The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Well,” Lord May said, “I trust my little ‘gift’ meets with your satisfaction?”

He was seated on the deep green futon in his living room, crutches leaning on the armrest. There was a new wall scroll hanging behind him, a very traditional Chinese landscape in brushstroke and watercolor. Emily was at work, but I had taken a day off to work around the house. We were embarking on a new project at work, and I knew that I’d be busy for the next several months.

Lord May had called while I was in overalls, dappled in spackle, and I figured I needed a break. So I took him up on his offer of tea.

I was surprised when the door was not answered by Holly, but by a very attractive Asian woman in a silk robe. She said nothing, but smiled and let me in—Lord May was already seated on the futon, reading. As he put his book down, I recognized it as Hobbes’ Leviathan.

“It’s, ah, really something,” I replied. “Emily’s really enjoying it.”

“Emily only?”

“Oh,” I said with a smile, “I am too. Are you sure we can’t repay you somehow?”

“Absolutely not,” May replied. “good neighbors do things for each other. Think of it as a cup of sugar.”

A clink of china announced the arrival of the tea, carried in on a tray by the Asian woman who had answered the door. She presented the tray to me, and I took a cup, and then to Lord May.

“This is Miko,” he said, nodding as he took his cup.

“Hello, Miko,” I said, but she only smiled at me and inclined her head, then went to stand behind the futon Lord May was sitting on.

“Well, it was almost a whole day of work on your part,” I said, trying to prod Lord May into revealing what, if anything, he really wanted.

“Then think of it as my helping you move. As you can tell,” he waved at his legs with one hand while sipping tea with the other, “I’m not precisely well endowed for that sort of work. Besides—Emily’s ink was not so hard. Allow me to show you some real work.”

He put his cup and saucer down on the rosewood table. “Miko, show Tom here your ink.”

I thought about protesting as she walked back around the futon, but didn’t. Miko smiled demurely, stopped in front of me, unbelted her robe, and pushed it back off of her shoulders.

My first thought was that I hadn’t realized the ink came in different colors. My second thought was sheer amazement.

Miko’s whole body, neck to wrists to ankles, was enmeshed in blue circuitry. She looked like someone was projecting an image of an integrated circuit onto her, but the lines were traced into her skin, curving along her hips, her belly, her breasts. Her nipples were ink blue, major connectors in the pattern of lines covering her body. She turned, and I saw the shiny blue knob adhered at the base of her spine.

“Now Miko,” Lord May said, “was rather a bit of effort.”

“I... can appreciate that,” I said quietly. Facing away from me, Miko bent to retrieve her robe, and I had a sudden flash of Emily as Miko’s blue labia pushed into view between her legs. “How long did, ah, she take?”

“Actually, I only finished her yesterday.” Lord May chuckled. “Perhaps not ‘finished’, but completed the latest phase. Miko is only visiting, you see... when her firm sends her to the Bay Area, she comes to me for more ink.”

“I see.” Miko had donned her robe again, and stood facing Lord May. Now that I knew, I could just see blue traceries at her wrists and ankles. “So how many girls have you inked, anyways?”

“Tell me,” May said, stroking Miko’s hand and ignoring my question, “do you think it true, that Asian women are naturally submissive?”

I thought of Jen Thom in tech support. “No,” I replied, “actually I don’t.”

May smiled, and let Miko’s hand drop. She turned to walk around the futon, but on her way by, stopped and kissed my forehead. Surprised, I watched her walk into the kitchen.

“Please, Tom,” Lord May said, “your tea is getting cold.”

I took it with me everywhere, of course. I was more worried about losing that little plastic box than I was of losing my car. Silly—the battery pack and transmitter weren’t that hard to take off. But still...

I thought about it every ten minutes. Looked at it every hour. But I only slid the sliders and pushed the button once a day. Maybe twice. Didn’t want to get her in trouble at work. And, well, I didn’t know.

Didn’t know how often she wanted it.

Or what she wanted.

Next week, things were calm enough at work that I came home early. I met Emily walking home from BART.

“Hi love,” she said, “you’re home early.”

“Sure am,” I replied. “How are you?”

