The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Matt’s eyes snapped open and stared into darkness. Something wasn’t right; his head seemed oddly distant; he knew he must log onto the Gates site urgently. He brought the blurred read-out on his digital clock into focus – 12:45am – there wasn’t much time. Walking through the lounge to the corner where his monitor toyed with its screensaver, he studied the scene with disbelief. All trace of earlier revelries had vanished, cleared away presumably by his dedicated harem of “clients”. Neither was there any sign of Susan – her keys had disappeared along with any discarded clothes. He might even have wondered whether any of it really happened, except his groin told its own incontrovertible story.

Sitting down at the computer, Matt quickly accessed Gates to Paradise and submitted to the increasingly familiar debriefing process. Swirling colours and yet another unique swathe of electronica cleared his mind of yesterday’s input. By the time he came to and faced the new selection screen he felt quite himself again. New options rose out of the spiralling clouds: Vision…Transformation…Intuition…Charisma…Fortune…

His fingers began to loosen their grip on the mouse, causing the cursor to cease its wanderings. A vague sense of anxiety imposed itself on his attempts to choose. ‘What would have happened if I hadn’t made it back in time? Dare I truly pass through the final gate? And when I reach Paradise, what then?’

Options condensed into view and then out again, propelled by their mysterious carousel.

Each day’s experiences had been defined by unparalleled revelations but wasn’t he engaging in some kind of Faustian pact? Maybe – although what could happen at worst? He didn’t have to make a final choice: he could end it now, or tomorrow? He thought about simply walking away but a twitch of feedback from his mouse brought him to the realisation that he was still holding it and had yet to concede the challenge. ‘Tomorrow it is, then,’ he decided and, for some unknown reason, selected ‘Transformation’..

“Transformation is your power for today. Return by 1:00am or face the consequences.”

“You should know that this is a rare gift and must be used sparingly: no more than twice in any one day. Neither is it safe to extend the switch beyond six hours in total.”

“Choose your new body with care and always remember who you are, for some who are transformed never find their way home again…”

Colours, sounds, spirals…sleep…

He very nearly avoided his usual morning train. The prospect of facing Susan after last night was daunting, to say the least, but there was no alternative; he might as well endure their mutual disgrace now as later. He tensed as Susan sat down, greeting him with a wan smile before removing her dark glasses. Nothing was said as she commenced her daily routine with the blusher.

“Look, Susan, I’m really sorry, Ok? Matt began.

Returning his gaze with a gentle look, Susan tried to apologise herself. “No Matt, it’s my fault. It was so rude of me to fall asleep in front of your clients like that. I don’t know what came over me. I hope you didn’t lose any business because of it. You know, the oddest thing is that I don’t even remember how I got home!”

She doesn’t remember!

“No, Susan, not at all. You’ve been working so hard recently and the mind plays some pretty mean tricks sometimes. In fact negotiations went very well; I know Joanna will be pleased. So, no worries.”

Susan took hold of Matt’s hand and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Matt. It won’t happen again, promise. I think a couple of early nights will sort me out and we’ll pick things up at the weekend.”

Matt smiled back and gave her hand a light squeeze.

“In fact,” Susan continued more cryptically, “I have some new vouchers that might just give us the pick-me-up we’re looking for.”

Matt couldn’t hold back a small laugh of relief. Susan was up to her old ways; she would be fine.

Arriving at work, Matt’s new status was hardly a surprise. As persona non grata he could expect plenty of opportunities for solitary reflection. Well, that would be ideal for what he had in mind; the fewer interactions today, the better. He had already formed his plan of attack. This was Judgement Day for ol’ Gemma McCreedy!

Carla was already at her desk as he powered-up his meagrely equipped alcove. Her usual bright “Good morning Matty” was conspicuous by its absence. He spent a few minutes weighing up the day’s pattern of activity – nothing out of the ordinary – and set up a sequence of banal admin that he could complete in his sleep. In fact, he would need to! From what he had intuitively understood, the host personality enters a state of suspended animation, whilst your own body shifts to autopilot and operates according to unconscious habit – rather like when you drive somewhere and can’t recall actually doing the driving.

Settling himself down, Matt focused his attention on Carla, trying to visualise seeing the world through her eyes. His head began to swim and a sensation like disappearing underwater almost made him lose concentration…a few moments of blackness…and then a feeling like coming up for air after a snorkelling down to a coral reef. All his senses begin to re-tune and clarify; only nothing felt the same: as if he had dived down in one location and resurfaced in another.

