The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The eighth week of the second semester started with a slurp of coffee. Two cups were drained before the first word was exchanged. Alex and Jordan sat in the bustling campus café, their books and papers strewn across the table. The philosophy department at their Australian university was known for its rigorous academic demands. Both of them were feeling the pressure.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Alex sighed, rubbing her temples. “Marking, this godforsaken thesis, Sydney prices, the long commute, and our bloody advisor! What a dick! I’m three months late, and he keeps asking me when this chapter will be done, like I’m not even working on it!” Her empty cup clattered on the metal table.

Jordan nodded in agreement, his eyes glazed over from hours of reading dense texts. “I hear you. Sometimes I wish there was a way to just,” he paused, looking for the right words, “turn it all off. Like my mind was a TV, you know? It’d be great to just sit back and watch my life at double speed.” He blushed, briefly, and failed to change the topic. “I could skip the bad bits.”

Alex looked up at him, her eyes meeting his for a moment before they both quickly looked away. It would be wrong, they both thought, to take advantage of a colleague. The gossip of their peers would be intolerable, even if it worked out — which it wouldn’t.

As they sat in silence, a flashy advertisement on the café’s TV caught their attention. A group of smiling students were shown wearing sleek, shiny latex headphones, their faces radiating relaxation and focus.

The sleek, futuristic headphones seemed to absorb the light, their glossy black surfaces almost like beads of liquid, not yet running down a windshield. The headband was a self-supporting series of gel-filled black latex capsules, promising a day-long comfort, with “perfect-fit” technology. A subtle LED below each ear cup hinted at the advanced technology within, offering freedom from anxiety and stress to anyone who wore them.

The words “Freedom from anxiety!” and “A must-have when studying!” flashed across the screen.

“The Jajo corporation’s new gizmo,” Jordan muttered, rolling his eyes. “As if a pair of headphones could solve all our problems. Upselling noise filtering as some sort of revolution.” He drained his own cup. “It’s spectacular that the techno-fix never gets old, y’know? How long have people have been promising that their miracle whatever would come through and solve all of our problems?“

Alex raised an eyebrow, choosing to play devil’s advocate to wind Jordan up. “You never know. It might be worth a try this time.”

Jordan scoffed and fell for it. “Yeah, right. Like some corporation cares about our mental health. They just want to sell more, and will lie about whatever they need to.”

She smiled and shook her head in rueful agreement, giving up her half-hearted attempt, “Yeah, it’s not like they’re selling coffee.” The Polish-Australian’s curly brown hair bounced in counterpoint.

The campus was hot and muggy, as the late Australian summer had not yet released its hold. In the campus quad, students were wearing not much: undergraduates in mating plumage, Jordan had always thought. The girls wearing scooped halter tops and tight pants like they were about to go to some party, rather than study. The boys were not much better, expensive haircuts and designer jeans all combining in an Instagram-enforced uniform of undergraduate fashion. Sex appeal first, status games second, and being comfortable while studying a distant fifth.

Alex, at least, was dressed sensibly. Still, it was tough to keep his eyes off her tight white t-shirt.

Jordan slammed his hands on the table. “This essay just isn’t working! It feels like my damn brain is bouncing around like a weasel on meth.”

Alex smiled, “At least you don’t have to grade, Jordan. My chapter is due in three weeks and it’s only half done! I also have a hundred essays to grade!”

The humid Sydney afternoon passed in sweat, quiet and friendly bickering, distracted writing, and frustrated trips to the café’s counter and the bathroom once the coffee was finished processing. Alex delighted in breaking Jordan’s brain with mind-numbingly bad passages from her grading. The café closed, and the pair packed up.

As they walked through the campus quad, Alex and Jordan noticed a crowd gathering around a booth emblazoned with the Jajo corporation logo. The booth was staffed by attractive uni students wearing the same sleek, shiny latex headphones they had seen in the advertisement. The bold “Jajo is freedom!” was emblazoned on the shiny black unitards the young hawkers were wearing, leaving very little of their bodies to the imagination. Each of their headphones had a small emerald indicator LED, occasionally blinking red. Closer in, Alex could see how the latex gel bubbles actively conformed to the sales-drones heads. The headphones’ ear cups, comparatively, were slimline: two more black latex gel-pods completely fitting over each ear, and organically flowing upward to link with the bands.