“Oh,” she sighed, tiredly, “I’m okay now that I’m home. I’ll tell you, that place is a nightmare.” She chuckled, and leered at me. “The only thing that I enjoy all day are those moments when you turn me on.”

I wasn’t sure whether to commiserate about the work or to talk about the control, but then she said:

“But...”

“But?” I asked.

“Tom, it’s not enough. You’re being way too nice about it. I want to you zap me four times an hour if you feel like it. Hell, sometimes you even call first.” She looked at me. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d be more tactful, but Tom... I want to dance on your strings. You have to use me. Make sure I’m in my place, cumming at your command. And...”

“And?” I asked, a moment later.

“I want you to hurt me.”

“What?” I stared at her as we turned the corner and the condo came into view.

“I want you to use the pain on me.”

“But...”

“Please? You haven’t done it once.” She saw the look on my face, and smiled. “I want you to, Tom. I’ll make it easy. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to walk in the front door, you’re going to take out my control, you’re going to set it to ‘pain’, and you’re going to zap me. Understand?”

“Geez,” I said, unlocking the door, “I thought I was controlling you.”

“The circuits are controlling me,” she replied. “and I want you to use them all. Hurt me, Tom. Now.”

“Well, I—”

Emily pushed past me through the open door, then turned to face me, planting her hands on her hips.

“Do it, bitch,” she said.

“Huh?” I closed the door behind me.

She sneered at me. “Want me to make it easier, you prick? Cocksucker. Come on, hurt me. Be a man. Make me your bitch—have me writhing on the floor. I want it.”

I raised my eyebrow, and pulled her controller from my pocket.

“That’s it, you fuck. Hurt me.” She curled her lip, gestured at me. “Fucker. Put me down.”

I slid the knob to pain, and slid the intensity up.

“Ooh, that’s gonna sting. Do it, bitch. Prick. Zap me and make me—”

I hit it. She mewled, a low drawn-out cry, and slumped to the floor, sobbing softly.

“Hunh. Hunh.” She was on her knees, tears running down her cheeks. “T-Tom.”

“I’m so sorry, Emily. I didn’t know it would—”

“Do it again.”

“What?”

“Harder.” She spread her legs a bit, dropped her head, braced her arms against the floor, tears still squeezing from her eyes. “Hurt me.”

I slid the intensity knob up. My finger hovered over the button.

“Tom?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Call me a bitch, and push the button.”

I blinked, but the look in her eyes was electric, demanding. I swallowed, then hardened my expression.

“Bitch,” I said. “Take this.” I pushed the button.

She shrieked and collapsed to the carpet, writhing and gasping, crying. Her eyes were flooding with tears. “Oh,” she gasped, “oh. That felt... so...” She whimpered a bit, folding into a fetal position, hands across her chest.

“Good,” she said at last, quietly, lying curled on the floor.

Emily quit her job. We both knew she wanted to, had been planning to, but it made me uneasy that she quit just now. Because of her sex life. Because of Lord May.

We talked about it, of course. With my stock options on top of my salary, there was really no need for her to work. And she hated it. But the fact that our getting involved with Lord May came at just the same time as she could really afford to quit was a coincidence didn’t silence the little voices of doubt in my mind.

Of course, I was in too deep already. It had been weeks, and all I had to do was think of Emily’s excitement about what she’d turned into, about tracing my fingertip along one of her circuits, and my breathing quickened. Yeah, I was loving it too.

Although not as much as Emily. She had taken to hanging out at Lord May’s during the day, going over for tea, shopping with the girls. I knew Holly, and Rebecca, and Miko, and that was it—Emily was now close friends with a half dozen of Lord May’s Painted Women. They liked to call themselves that. It was their exclusive club. And Emily spent most of her time with them.

She’d had her ink re-done. Three month’s worth, this time.

“Tom,” Emily asked in that subdued tone of voice she had taken to using when talking about that new side of her life, “Lord May did something to Rebecca today... and,” she licked her lips, “I want... I want you to do it to me.”

“Emily, I worry that you are spending too much time over there.”

“You aren’t worried that I’m... cheating on you?”

“Of course not, Emily. But, I don’t know, you just seem to spend so much time on this thing.”