It was difficult to express, but his vision was sharper, not more focused but somehow more detailed. How strange, for example, that his first thought was that there was a smear of dust on the base of his monitor. He reached over to wipe it clean and was taken aback by the pale pink nail polish on the ends of his slender fingers. The rest came in a disconcerting rush as sensations arising from his whole body invaded his awareness: feet in high heels, bra touching breasts , legs sensing hose, skirt riding up thighs, something different about his abdomen and the feel of his arms, a smell of perfume and a taste of lipstick on the tip of his tongue. His eyes took in his feminine form and then his immediate environment. Panic began to swell up in his chest. He looked over to his alcove and saw the figure of Matt working away, seemingly totally oblivious to his dislocation.

“Carla, how are those latest figures looking?” asked his boss, Joanna LeStrand as she passed on her way to a meeting of Departmental Heads. Matt reacted as if he were a deer caught in headlights. His eyes momentarily widened with shock and the fear of being discovered. Mentally, he had sort of prepared for this beforehand but the reality was overwhelming.

“Oh, sorry Ms LeStrand, I was deep in thought there,” smiled ‘Carla’ apologetically. His voice was female! In fact it was Carla’s! Joanna smiled back – something Matt had never experienced personally in her presence.

“No need to apologise for concentration, Carla. It’s what we pay you for!” Such warmth! “No problems, are there?”

Carla was reassuring. “No, Ms LeStrand, these figures look very promising. It’s a good account.”

“Glad you think so. Email the summary when you have it.” Then Joanna headed for the stairs.

Matt was suddenly conscious of two things: his thumping carotid pulse and the fact that Joanna’s two piece suit was rather smart – I wonder where she bought it?

He sent the documents to the printer and stood up to place a duplicate in the filing cabinet. The Company still liked to have hard copies of key transactions. Walking was suddenly a new sport. He tripped forward over a non-existent seam in the flooring. Fortunately, Carla’s body retained an instinctive memory of the basics, despite Matt’s own mental interference with the process. Standing on higher heels placed pressure in all the wrong places and Carla staggered again before Matt’s mind adjusted to the new sensations. Even so, progress was not exactly graceful.

Returning to Carla’s desk he was glad he had decided to take the opportunity to experiment briefly. However, it was now important to return; he didn’t want to expend any more of the precious time he had available for this experience. Gemma was his real target, after all. Clearing his mind, he focused back on Matt’s form….

…As he came to once more in the alcove he glanced over at Carla. She seemed to be in a state of mild confusion and was looking at the details of her recent printout with obvious puzzlement, but otherwise appeared no worse for wear.

Matt smiled. How intriguing. Getting ‘intimate’ with Gemma should prove revealing!

He spent the rest of the afternoon clearing trivial admin tasks and waiting for the moment he knew would come. Sure enough, soon after 5pm, the door to Ms LeStrand’s office opened and Gemma emerged from going over the day’s project reports. Things had clearly gone well, judging by the width of her painted smile and the cheerful breeze of “thankyou’s” that propelled her homeward. He had to be quick. Ms McCreedy passed by the end of Carla’s desk, pointedly avoiding a look in his direction. Matt focused…

…For no apparent reason Gemma suddenly tripped and fell forward into the small group waiting for the elevator.. Such an unusual faux pas was worthy of comment and her colleagues profusely apologised for the unavoidable contact, in between expressions of concern. Having judged that his brief time as Carla would be enough to wing it, the thought that every woman might be unique had never occurred to him. “I’m sorry,” Matt admitted, “I think one of my heels might be coming loose. Thank goodness we’ve done for today.” Trying not to look cowed in the presence of his – Gemma’s – subordinates, he tried to catch the gaze of one or two but was surprised by the deferential way they avoided direct eye contact. How submissive! This was great. A moment’s exhilaration overtook him as he rapidly began to feel secure in his new form.

Arriving at Gemma’s yellow Alfa Romeo he climbed in, placed his handbag on the passenger seat and tapped ‘Home’ on the Sat-Nav. A short tune from his bag indicated a text message and he extracted the phone to check it out.

c u at 7 chill the drinks wear something informal

D xx

‘D? Hmm. Should be interesting. That’s one boyfriend who will soon be neglecting to return her calls,’ he thought with some satisfaction.