Jordan’s eyes were drawn to these girls, their headsets, and their impossibly sexy attire. At least, dressed this way, the sales-drones were impossible to miss on campus, their sleek, shiny uniforms drawing the eye of every student in the quad.

The outfit consisted of a single, seamless unitard made of jet-black latex-like material that clung to every curve, reflecting the light like a glossy second skin as it was already lubed. The front dipped low in a daring scoop neck that barely contained the full breasts of the female drones, nipples clearly visible beneath the stretchy, skin-tight fabric. Tiny cap sleeves held up the top, leaving the most of the drones’ shoulders and arms bare. The back was cut away in a deep V, exposing a tantalising amount of skin down to the small of the spine.

The bottom half of the garment ended in a provocative high-cut boy short style, with shiny black sport leggings encasing their long, toned legs. The glossy material clung to every curve, emphasising the athletic lines of their calves and thighs. Sleek black high-top latex-impregnated canvas sneakers completed the look, blurring the lines between fetish wear and athletic gear.

The only adornment was the Jajo corporate logo and slogan emblazoned in white across the girls’ breasts, marking these drones as property of the company they served so obediently.

“Looks like Jajo is here, too” Alex said, raising an eyebrow.

Jordan scoffed. “Yeah, like we need another distraction.”

As they approached the booth, a blond, well-endowed, and utterly cute young woman handed them each a pair of the headphones. “Try them out!” she said. “They’re guaranteed to help you focus and relieve stress.” Her smiling, freckled face glowed with an inner pleasure and good will. She was genuinely happy to be here, talking to Alex and Jordan, and that feeling, communicated in her body language, helped the pair trust her.

Alex was handed a demonstration pair of headphones, and inspected it critically. A fine tracing of silver wires in a complex circuit traced the underside of the latex band. Somehow, the headphones had already adapted to her body — like holding a jello shot exactly at her body temperature. Even heavy in her hand, they almost faded from tactile notice, save for the most minute vibration. She looked, critically, at the ear cups. She had experienced problems with discomfort from drivers built into other devices before, but all she could see was a rounded latex bulge that looked like it would conform to her ear canal.

Creepy.

Still, worth a try, right?

The drone cleaned the demo latex headphones down with an alcohol wipe before handing each of them a pair. Alex and Jordan exchanged a sceptical glance, but they put on the headphones regardless. The woman pressed a button on her phone, and suddenly, the noise of the campus quad faded away for the pair.

Jordan felt a little knot of tension, held all day in the back of his neck, suddenly released.

As Alex dropped the cans over her ears, there was a moment of alien disquiet as the almost flesh-like latex gel fit itself into her ears. Then, as it faded from sensation, she felt free. The latex gel pods quivered as they shaped themselves to her head, ensuring a perfect fit — and, more importantly, optimum contact for the built-in circuits.

Her head was full of a susurration of static, faint noises outside of her hearing. It must have been the headphones calibrating to the outside world; after only a few moments, she knew she wouldn’t hear anything except her own heartbeat. Her brain obeyed, and the silence was golden.

“Wow,” Alex said, her voice sounding distant and muffled. “That’s actually kind of nice.” Alex ran her fingers over the body-warm surface of the latex, smirking as the fluid inside sloshed from capsule to capsule. It was almost as fun as playing with bubble wrap. Her hands dropped, and she forgot what she was playing with. It wasn’t relevant.

Jordan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is.”

The girl smiled. “See? And that’s just the beginning. Our headphones use state-of-the-art technology to help you focus and relieve stress. You’ll be able to study for hours without feeling overwhelmed.”

Alex and Jordan exchanged another glance, this one more thoughtful. Maybe there was something to these headphones after all.

