The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The week in Virginia had been productive; we made the changes that our client wanted with time to spare, so I caught an earlier flight home than I had expected. It was raining in San Jose, and the drive up 880 was slick and gray. I got wet just bolting from the car to the front door of our house.

“I’m home,” I called, closing the door behind me. There was no answer; I sighed. Emily was surely over at Lord May’s with the Painted Ladies. Of course, then I thought about Tracy. And her offer. I hadn’t mentioned it to Emily, but I realized that now was the time. We needed to talk about Tracy, about Lord May, about what Emily was doing with her life. I was afraid this new life she had gotten into would consume her, possibly for years. Did she really want that?

Did I?

I drifted into the kitchen for a creme soda when I heard something from the bedroom. Listening, it didn’t come again, so I fetched my soda, took a swig, and walked back to the bedroom to have a look. As I entered the doorway, my eyes widened.

Emily was lying on our bed, totally nude, legs slightly splayed. My breath quickened, as it always did when I saw her circuitry. The smooth straight lines streaking her inner thighs, branching out across her belly, darkening her labia with a crosshatching of black ink. I had a good view between her legs as I entered the bedroom, and could feel myself instantly start to get hard.

She had given no sign that she noticed me entering the room, and was staring blankly at the ceiling, arms limp on the bed at her sides. One of her hands was resting on her controller, and as I slowly approached where she lay naked, her finger pushed a button and she shivered. I understood the real reason she had asked that I leave it behind when I went on my trip.

Her lips were moving. I realized that she was totally unaware of anything, gaze locked on the white ceiling, eyes unfocused and glassy. As I reached the edge of the bed, I saw that she had on a set of headphones. A CD player was whirring softly just under a pillow near her head. She was repeating something to herself, over and over, too soft to hear.

I leaned on the bed. No reaction. Emily kept talking to herself.

I waved my hand in front of her face. Nothing. She was totally entranced.

Then she twitched again. She must have pushed the button once more. It hadn’t interrupted whatever she was saying to herself—I leaned over to hear her, putting my ear near her mouth.

“Obedience is good. Obedience is good. Obedience is good. Obedience is good...” she was whispering.

Then she pushed the button, and rewarded herself with a jolt of pleasure. She never stopped the mantra.

I looked at her pussy, and saw that the bed under it was soaked. She had been doing this for hours. A glistening trickle emerged from her untouched slit and connected it to the wet patch beneath. Emily kept chanting.

Oh Lord. My fears came back to me—was she doing this because she wanted to, or because Lord May had told her to? What was she getting into? And what could I do about it? I looked down at my wife, training herself into obedience, and didn’t know what to do. What she was doing scared me more than anything.

And I was so, so turned on by it.

Then she stopped her chanting. I watched as her finger slowly slid the plastic control into the pain area. Her eyes never focused, never came back. Her mouth hung there, slightly open under her glazed-over eyes.

She started the whispering again. I bent over to hear.

“Thinking is bad. Thinking is bad. Thinking is bad. Thinking is bad...”

She pushed the button, and jerked as the pain shot through her. The mantra was broken by her soft cry of pain, but she resumed it to exactly the same beat as before. The beat being fed to her through the headphones she wore.

I went back to the kitchen.

I hadn’t talked to her about it. I’d gone out, to a bookstore cafe, and came back when I would have if I had been on my scheduled flight. Emily kissed me at the door, like she always did. She mentioned nothing about her afternoon.

Neither did I.

Before I could confront her, before I could talk to her about what she was doing, what she wanted, I had to know what I wanted. And I didn’t. So I said nothing.

She was cooking dinner and I was stewing in the living room, television on but ignored, when the doorbell rang.

I answered the door.

It was Tracy and Rebecca. They were barefoot, in shaggy bathrobes. Instantly I knew how much they were wearing underneath.

“Um, yeah?” I asked.

“Hi,” Tracy said, “We’re here to fuck your wife.”

“You, too, if you like,” added Rebecca.

“Yeah,” Tracy said. “We’d love to fuck you both. Can we come inside?”