He put the car in gear and pulled forward from the lot, only to stall as his foot misjudged the clutch. ‘Damn! How can anybody drive in high heels?’ He was about to try again when he glanced into the passenger seat-well and saw a pair of flat shoes. Sensible. A quick change of footwear and he was on his way…

…Once at the door to her deluxe apartment, he inserted the key and entered. The alarm started beeping.

Not unexpected.

Approaching the keypad, he cleared his mind and placed his fingers on the little buttons before closing his eyes. After one more steadying breath he let go of any thoughts and started pressing: bip, bip, bip, bip. It worked! He had already decided to trust Gemma’s physical memories in situations like this. Those fingers pressed out the same code everyday: it was simply automatic, if you didn’t actually think about it.

Flinging his coat and bag onto the nearest armchair he took a look round her well-appointed residence. She was stylish, he had to admit it: classy modern art and comfortable décor with an emphasis on clean lines; very urban chic. Moving over to ignite the wall-fire beyond a cosy white rug, he became aware that nature was calling. Where was the bathroom? It didn’t take long to find. He was a bit surprised by the fact that wanting to pee felt just like…well… wanting to pee. But, then again, why shouldn’t it? He stood in front of the bowl and grinned as he realised that he had nothing with which to aim! Turning round, he hitched up his skirt, pulled down his tights and panties and sat. Relief. Pretty much what you’d expect, really. Having finished, he looked down curiously at his new anatomy and wiped things dry. The sensations were novel but not earth shattering.

Now, what he could really do with was a shower. The desire had been building in the car. He needed to wash the day out of his system and the wish to feel physically clean was more powerful than anything he normally experienced. Fixing himself a Vodka Martini, he found the shower room – towels already laid out – and stripped off. The warm spray cascaded refreshingly over his ultra-smooth body, suds drifting lazily in all directions. Mmm. His hands washed round his limbs, reaching his back and gliding smoothly over his firm, well-endowed breasts; they popped back into shape as he rubbed down on them and then let go. Mmm. The sensation of becoming clean was uplifting and he continued on down to his crotch, gently rubbing and cleansing between his labia, before attending to his ever-so smooth buttocks and then down over his thighs. Finally, he was done and he stepped out feeling like a new woman, wrapping his body in a large green bath-towel – and a medium-sized one for his hair – before making for the wardrobe.

As the doors to the wardrobe slid open it felt like gaining entrance to Aladdin’s Cave. The dresses were gorgeous. Just look at those tops. And all those shoes! Matti’s – Matt’s (he lost himself for a moment there) – eyes lit up with the prospect of selecting something just right for “D”. A nearby drawer contained a wide choice of lingerie. Relax, Matt, let her body do the work. Don’t think, just pick things up. Something informal, remember.

Three quarters of an hour later, Matti emerged from her boudoir with her hair tied up in a loose top-knot, dressed in a rather fetching earl grey ruffle-front shirt dress and black t-bar sandals. Her nails and lips were painted karma red and her eyes were darkened all the way round with kohl, giving her a very Indian, sub-continental look. Choosing this appearance seemed natural, as though her body knew something she had yet to learn.

Matt, suddenly became aware that he was on his second Vodka Martini. For a while there, selecting clothing, applying make-up, attending to his hair, he had been overtaken by a degree of Gemma’s feminine personality. It was a concerning state of affairs and he made a mental note not to let his guard slip in the face of too many such distractions.

6:45…

“D” would be here soon. There was an unusual sensuousness about the state of his body as the hour approached and he tried to keep it to the back of his mind, as he happily prepared drinks and buffet items.

The tuneful sound of the doorbell interrupted Matti’s increasingly luxuriating thoughts. He snapped awake and reclaimed his self-awareness. Yet again, he had been distracted by feminine sensitivities. Getting up from the sofa, he checked his hair in the mirror, touching the sides lightly into place with his fingers, and opened up the door.

His heart skipped a beat. Darren!

The executive, whom he had ‘seen’ seduce Gemma on the rug during his first encounter with these extraordinary powers, gave him a warm smile. His sense of arousal advanced one notch. Gemma’s bodily memory was recalling previous encounters and there was nothing he could do to hold the impressions at bay. Moving back inside the lounge, he became acutely aware of how his bare nipples bushed encouragingly against his loose cotton dress. Why didn’t he wear a bra? He didn’t know.

