left little to the imagination and my face was done up much heavier than I liked. The entire package was quite a sexy sight and seeing that woman in the mirror was getting me horny. Uh-oh, I’m still bisexual.

I happen to live near enough to my office that I walk in the morning. Walking to the door I tried my best to do something, anything, to demonstrate control over my body. I focused all my concentration on shutting my left eye. Inside I strained like I was using every muscle in my body. To the passerby, I was sauntering down the street. I tried other things during work. Curl my pinky finger, make a small noise, smash my head into the computer monitor, everything and anything to exert some control.

After about 3 hours I was tired out and it was lunch time. I surrendered to my body as it went downstairs to the company cafeteria. I could hear the whispers of my co-workers on the way

“Do you see how she’s dressed? I never would’ve guessed (garbled) was such a slut.”

“Man, I’d like a piece of that.”

“Boy, why did she pick that hair dye”

“The Diet chip did a real job on her. How did she get one?”

If only that last person knew the type of job done on me. I picked up a salad instead of my burger, paid the cashier, and went over to Roger Timms, one of the accountants. We hadn’t really dated but were friendly acquaintances. You could say we were in each other’s league, dating-wise. That was last week though.

“Damn, looking fine (garbled). Where’d you get it done?”

Several things hit me at once. One, why did it sound garbled every time someone said my name? Two, it wasn’t a social faux pas anymore to ask if or where (or how) you got some work done on your body. Three, I was leaning forward to eat my salad a lot further than necessary. Also, This salad was tasting like leafy cheesecake, if that makes any sense. I guess the chip does work like it says.

“So Roger, you want to finish lunch somewhere private.”

It was the first sentence I had used all day, and it was not of my own volition. Roger was surprised at the invitation, but after a suggestive rub or two, we retreated to a janitor’s closet. I nearly pulled him across the building, and was screaming inside when we stripped off our clothes. Then he stuck it inside me.

I have sadly limited experience in the matter, but from my experience, this was the best sex in history. At least it was from my point of view. I kept going of at every pump, but was able to control my screams so no one came in and saw us. After a while I just went with the flow and soon I was grinding my hips by my own will. He finally came hard and the two of us collapsed in the closet.

It took a minute, but we helped each other up and back into our more rumpled clothes. Wait, am I controlling this? I squeezed my hand and it complied. Roger had rushed back to his cubicle, 15 minutes late, and wasn’t there to see me do anything. I had taken a little longer and found myself walking out the door, again on the automatic pilot stuck in my head. I tried the hand squeeze and it didn’t work. I was able to make a slight squeaking noise in my throat, and one person even turned their head. Soon later I was back in the passenger seat.

I had regained control, albeit partially and briefly. It must have been the sex. It must’ve momentarily shorted out the hardware controlling me. So I just need to have a very intense orgasm, keep it going, and i may be able to get help. Unfortunately I can’t do anything except go along for the ride back to my desk.

This time I watched what I was doing instead of trying to fight the control. It wasn’t the Robinson account. My body was accessing employee records and saving them to a disk. I was carrying out espionage and recruiting for these bastards and couldn’t help it. My body left at 5 and made its way to the bar on the ground floor of my building.

The bar was really in the middle of one of those theme restaurants, but it was close and filled with eligible guys. I had gone fishing there before, but now I was using a drag net. I walked up to and sat next to a guy I had seen in marketing. He took a glance down my dress and gave me a lame pick-up line. We chatted for a ridiculously short time before we set off for my apartment.

Now I’m ready for it. We dispensed with the small talk and our clothes and got straight to bed. He didn’t last long, but I had an orgasm. I was still blurry, but I reached out my hand and was able to find the notepad in my night stand drawer. I got to the pen when my grip released and the implant controlled me again.

I tossed my work clothes in the hamper and broke out the skimpiest thing I had ever seen short of a swimsuit or lingerie. I swear the bottoms of my breasts are visible, and so are my crotchless panties. This slave looked hot.

Fuck!!!!!!! That “slave” business is coming back. Slave6-p can see the pad and pen as it gets the stolen CD from it’s former owner’s night stand. Why Can’t this slave think in the first person? The Implant must be strengthening. Crap.

This Slave is going down the stairs and walking towards downtown. More specifically, it will be in the red light district. Before this slave can get all the way there, a limo pulls up next to her and she gets inside. Oh my god! This slave has become a prostitute!

Even worse, a master has retrieved this slave. This can’t be happening! This must be some strange dream. Slave 6-p know it’ not though. The ride is long, and there is a master inside fondling me. This slave doesn’t orgasm though. She is led through familiar hallways to the room where it all began.

“She almost regained partial control. However, those problems were corrected prior to pickup. All self-identity is gone, even inside she sees herself as just a faceless slave now.”

“Are you sure? I’m getting some slight beta waves from her. Looks like we need to adjust the frequency of the implant .02%.”

“Sounds right, and... I’m... done. All modifications done. Time for a test.”

“What is my name?”

Master.

“What color is my hair?”

Brown.

“What color is the hall outside?”

I do not know.

“Perfect, she has no recall, she simply exists to carry out the instructions of the implant. Order 100 more series six implants performed.”

Man..Fuck..Pussy...Slave..Master...Pleasure...Pleasure...Pleasure