“How much do they cost?” Jordan asked. His eyes traced her freckles down the side of her neck. The sales-drone’s shoulders glistened with a subtle oil, and it was so easy for his gaze to fall between her large, beautiful, round, breasts. His eyes jerked up, guiltily, back into her happy, knowing, cute, smile as she responded. Alex stood quietly, the awkward pause in conversation passing her awareness by. Jordan couldn’t help but notice that Alex’s nipples had started poking through her shirt.

The sales-drone’s smile widened, her freckles shifting cutely. “They’re free! We’re giving them away as part of our product launch. All we ask is that you fill out a short survey about your experience with them.”

Alex and Jordan looked at each other, then back at the woman.

Alex spoke first, “Sure,” as she obediently followed the hints from the pair she was wearing.

Jordan quickly followed up with a, “Why not?”

The remarkably pretty girl in the tight, shiny unitard directed them to a QR code. “Just install the app, and you’ll be free!”

The app had the usual downloading hoops, EULA click-through blah blah, and Bluetooth pairing games that made a mockery of the “internet of things.” But even here, the app’s installation was shiny — not to fret: a “seamless Jajo user experience,” promised one banner on the wall.

Alex shook her head in disorientation as she took the demo pair of headphones off her head. The sound of the students outside felt sharper and harsher somehow. Everything was just a little more damp and sticky.

Her discomfort was brief, however, as the sales-drone fitted new pairs of the latex headphones to both of them, with an extra large smile to Jordan. “Thanks for choosing Jajo! We’ll take it from here!” A tiny blue indicator lit on the bottom of their devices.

The two philosophy postgrads shared a heartfelt eye roll over the head of the short blond sales-drone who couldn’t stop spouting slogans.

As they walked away from the booth, each wearing their “forever pair” (yeah, right) of the shiny latex headphones, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Maybe these headphones really could help them with their stress and anxiety. Maybe they really could turn all their worries off. As he looked back, he noticed one of the other drones, bottle and cloth in hand, re-polishing the latex of the sales-drone the pair of them had just spoken to. This was a normal thing to happen on a university campus, right? He adjusted his pants, briefly awkward.

Jordan nibbled on a fingernail. Where was the snake-oil here? What was the hook? No one would just give away something this wonderful for free, right? He glanced over at his friend wearing her new accessory. She was smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her smile.

Alex and Jordan, now back at their respective desks in the department’s open-plan office, examined their new Jajo headphones. They admired the sleek design and the shiny latex material, it seemed apt that this new wonder-product wasn’t made from the same dreary old injection moulded plastics of every other tech device. Even the brief walk over suggested that these new devices could truly change their lives. In this age of in-ear earbuds, the large Jajo headphones were comfortable and snug, enveloping them in quiet, focused, bliss.

Alex was furiously slamming keys on her keyboard, working up a last-minute presentation for a department seminar the next day. The building’s lousy AC wasn’t keeping up with the humidity and everything, including her shirt, was sticky and awful.

As they settled into their work, the app on their phones started to run quietly in the background. The noise of the office faded away, replaced by a soothing soundscape that seemed to melt away their stress and anxiety. They both felt a progressive relaxation seeping through their bodies, allowing them to focus more intently on their writing.

Alex blinked. An hour had passed, and her presentation was done. Someone was saying something. She took her Jajo headphones off and her sense of the world returned, along with an irritation at how gross her bra straps felt and at the interruption to her flow state. Jordan was at her cubicle wall with a glass of water.

“Thanks.” Coldly.

Jordan looked down, his expression resembling a kicked puppy, albeit one still sneaking glances at her shirt—— he thought he was subtle. The irritation of the world washed over her in waves, and she frowned at how Jordan was still wearing his Jajo headphones.

“Can you hear me through those?”

“Yeah!” Jordan smiled, “It’s on the app! I had to enable something, but I don’t need to take them off to talk to you!”

Alex put her Jajo headphones back on, the shiny latex band reflected in her monitor. The world felt better. She found the option, and then looked back at Jordan. “Thanks. That’s much better.”

They both blinked in unison, exchanged a brief nod, and Jordan went back to his work.