She smiled derisively. “Honey, look at me.” She undid her belt, and dropped her skirt to the floor. There was nothing underneath, and her naked crotch was covered in the dense tracery of the skin circuitry. “It’s not like I haven’t jumped in already. I just want to know what’s possible. I feel like I’m waking up to a new life, new possibilities, and I want to explore them. And being at Lord May’s is the only way to do that.”

I sighed. She didn’t know just how much it all turned me on, too. I couldn’t stop her going because I didn’t want her to stop going. “So what was it that Rebecca did today?”

“Not what she did, what Lord May did to her. Hold on.” Emily kicked her skirt away from around her ankles, and fetched her controller from the shelf. I watched her ass, the black lines emerging from the cleft highlighting the slight roll of her ass as she walked. The black button gripping the base of her spine. She turned around, and smiled when she saw where I was looking.

She handed me her controller. “Now, I’m going to stand in the middle of the room. Set the delay switch to none, and put it on low intensity pleasure.” Wearing her white shirt, with nothing beneath, she stood in the center of the room. Legs slightly akimbo, she faced me, and smiled, her eyes hungry.

“Okay, tell me to do something. And when I do it, hit the button.”

“Um, like what?”

“Raise my arm, something like that.”

“Okay,” I said, “Step forward with your right leg.” She did so, and I hit the button.

She moaned in satisfaction, smiled, and slid her leg back. “Again,” she said.

“Step forward, right leg,” I said—she did, and I hit the button.

“Again.”

We did this for about ten minutes—my breath sharpened (as it always did) when I saw the glistening that had spread across Emily’s pussy form into a drop, which broke free and began to trickle down one leg.

“Okay,” she said, flushed, now, I’m going to not move. Tell me to do it, but don’t use the control.

“Sure,” I said. “Step forward with your right leg.”

Her right leg twitched forward, jerking about half a step forward.

“Oh,” Emily breathed, “I didn’t do that.”

I thought I knew where she was going, but I asked “what do you mean?”

“I didn’t move my leg. At least, not with my conscious mind.” She looked down at her leg, slid forward on the carpet. “I just responded to your command unconsciously.”

“Pavlov,” I said.

“Yeah. Only... it felt good, too.”

“But I didn’t hit the controller.”

“Doesn’t matter—the nerves already associate doing that action when you tell me to with pleasure. It’s like they anticipate it—it’s not as strong as when you actually zap me, but it’s still good. An echo of pleasure...”

“Emily,” I said, serious, “are you sure you want to do this? I mean, programming yourself to do things... It sounds risky.”

“God, Tom, it sounds fucking hot. I want to do what I am told, without thinking about it. To be a little sex robot. Doesn’t it turn you on?”

“Yeah, but—”

Emily looked at me fiercely, hungrily. “I want it, Tom. It feels so good. And I trust you not to abuse me or anything. It’s only you that can do it, if it’s only you that trains me.”

“And Lord May?” I asked.

“What about him? He’s got Holly, and Rebecca... God, Rebecca was having such pleasure....” Her left hand slid down to her crotch, and she slid a finger up and down her slit. “Program me, Tom. Use my circuits to make me dance.” Her eyes glowed. “And fuck.”

I smiled, crookedly. “If that’s how you want it... lift up your shirt.”

“Huh?” she asked.

I flipped the switch to pain, and hit the button. She jerked. She opened her mouth to say something, but saw the look on my face.

“Lift up your shirt,” I repeated.

She looked at me, but just before I hit the button she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up. She was going to take it off, but I said “just so that I can see your breasts. Good. Let it go.”

As the shirt dropped, I flipped the switch to pleasure, and hit the button. It wasn’t very intense—Emily just closed her eyes and breathed in hard.

“Okay. Lift up your shirt,” I said. Emily complied, looking at me, and I zapped her, a bit more intensity. She moaned, and let the shirt go.

An hour later, we were still in the living room.

“Present,” I said.

Naked, standing in the middle of the room, Emily faced away from me, bent at the waist, arched her back, and put her hands on her knees.

It was a view I had always loved, but with the circuits embracing her crotch and that shiny black button adhered to her lower back like some sort of mind-controlling black beetle... I had to take off my pants some time ago.

“Return,” I said, and Emily stood up and turned back around. The inside of both legs had a long streak of wet. She was pink in the face, panting.