“Hello, my darling,” announced Darren affectionately, as he placed a beautiful bunch of flowers in his hands. They were gorgeous! Matti couldn’t take her eyes off them and her chest filled up with affection. Her obviously welcome guest bent forward, put his arm around her waist and smoothly pulled her forward for a gentle kiss on the lips. She – Matt, rather – smiled warmly back and suggested she – he – find a vase to put them in. What was happening to him? Concentrate! And why was he slightly damp between his legs?

Darren poured them a couple of drinks. “You look nice, Gemma.” Matt felt another tingle of satisfaction. “And your choice of dress for tonight is perfect for what we planned.”

Planned?

“Oh, thankyou, Darren,” he smiled. “You always know the right thing to say. Tell me again about your thoughts for tonight.” He suddenly wondered why he didn’t have the wherewithal to make some annoying remark that would start to fuck-up the relationship.

“Hmm?” He looked surprised, then acknowledged the reason for her query. “Ah, of course, sorry. Reading about Tantra is one thing, experiencing it for yourself…well. When I was troubleshooting for the Company in India , I was lucky enough to be taught the techniques by a master and, even if I say so myself, developed quite an expertise.” Matt felt a momentary pang of jealousy. “Just don’t ask whom I practised on!” he fired back in good humour before ‘Gemma’ could ask. “Tantric massage will open up a whole new world of delight, the like of which you could never have imagined. And once you understand the process, I’ll teach you how to reciprocate. It’s a cliché, I know, but believe me, until you’ve experienced mutual Tantric massage, you’ve never lived!”

Matt had already downed two large Vodka Martinis and was well on his way to finished a third. The room was nicely warm and the deep-pile white rug beckoned. As he moved to the kitchen to pick up some more food, Darren caught up and turned her – his – body round to face him. Matt looked up into Darren’s deep brown eyes and responded naturally to his comforting masculine strength and tenderness. Their lips met in a deeper kiss. Matti was overcome by a strong physical desire to press into him with her whole body and her – his – mouth began to open with rising passion. However, Darren tenderly broke off the embrace. “I think we’re just about ready my love,” he announced and placed their drinks on a nearby occasional table.

An insistent hunger began to grow in Matti’s crotch as Darren led her over to the fireside chair. He laid down a beautiful, close-weaved Indian mantle and positioned several large cushions, embroidered with scenes from the kama sutra. They then shared another drink as Darren explained further. “Tantric massage is about exploring and celebrating our inherent sexual potential to the full; orgasm is a by-product, not a goal. The result is invariably deeply pleasurable and profoundly moving.

Matti’s body was relaxed and responsive. She – he (concentrate!) – was eager for the attention it was about to receive and waves of tingly excitement pulsed up from low down. She could sense that the aureoles of her breasts had swollen slightly and the lightest touch evoked little ripples of pleasure that prompted the desire for further intimacy. Matt was struggling to maintain his mental integrity as, relentlessly, surging female hormones undermined the tenacity of the transformation.

Darren relieved Matti of her drink and eased her loose-fitting dress upwards, allowing her ever-more-sensuous bosom to respond attentively to the small breaths of air that now played about the surfaces. Below, a pair of sky-blue panties, clearly damp in the crotch, pleaded to join the exodus. He stroked the upper regions of her thighs, generating little shivers of sensitivity. Matti’s carefully manicured hands reached over to hold Darren’s head and fondle the back of his neck and ears. The anticipation of pleasure was immense. She was raised up off the chair by her partner’s own strong hands and moved willingly under their guidance, as they at last removed her briefs to leave her completely naked. Positioning her on the new blanket, with back supported by large cushions, so that she could half sit up and observe his actions, Darren then placed additional pillows under each of her knees, in a way that both offered support and helped to keep them apart. In this way, Matti was both comfortable and fully exposed to his ministrations.

Darren was himself casually dressed and wore a short-sleeved shirt that seemed to enhance the obvious muscularity of his hands and arms. It was incredibly arousing as his strength was transferred through his fingers into a wash of manipulation around her body, concentrating on the most sexually responsive regions. He commenced by moving up the length of her legs and around the top of her thighs, carefully avoiding her yoni, as the ancient texts referred to it. Then, he conveyed warmth, stimulation and relaxation over her abdomen and the entire landscape of her breasts, fully swollen now with intense arousal. Deep within her brain the centres of sexual awakening were firing off with growing regularity and endorphins began to flood across the inner realm.