After a while, a notification popped up on their screens: “The End-User License Agreement has been updated, please read it carefully before accepting. Your choices may matter.” Without giving it much thought, they both clicked “accept,” eager to continue experiencing the relief and focus the headphones provided.

Alex lounged on her couch in an oversized and well-worn men’s t-shirt, a “loan” (never returned) from her last-but-one ex, and some nice soft panties. The day was spent and, she paused in consideration, it was an actually OK day, even if her chapter wasn’t done and there was too much grading to do. She played with the latex bubbles on her Jajo headphones idly. If nothing else, they made a great fidget toy.

Time to watch some mindless TV.

She prodded her phone and once again looked at the Jajo app. It was one of those modern ones, all sleek, with actual useful things buried five screens deep. Still, at the top was “Pair with TV.” Good. The app was intuitive and user-friendly, belying the complex algorithms she thought that must have been at work behind the scenes. She knew that the headphones were too comfy to take off for something as irrelevant as TV.

The app paired, the TV booted, then the streaming app booted. She chose her current mindless-binge series and frowned as a pre-roll played. What was the point of paying for a service when they still advertised to you? It’s not like she could afford double-plus extra gooder no-advertisements-we-mean-it-probably tier.

Oh, at least the ad was for the Jajo corporation! Her nipples tented her t-shirt as she settled in, flicking through social media on her phone while waiting for her show to start.

“Jajo is a local Sydney startup! We’ve just exited stealth-mode, and our hive is dedicated to bringing the latest in high-tech mental influence technology to students and workers across the city!” The camera panned across an office where all the workers were wearing Jajo headphones, where all the workers were beautiful and above average. The camera lingered briefly on their serene and focused faces, capturing the very picture of productive, corporate, bliss.

“Jajo stands for hands-free stress relief, anxiety management, and focus-on-demand with our proprietary patent pending neural entrainment technologies.” The voiceover turned sultry as it mentioned neural entrainment, substituting sex-appeal for explanation. An animation of someone’s brain, with the oversimplified red of stress fading to a blue of calm. “We are a force multiplier for your focus.”

Alex’s hand crept under her shirt and started rubbing slow, lazy, circles on her stomach. It was nice to be touched.

“While our leading competitors rely on clunky, uncomfortable headsets or temporary effects from simple meditation apps, Jajo’s innovative solution allows the app itself to take control. Invasive brain-computer interfaces require risky surgery and constant updates, while fabric headbands and wearables provide only short-lived benefits.”

The commercial displayed the usual clichéd black and white frustrations of an anxious tech-bro throwing down a wireless EEG monitor in a tangle of wires, and frowning at the camera. A quick cut to a sweaty (and oh so hot) gym scene, where two girls are running on treadmills. (And oh, how their latex-encased breasts bounced.) The black and white view on the first shows her earbuds falling out with a look of despair, while the cognitive dissonance resolves to the second, running at a steady and aggressive pace, wearing her Jajo headphones. She looks up and smiles for the camera.

“Only Jajo offers seamless, stylish, and sustained mental enhancement through our proprietary neural entrainment technology. Unlock your full potential with Jajo — the key to mental optimisation!”

The tingling warmth of arousal caught Alex as surprised as her gently rubbing hand had crept ever lower throughout the lovely ad. Alex considered turning off the TV briefly for some personal time, but was so tired and mentally drained that it was just easier to sit here and let the TV play. Calm. Passive. Pretty. Obedient. She was like those workers in the office.

“Take control of your stress. Take control of your focus. Jajo.”

Alex had taken control, with Jajo, and she was pleased that the decision had been made for her. She didn’t need to notice the dampness in her panties at all now. Maybe she’d get her chapter done, if the app told her to do it. She snickered, yawned, and forgot the ad as she settled in to watch her show.

Jordan forced himself through his evening ablutions, chapter outlines bouncing and sputtering through his head. He knew, from the jittery exhaustion filling him, that it’d be a real fight to get to some low-quality sleep.

The traffic noise and the streetlights were full of Jordan’s regret, the price of a day with way too much caffeine. He was right. He couldn’t sleep.