I slid the intensity up a bit.

“Present,” I said, and watched her turn and bend obediently. My finger stretched for the button, when she fell to the carpet all on her own. On her hands and knees, she moaned out a powerful orgasm. Her whole body quivered.

I almost came myself, but instead smirked, and asked “Did I tell you that you could stop?”

“Tom, oh, oh, Tom, I couldn’t help myself, I just started cumming and cumming... oh, Tom, fuck me. Take me into the bedroom and fuck my brains out. Do it here, on the floor. I don’t care. Just fuck me. And while you’re fucking me...” She looked over her shoulder, eager, desperate.

“Command me.”

It had been months since we had gone clubbing, but Emily’s new art really brought out the naughty side in her. Several of Lord May’s girls were headed for Club Extremis in the city, and had convinced Emily to come along. And Emily had convinced me.

I was in black leather, unsurprisingly. We’d been to Club Extremis about a year and a half ago, and it was largely the PVC/leather crowd, with a goodly admixture of college youth-gone-wild sorts. I decked myself out in tight black pants, a black rubber tank top, and a black leather vest. I worked out every weekday, and although my abs didn’t quite ripple, I had a pretty damn good body. And I looked good in black.

But we both knew that Emily was going to be the eye candy. I mean, first off, girls always are. And secondly...

She was in thigh-high black PVC boots, with heels that could have doubled as knitting needles. On top, she wore a skin-tight clingy pink belly shirt, which announced “Drone” across the front in black letters. And she had a tiny black PVC bikini bottom.

That was it.

Her circuitry was in full view, and it was obvious where it centered. The lines slid down under the PVC bikini bottom in a manner so suggestive it was almost obscene. No one who met Emily tonight was going to look at her face first. The orderly lines decorating her hips and lower belly were just too enticing. The eye was pulled along them directly to her sex.

“Ready to take your little sex-bot dancing?” she asked, twirling in front of me as I laced up my boots.

“You know it, babe. God, you do look sexy.”

“Mmmm, I know. And... then there’s this.” Emily took the little black plastic battery pack out of a drawer, and began squeezing adhesive onto it from a tube.

“You’re going wired?” I asked. “But I can’t take along the controller, not like this.”

“I’m putting myself on manual, dear. Look, this is a different one.”

Sure enough, this one was larger, though still round, and had a sliding tab around the top, one around the bottom, and a flat black button in the middle.

“But, Emily, anyone could hit that and set you off.”

She looked at me wickedly. “I know. Anyone could. Just push my button, and watch me jerk.” She finished putting the adhesive on, and turned her ass to the mirror. “You’ll keep an eye on me, right?” She pressed the black circle against her lower back, and held it while the adhesive bonded.

“I dunno, Emily, it seems risky. I mean, what if it just keeps getting hit?”

“Oh, this one has a five minute recharge time, and a pretty small battery. I don’t think it’ll exhaust me. It better not—I’ll be needing a lot of attention from you when I get home. She turned to present me with the big plastic button just above her ass. “Do me,” she said.

I slid the switches, and hit the button.

“Oh God, here it comes—this one only has a HNNNNNNAAAaaaahh oh oh oh” she threw her head back, panting, “an oh lord ten second warm-up time.”

She curled her neck around, head down, and then flung her hair towards the ceiling, her eyes snapping back open. “Oh, yeah,” she said. I could feel my prick straining against my leather pants just sitting there behind her, her round black battery adhered just atop her ass, black circuitry radiating out and especially down her smooth pale skin. Eyes looking dreamily at the ceiling, she shifted her hips around.

I thought, hesitated, and realized that she wouldn’t care. I grabbed her ass.

“Mmm,” she said, looking over her shoulder at me, pushing her ass into my cupping hands. “It’s all yours, baby.” She pushed back harder, my hands giving way, and sat down in my lap. “Oh, my,” she said, noticing what was already in my lap, “that’s nice. You just keep that until we get home, though.” She ground herself into me, and slipped her tongue into my mouth.

The doorbell rang. “It’s the girls,” she said, standing up and dancing her way to the door. I knew that she would never be like this on her own, but with the rest of the girls she could be naughty and still feel safe.