“I...” I stared at them. “Hold on,” I replied. I closed the door to the point where it was shut but not latched. I closed my eyes and swallowed. Tracy was at my door, asking to fuck me. Asking me to fuck her. I knew I couldn’t say no, didn’t have the will to say no. Emily was in the kitchen.

She smiled at me as I came into the kitchen. “Who is it, love?” she asked.

“It’s Tracy and Rebecca,” I replied. She stopped smiling. “They want to... they want to come in.”

“Is that all they want?” she asked. “Just to visit?”

“No,” I replied. “They want to have sex with us.”

“How did they say that?” asked Emily, oddly. I raised an eyebrow.

“Um, Tracy said ‘we’re here to fuck your wife’,” I replied.

“Oh,” Emily said. She sighed slightly, then smiled. “You had better let them in, then,” she told me.

“You want to do this?” I asked.

“I would really like to be fucked by them,” Emily replied. It sounded false, scripted. I had lived with Emily for years—I knew what her moods sounded like. I looked at her.

“Now,” she added, staring at me.

“Do you really want me to have them come in?” I asked again.

“Yes,” she said. “We are going to have sex. We would also really like you to participate,” she added.

I ran my hand through my hair. “What if I told you that you can’t do this? That I won’t let you?”

She blinked at me. “Then,” she said slowly, “I wouldn’t, of course. But don’t you want to fuck Tracy?” She looked at me. “And me? At the same time?”

“I...” I trailed off.

“Answer the door,” Emily said.

I went back to the door, pulled it open, opened my mouth to say something. I wish I could have said it was ‘no’. Not that it mattered...

Tracy was standing at the door, entirely naked. Rebecca was holding her robe. She stared at me with her expressionless, catlike face that turned me on so much, and I looked up and down her naked body.

Her ink was gold. I had not realized that before, but it was true—she was printed with light gold circuitry, almost hidden by her tan skin but now reflecting in the light from the open door. She was a goddess, wrapped in fine gold wire, and she wanted me...

“Please let us in, Tom,” she said. “I need you. Need your wife. We want to make love to you.” She licked her lips, her glistening tongue on her shiny lips, and I was lost. “Please?”

“Come on in,” I said.

“Nice house,” Tracy observed, slinking through the living room. “It’s got the same floorplan as Lord May’s?”

It took me a moment to realize it was a question—Tracy’s manner was so comfortable, so in command, that I hadn’t considered she had never been here before. She was walking naked through my house as comfortably as though it was her own. It was hard not to stare at her smooth ass.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Not as well decorated though.”

She laughed, and stopped to look into the kitchen. I stopped as well, and then Rebecca pressed herself into me and slid a hand over my shoulder and down my chest.

“Lord May’s tastes are very... orderly,” Tracy said from the kitchen. “Your house has a great deal more charm.” When she walked back out, she had Emily by the wrist. My wife looked at me just a moment, making Rebecca’s stroking hand hot on my chest, and dropped her eyes. Rebecca licked my ear.

“Where is the bedroom, Emily?” Tracy asked.

Emily replied without looking up, in a voice so low I couldn’t hear it. Tracy pulled her off towards the bedroom. I followed, but was distracted by a noise behind me.

Rebecca had slid her robe off, and stood naked with it puddled around her feet.

“Tom,” she said, “you are going to enjoy this—enjoy us—so much.” She took a step from her robe towards me, and paused. “Emily loves being like us,” she said, and the thought of Emily being like Rebecca—just like Rebecca—painted, robotic, part of a set, sent a thrill through me. Her circuitry was identical to Emily’s, but their bodies were different the way all women’s are, Rebecca being fuller in the hips, rounder, with a broader mons beneath which her labia (reflecting in black ink the same light which reflected just slightly differently from her flesh) just showed between her legs.

I was staring at her crotch, I realized, but she took another step forward, and another, and tilted my head up to kiss me on the lips. It lingered, and my thoughts flashed to Tanya and Emily in the bedroom, but Rebecca broke the kiss and whispered “Stare at me all you want, Tom. I’m property, I’m an object, I’m yours to use however you want. I have no shame.” She licked my cheek. “And neither does Emily. She wants this, Tom. Wants to be just like me. You have to help her.”