Jordan lay in bed, tossing and turning as his mind raced with thoughts of his unfinished essay and the looming deadline. The stress of his academic life weighed heavily on him, making it impossible to find sleep. In desperation, Jordan reached for his Jajo headphones, hoping they would provide some relief from his racing thoughts. He put them on and connected them to his phone, eager to escape the chaos of his mind.

The gel-filled chambers of the latex band were smooth, conformant, and comforting. It bound his head in a stress-free bubble, smushing up against the pillow and yielding to softness. The noise of the world faded at his touch. His phone’s screen, in “night mode” (for all the good it did). His irritation faded as the headphones in their tight, pliant, latex band filled his attention with their relaxing white noise.

This was a good feeling. He still wasn’t sleepy, but at least he wasn’t angry with his crappy student apartment. The small indicator at the bottom of the headphones flashed blue, blue, red. The strange material inside the headphones flowed over and behind his ears, and slightly into his ear canal. The headphones were in enhanced focus mode.

A thought occurred to him — it was time to browse the app. He would be happy to browse the app and let it relax him. He would obey.

Jordan blinked, then ignored the odd intrusive thought. This unit didn’t need to pay attention to it.

As he browsed the app, Jordan discovered a new feature: a collection of “relaxation videos.” Intrigued, he scrolled through the options and found one labelled “JOI 1.” The thumbnail was of that student on campus earlier, the hot, cute, freckled, blond girl that had given Alex and himself their headphones. His dick stiffened in pleasurable memory of her utterly indecent uniform.

There was no way they put that in the app. The app stores went crazy over that sort of thing. He had to know. The fact that he was horny had no influence on his decision-making at all. His thoughts skipped around like beads of water on a hot pan. Alex was so pretty, and the way her shirt stuck in the humidity was — Jordan felt guilty even thinking of his colleague this way, but his erection contradicted his moral inclinations. He felt like an asshole. He had to distract himself.

Jordan clicked. There was another wall of text. He skimmed it in a half-awake, half-horny daze. A header about personal information, skip. A header about consent, skip. A header about obedience, skip. A header about forgetting, skip. The “I accept” button throbbed with a low, lazy pulse. Clicking it was the easiest decision Jordan had made all day. His headphones blinked, blue, red, red.

Jordan was relaxed, content, and calm. His stiff dick told him he was horny. The video was taking a while to load, but that was fine. Thoughts of girls from uni, wearing their Jajo headphones and tight-tight latex Jajo-branded unitards flitted through his head. Alex smiled at him, shirt damp in the humid air. His dick throbbed for attention. He would accept his programming.

The video loaded. The girl on camera was the cute sales-drone (he kept thinking that pejorative description) from uni! He had no clue why she was doing basic student-marketing work if she was producing erotic content on the side. It was supposed to pay super-well. His thoughts bounced back to the video in front of him.

The freckled, blond, big-breasted sales-drone was wearing a custom form-fitting white latex t-shirt and virtually painted on black sport leggings. It didn’t look like she had panties on. Of course, she was adorned with her own latex Jajo headphones, as all must be. The latex gel spheres of the headphones shone in the girl’s apartment lighting. It seemed that she had set up her phone to record in her bedroom. Her nipples poked through the latex, and her puffy labia distorted the crotch of her leggings.

His dick throbbed again, but he didn’t move: he hadn’t been told to. He accepted this choice. Resistance faded with his stress and anxiety: outmoded and irrelevant.

She cupped her breasts, her t-shirt pulling tight across her body. The apartment lights played across the shiny, reflective fabric. A quiet background track hummed in his ears: low, gentle beats to wank to.

Jordan twitched as the no-longer subtle carrier wave modulated his thoughts, but did not move.

The model caressed her body, slowly, gently, highlighting her perfect curves and her obvious arousal. She traced her erect nipples over the white latex.

The camera focused on her freckled face, framed cutely with her hair up. She licked her lips. Her headphones were flat against her head, entirely covering her ears, isolating her thoughts from the horrible world.

She was so sexy, winking at him.