That’s why I had to come, too. If I was there to take out her lusts (doubled and redoubled since she’d gotten inked) on, then she didn’t have to worry about doing someone she’d regret.

I heard them at the front door, and stood up. The bulge in my pants was unmissable, but there was nothing to do about that now. Besides, it was part of the effect, wasn’t it? I went to check my hair in the bedroom mirror.

“Ooh, yummy,” came a sultry voice from the bedroom door.

I turned around to see a gorgeous woman with shoulder-length black hair leaning on the doorframe. Her face could only be described as ‘catlike’—her mouth and jaw came forward under a set of dark, narrow eyes. She was very different from Emily, but also very much one of my types.

“Mmm,” she said, and I realized she was staring at my crotch, “Maybe we should just stay here. Does Emily share?”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. She tossed her hair and laughed, her voice so low it sounded like a purr.

“I’m supposed to come fetch you. And that’s exactly what I want to do—grab you and take you away with me.” She turned her head, looked behind her at the front door, looked back at me with her smoldering eyes. “But we have a ball to attend. So come along.”

I smiled my crooked smile, and saw the corners of her mouth turn up just a bit.

“I’m Tom,” I said, approaching her.

“Tanya,” she replied.

I reached the doorway, but Tanya just keep looking at me, hungrily.

“Shall we go?” I asked.

“If we must.”

She followed me to the front door. Outside was a black limousine, the door open. I heard Emily’s voice come from inside it. Tanya stalked past me, and folded herself inside as I closed and locked the door.

The limo was warm inside. Emily was in the middle of the back seat, a redhead I didn’t know on one side of her, and the olive-skinned Holly on the other side. I sat on the side seat, facing the door. Tanya sat facing backwards. The girls on the back seat were giggling.

Holly was in a tight white belly shirt and some sort of wrap for a skirt. She was liberally decorated in glowsticks and bangles. The redhead was in a blue-green plastic one-piece, with a zipper all the way up the front; it ended midway down her thighs, and the way she was sitting gave me a clear view of her green underwear and the black traceries of her circuitry along her inner thighs.

The limo started, and pulled away from the curb.

“Tom,” said Emily, leaning forward, “This is Rebecca.” The redhead smiled at me—and spread her legs wider. Emily didn’t seem to notice. “Holly you already know.”

“Hi, Tom!” Holly said. “We’re so glad you could come.”

“Thanks, Holly. Hello, Rebecca.”

“Hello, Tom.”

“And that’s Tracy,” Emily finished.

I looked at Tracy, who smiled. God, she was pretty. “We met,” I said.

“Hey, you two match,” Emily observed.

It was true. Tracy was in a black leather miniskirt and black bustier. We looked like a pair of goth pin-ups.

“So we do,” said Tracy. “And Tom looks incredible. But everyone’s going to be looking at you, Emily. That outfit is... mind-blowing.”

Emily beamed. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Are you wearing it?”

Emily’s smile grew conspiratorial. “Unh-hunh.” She turned in her seat, revealing the black plastic button at the base of her spine.

Rebecca and Holly cooed. “You’re going to have so much fun, Emily.”

“Are you all...” I asked?

Rebecca and Holly looked at each other across Emily’s back, then at the same time turned to show me their backs. Holly’s button was just the same as Emily’s, in the middle of a weave of black circuitry on her lower back, the top of the button just showing above her wrap.

Rebecca pushed her sea green plastic dress against her back with her hands. “You can’t see mine,” she said, “but if you’d like to push it?...”

My glance flickered to Emily, who was looking at Rebecca’s plastic covered back. Then she looked at me, and saw I was looking at her. She gave the tiniest of nods.

I reached for the bump just above Rebecca’s ass, surrounded by her hands. My finger extended, paused.

“So, what’s this going to do to you?” I asked.

“Find out,” she said, and closed her eyes, waiting.

The biggest problem with a rubber shirt is the sweat. We had only been at club Extremis for a few hours, and I felt like I was in a wetsuit. The water was literally a constant trickle down my arms and legs.

Club Extremis was packed, literally wall-to-wall people. There had been a huge crowd outside, but when we pulled up in the limo, the driver spoke to the bouncers, and they held back the crowd as I and the girls just walked inside. Not for the first time, I wondered who Lord May was, and why he was living next to us in suburbia.