Judging she was now ready, he took a small amount of high-quality oil and poured a small amount onto her mound so that it ran in a little rivulet either side of her already lubricated lips. Then, looking straight into her eyes, inviting total trust, he began what can only be described as an introduction to paradise. Matt was totally engulfed by his new-found femininity. He had no conception of the sexual pleasures that the female body could bestow and was unable to prevent a complete slide into acceptance. Matt’s male persona was rapidly becoming lost. Her mouth opened silently with sheer ecstasy as Darren began to massage her outer lips and mound, gently rubbing and squeezing, holding her gaze throughout. Matti’s body purred as waves of delight pulsed outwards from her crotch. Her legs relaxed into a fully open position whilst her inner thighs quivered with small movements.

Now Darren’s fingers had entered further inward, towards the sacred temple of her vagina. The oil combined with her natural juices to produce an incredibly fluid sensation of contact. Her buttocks thrust rhythmically forward in a motion designed to welcome his gifts and grant him entrance. However, his thumb and fingers had located her clitoris and were working their masterly spell on this most sensitive of organs. Matti let out a moan of gratification and closed her eyes as his strong, knowing thumb motioned first clockwise and then anticlockwise around this treasure of her womanhood. Wave after strong wave of pleasure was building up in her entire lower body and Darren sensed that entrance to her Temple was finally due.

Shifting his right hand downwards slightly, he allowed his left hand to take over the duty of massaging Matti’s clitoris. As the middle finger of his right hand carefully entered her aching vagina, a series of contractions gripped its initial exploratory path and Matti experienced her first orgasm. Her crotch thrust forward inviting Darren to completely fill the throbbing void. However, his finger maintained a restrained pattern of stimulation and continued to travel in and out, applying pressure to the sides and moving deeper and shallower, constantly varying the speed and form of contact.

Matti had the distinct impression of encountering a well and looking down. In her mind’s eye, she allowed herself to grasp Darren’s proferred hand and was suddenly falling, falling, falling into womanhood. Why had no-one explained it would be like this? Matti was female. Her body was a temple of pleasure and femininity from which no return was desired. A second orgasm, more powerful than the first surged up from her crotch. “Ahh.” No longer able to contain herself, Matti groaned out loud. She was, as the texts so aptly described, ‘riding the wave’, and utterly in Darren’s power.

But Darren was a true master of the art. Gently hooking his finger – all the while ensuring that Matti’s mound and upper body were comfortingly massaged with his left hand – he identified a spongy area of tissue under the pubic bone, behind the clitoris. As he made contact with Matti’s G-spot, the effect was electric. Her sensations of pleasure intensified to a new level and lights began to appear deep inside her brain. Building from deep within, a powerful series of pulses and contractions exploded forth and out through every channel of sexual energy in her body, causing gasps of inexpressible delight and uncontrollable shaking in her abdomen and thighs. Her vagina held on tight to his finger and Darren expertly enabled her to surf this final outflow.

Matti was spent and descended into an exhausted stupor of gratification.

Fifteen minutes later, Darren was wiping her down with warm wet towels. Then he applied dry ones. It produced a sensation she likened to being reborn. Looking into Darren’s eyes, Matti gave her lover a tender kiss and allowed herself to be lifted onto the settee. Darren was the centre of her life. She would care for him and be with him, always. Unspeaking, they simply lay together, allowing tenderness to exist in delicate repose.

Gradually, Matti became aware of the need to relieve herself and got up to visit the bathroom.

As she sat, a faint sense of unease fought its way to the surface of her consciousness. It was difficult to put into words and seemed hardly worth the effort, but something deep within told her that if she let go once more and accepted the relief of emptying her bladder, the last vestige of resistance would vanish forever. Matt the man would be no more. Matt would evermore become Matti, for even his name would fade away like smoke. The urge to pee was growing stronger.

Just let it go.

It would be so easy.

Muscles began to relax…

…From a hidden corner, ‘Matt’ somehow held on. It had to be now. Or never. He did not open his bladder. Instead he put all thoughts and feelings to the back of his mind and with a strength he didn’t know he possessed, focused his will on conjuring up an image of himself back home. Gradually, details before his eyes became more indistinct. His concentration held and a watery blanket rose up, seemingly from within…

…Swimming up from a great depth, he clawed for the surface, chest ready to burst open with a desperate need to breathe once again truly as Matt. And then, there he was – staring out at the Sports Channel, bathed in perspiration and respiring hard! How close he came to losing himself permanently was etched shockingly in the forefront of his mind.

Details of the latest scores flashed by unnoticed, as Matt quietly contemplated the prospect of Paradise Lost…