The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 1: Introduction

I have in my possession a sample of mind-control drug. How it wound up in my hands is a bit complicated of a tale. Suffice it to say that I saw the opportunity to take it and I seized the moment.

When I stole it, I was extremely careful to leave no evidence and covered my tracks well. No one will be coming after me looking for it. But I do not know the formula to make more. So all I have is one dose, enough to fill a small vial about the size of my thumb.

I sit at my desk, contemplating the best use for my one shot trick, when Jill Anderson steps into my office to deliver some paperwork.

“Here’s those forms you requested, Sir.” She says politely.

I check out her body. Jill is in her early twenties, nice form, good curves, not too tall, and as hot as a volcano. She must not like my attention, because she frowns a little.

Jill is a good worker and always helpful, but she simply is not interested in me sexually. She does not believe in dating co-workers, especially her supervisor. And in that moment, I reach a decision. I will use my magic potion to turn Jill into my cuddle bunny.

I decide not to use the drug for money or power because those things do not really make me happy. And instantaneous, unexplainable wealth seems like a good way to get asked a lot of hard questions. I would rather stay below the radar of dangerous organizations.

“Do you need anything else this morning?” She asks impatiently.

I have heard through the rumor mill that she is single right now, but not dating. Apparantly she is more focussed on her career than a relationship. Too bad for her that is all going to change.

“Are you busy right now?” I ask her.

“Not really.” she says.

“I need you to work on a special project today. It has to get done as soon as possible. Are you open?”

“How long will it take?”

“I don’t figure more than a couple hours.” I tell her, “But if it takes longer, you might have to take lunch a little late, if that’s okay with you.”

“Uhm, okay. I guess. What do I have to do?”

I show Jill to a records room and explain my sorting project. It is complete bullshit; the only purpose is to get her out of the office for a while. Once she settles in with the archives, I thread my way back through the building to her desk.

First I check around the area to make sure nobody will see me in action. Luckily, no one is watching. Next to her computer is a bottle of orange juice and the seal is already broken. She has only drunk about a third of it.

I unscrew the cap off her orange juice, pour out a little bit, and then carefully pour in my entire vial of stuff. It is clear and dilutes the orange juice somewhat but does not change the color much or have any other noticeable reaction.

Then I carefully place the bottle of tampered orange juice back next to her computer exactly the way it was.

After that, I spend the next few hours finding excuses to wander around the area so that I can watch and be there the exact moment when she comes back.

In the early afternoon, Jill reports to me. Sounding slightly annoyed, she says “I’m finished with the special project you gave me.”

She is smart enough to realize that my project was horseshit, and is probably a little angry that I made her do it. All I can notice is that even a little tired, hungry and pissed-off, she still looks sexy as hell.

“Okay, thank you.” I say “I appreciate the effort you put into that. Sorry it took longer than I figured. Have you had lunch yet?”

“No. I’m starving.”

“Again, sorry about that but it was important.” I tell her “You can go ahead and have lunch now and when you’re done I have something else to show you.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.” she says and hurries back to her desk.

I follow her, a short distance behind, pretending to drift the office on other business. Near her work area, I find a spot where I can discretely stand and watch her without being really noticeable to her or anyone else.

Jill tears into her lunch in hunger. The first swallow of orange juice makes her grimace and lick her lips oddly. It must have a strange taste to it. But she is too hungry to care and shrugs it off. She devours her lunch and washes it all down by finishing the orange juice. I note the time.

Then I patiently wait, to give the substance time to move through her system.

How it supposedly works is like this. After she swallowed the drug, the chemical should begin moving through her bloodstream to her brain. Once there, the drug will somehow loosen the connections in her mind, so that she will have a quality known as “cross parallel learning.”

I am not sure exactly how that happens but what it means is that any statement Jill hears will become completely true for her, no matter how ridiculous. If she hears that dirt is a good source of vitamin-D, or that her name is “Dingus,” or that the color of the sky is actually red, she will believe it. Her mind will re-wire itself.

Five minutes after onset, the effect quickly fades. Jill will no longer be gullible, at least no more than usual. But anything that was changed while she was under the effect of the substance remains changed permanently. So if, while her mind was loosened, she heard that Elvis was the 37th President of the United States, she will go on believing that for the rest of her life.

I check my watch. Still a while to go before the drug will take effect.

Suddenly I realize that I do not have any sort of script. I do not know what to tell her! She will only be gullible for five minutes, and I do not want to waste a second of that.

Worse, I realize, five minutes is really not enough time! There is no way I can implant all the ideas I want in her. At least, not without screwing her up so badly that she becomes a worthless nutcase. And at best, other people will notice the changes.

Unless, while she is under the drug’s influence, I create a back door. I could give suggestions that would build some sort of path or structure in her mind. Then I can use that back door gullibility at a later time, to convince her of more things. If the framework around that one lie is believable enough, she will never question it or the thread of lies that follow from it.

I hastily jot down some ideas and draft a rough script outline that should work. Then I scramble to assemble a necessary prop item for my big lie. I finish my preparations shortly before the drug should take effect.

Trying to act naturally, I approach her desk and say “Hi again Jill, are you finished with lunch?”

She is crunching on the last couple potato chips in a bag, relaxing and fooling around on her computer.

“Yeah, pretty much. What do you need?”

“Can you step into my office for a few minutes?” I ask.

“Sure.” she says and gets up to walk into my office. I follow behind her, admiring the flow of her sheer blouse and the swish of her skirt as she walks.

Inside my office, I close the door behind us and tell her “Have a seat.”

While she positions herself in one of my chairs, I quietly lock the door and double-check my watch. It has been long enough for the chemical in her orange juice to reach her brain. She is ready to believe anything I tell her. At least I hope so, if it worked.