Everything was fantastic. The DJ, enshrined at one end of the main floor, was stellar, dropping intense techno that had you in its grip the moment you walked in the door. I felt like a movie star as I walked in with four hot, barely dressed women, but the crowd inside barely noticed.

I danced with Emily for about half an hour, if you can really call it that. The place was so close with people it was really more like rubbing yourself together rhythmically, and staying with one partner was almost impossible. Holly and Tracy had sensuously started circulating around the dance floor almost immediately, but Rebecca (who had jolted and whined in the car, cumming so hard her legs gave way and she slumped to the seat. The rest of the way, the green panties which she gave me such a clear view of were soaked with her juices) stuck with Emily and me for a while, slithering against first her, then me, then her again.

Holly slithered back after a while, and gave us all some E. After that, I became much more relaxed, and pretty soon was dancing with all sorts of gorgeous people I didn’t know, boys, girls... It was fantastic.

Just as we expected, though, Emily was the center of attraction. Everyone wanted to touch her lines, and hands were sliding smoothly along her ass more often than they weren’t. I happened to see her present herself to a black girl one time, the two of them rubbing against each other, the black girl darting in for a quick kiss. Emily licked her lips for her, and then led the girl’s hand down her back to the button.

Then she turned, and slowly gyrated her ass, holding the girl’s finger on the button, until she pressed it. Emily jerked, crying “oh! oh! oh!", and wobbled. I could see from her wide eyes that the girl was totally surprised. Then her face turned into a sensuous smile, and she pulled Emily close for another kiss.

I had gotten my share of kisses, too, but I was overheating, and I couldn’t tell if the flashes of light were from the E or from incipient heatstroke, so I made my way to the bar. It was in a different room, and much less crowded. I ordered a fruit juice cocktail.

A hand ran itself along my shoulder, down my back, and around to my stomach, its owner pressing herself against me. I looked around.

It was Tanya.

I started to say something, but she put a finger on my lips. She leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Any time,” she said. “Any where.” She licked my ear, and pulled away.

“Buy a girl a drink?” she asked in a louder voice.

“Whatever you like,” I replied. She was so gorgeous, and the E gave her a sort of luminescence, like she was standing in front of a light.

“Grey goose,” she said to the bartender. “On the rocks.” He nodded.

“We’re going to have to go soon,” she said to me.

“We are?”

“Yeah. Lord May needs the limo tomorrow, and James will have to clean it out, first.”

“Oh.”

“Emily is incredibly hot,” she said. It was hard to keep up with her sudden changes of subject—my wit had vanished.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “She sure is.”

“You’re quite lucky, to get to fuck her whenever you want.”

“All the time,” I replied.

She smiled at me. “Very lucky, indeed.” The bartender brought her drink, and mine. I gave him a twenty, and waved away the change.

“You’re all sweaty,” she observed.

“I am. It’s the rubber shirt.”

“So take it off.”

I looked at her.

“Take it off. I mean, look around. Everyone is half naked.”

It was true enough. I had removed my vest a long time ago. I chuckled, and took hold of the bottom of the shirt. Girls liked it when you lift your shirt off from the bottom, I remembered, fuzzily. I pulled it off, and it came off like a banana peel, totally lubricated from the sweat. Water ran down my pants.

Tanya’s narrow, dark eyes widened. She ran a hand across my chest, rubbing me. Then she pushed her face into my stomach and slid it up. Half her face shone with my sweat as she looked into my eyes.

“Any time,” she said again. “If you want to fuck me here on the bar, I’m yours. If you want me in the limo, I’m yours. If you want to bend me over in the flower garden, I’m yours.” She was breathing heavily. “Rebecca too, you know. She’s as desperate for your cock as I am.”

“I...” I stumbled, “Emily...”

“Oh, we want to fuck her too,” she said. “But we’re not going to force you.” Her face came close to mine, closer, and then she was kissing me, her tongue slipping into my mouth, and I thought that my prick would burst from my pants right there.

But she finished, and my pants held. Tracy looked at me, her eyes back to normal, dark, enigmatic.

“Think about it,” she said. “I’ve got to round everyone up. It’s time to go.”