Jordan imagined the drone’s headphones sending tendrils deep into her skull, making her an obedient drone of the Jajo corporation. A rush of arousal suffused his body. The light on the drone’s headphones flashed green, red, green.

Jordan imagined the drone’s voice from today, mindlessly echoing Jajo slogans. Maybe all that was in her mind right now were the slogans she was shouting. Hopefully, her body was just remote-controlled by Jajo through her headphones.

Jordan took a deep shuddering breath, unconsciously forced from his own arousal at the thought.

“Good boy.” Her face, with simple and natural makeup that certainly took hours to apply, decided to smile. “You’ve waited this long, and now we’re ready to begin.” Jordan’s dick throbbed again with the need to be touched. Jordan didn’t move.

“Here at Jajo, our choices matter. You have chosen to be a Good Boy. Tonight, you don’t need to choose anything else.” The model started slipping out of her shiny fetishised parody of a t-shirt, the stiff, rubbery, fabric stretching and reflecting. Her young heavy breasts free, then obscured, then free. The Jajo marketing slogan distorting in fascinating ways.

“Now, gently run your fingers along the edge of the headphones, feeling each bubble of latex against your skin,” her smooth Australian voice instructed, and Jordan obeyed, his fingers tracing the curve of the headphones as he focused on the sensation. The latex squeaked slightly and deformed under his fingers as he rubbed it. Jordan was comfortable and horny: by order.

His ears were full, suddenly. There was a primal tactile awareness of the headphones binding his head, covering his ears, isolating him. The gel inside the headphones a perfect negative of each ear, stuffed deep inside his head. Sparks of static electricity felt like they were crawling over his head. It was wrong. There was an overwhelming scream of static. It was —

“Forget your thoughts, your worries. Tonight, there is only the pleasure of obedience. I want you to place your hand on your cock.” Jordan complied, his prior thoughts immediately forgotten, “I will take you on a journey to my pleasure. My pleasure is your pleasure. Jajo’s commands are our pleasure.”

It was obedience and bliss. The stress binding his muscles up day over day was gone. The product was worth the payment. He was the product, his will the payment. His hand rubbed his dick without his intention, helplessly obedient to the instructions from the Jajo headphones.

She continued undressing, “Follow my hand and stroke when it moves.” Slowly, gently, her hand moved up and down once. Jordan’s followed. He shuddered as the instructions allowed him pleasure.

“Good boy.” Stroke. Another. All the tension, all the unrequited and un-allowed horniness of the day, was concentrated in his cock. It was bearable only by this girl’s command.

The video continued, affirmations of obedience, praise, and instructions flowing over Jordan in an irresistible tide. The sales-drone slowly oiled herself up, blissful in her own submission to Jajo’s will. Jordan stroked himself in helpless synchronicity, his mind emptying of all thoughts beyond pleasing his new mistress and the corporation that owned him. Layers of subliminal programming laying themselves down, crafting the future. The focal point of the camera remained on her headphones.

“Cum for me now, my good boy,” the drone purred. “Cum and surrender. Cum and obey.”

Jordan’s orgasm crashed through him, his cock spurting as the last of his resistance shattered. He collapsed back onto the bed, spent and smiling. The phone slipped from his fingers, the drone’s voice still echoing in his mind.

Relaxed. Happy. Obedient.

By Jajo’s command.

Alex, in her own bed, smiled. She was wearing her Jajo headphones and had drifted off to sleep with the lights low and something forgettable playing on her podcast app. Her hand found its way into her panties. Every so often, on order Jajo corporation, she rubbed herself. Her dreams were full of pleasure and absent any resistance. The coffee she had consumed and the stress of her dissertation had no dominion here. It was the best sleep she had had in at least a year.

The headphones pumped unsensed static into her brain, blinking blue, blue, blue, gently in the dark room. The circuits in contact with her hair and skull read, refined, and edited. It was early days yet, and this one was already responding correctly.

The black, shiny, wonderful, latex headphones provided by Jajo corporation cradled her head, body-temperature, gel comfortable even in sleep. When she woke up, there was a large damp spot on her sheets, and a broad smile on her face.