I could think of nothing to say. My cock was raging, bulging against my sweatpants. Rebecca slid her hand around it.

“The bedroom,” she said, and pulled me towards the back of the house by my dick.

Tracy was just inside the door, naked, idly running one finger between her legs. She was watching Emily, who stood next to the bed, facing her. Her clothes were in a small pile, next to the wall. Somehow, even standing between Tracy, so demandingly erotic, and Rebecca, so wanton and available, I could love how beautiful my wife was naked. But all her personality seemed to be in her face, somehow—her crotch, hairless and covered in identical circuitry, seemed impersonal, captured. It had been someone’s, but it was now in a cage painted onto it, no different than its peers, merely another former individual now owned by the lines. A moment ago I had looked at Rebecca’s pussy and appreciated how different women were—now I looked at Emily’s and could only see how it had been stamped with subservient equality.

Tracy looked over her shoulder and smiled at me, then turned back to Emily. “Here,” she said, sidling around the bed to where Emily stood, hands at her sides. “I have something for you.” I could see the tension in Emily—she wanted this, wanted to do this, but part of her was still fighting it. She didn’t look at me.

Rebecca ran her hand across my chest again. “You’re going to love this, Tom. Just watch.”

Tracy held out a headset to Emily. It looked like a set of earphones, only for someone with four ears, two on the sides of their forehead and two behind where their actual ears are. Emily took it.

“Put it on,” Tracy said.

It was a command, and I could see Emily’s immediate, unthinking move to obey. Her hand rose on its own, but then slowed, and I could see Emily looking at the device.

“What does it do?” she asked.

“It turns off your thoughts,” Tracy said. “Put it on.”

Again, the command, and Emily raised it to her head, and raised her other hand to steady it and slide it on. She hesitated.

Rebecca was pushing into me, rubbing herself against me. Her breasts traced electric circles on my back.

Device poised, Emily looked at Tracy. I could see she wanted reassurance, wanted Tracy to tell her it was okay, it was safe, it would be fun. Tracy smiled her feline smile. I stiffened.

“Put it on.”

Emily’s hands lowered the headset onto her head, and dropped to her side. She watched her hands drop with a look almost of surprise.

Then she exhaled, with a soft grunt. Her face took on a look of concentration, as though she was thinking hard about something, which slowly began to fade. Her head started to tilt slightly, and her eyes drifted out of focus. Her mouth opened just a bit as her face gradually lost all expression.

Then Emily was just standing there, mouth open, looking into space, lost in whatever the four pads pressed against her skull were doing to her mind.

Tracy turned to face us. “There,” she said, and there was a powerful light in her eyes, “no more Emily. That headset has completely blunted her thinking. She will do whatever she is told, totally unable to think about it. Her body already responds, you see. It knows that obedience is pleasure. And her thoughts are being completely smoothed out by the device.”

She smiled a naughty grin. “We can do anything. Anything at all. She won’t even think about what she is doing, just obey. Tom, lover, is there anything you want to do to your beautiful wife that you never have? Taken her up the ass? Dipped your cock in me, then her, then me again?”

Tracy sauntered towards me, naked, her golden circuitry visible as her hips swayed with her walk. She licked her lips. “Emily,” she said, without looking over her shoulder, “ask Tom to fuck me.”

“Tom,” Emily said in a flat voice, “please fuck Tracy.”

“Tell him that you want him to fuck me.”

“I want you to fuck her, Tom,” came Emily’s voice, so familiar yet dead, saying things I couldn’t imagine her saying. But wanted her to say.

Tracy reached me, and ran a hand along my stomach. Rebecca’s hands were pulling at my shirt, lifting it, and I then it was off, over my head. Tracy licked my chest, pushed her naked body against me.

“We’re all yours, Tom,” Rebecca whispered into my ear.

Tracy stared hungrily into my eyes, then turned from me and walked to the bed.

She crawled onto it, still facing away from me, pushed her ass into the air, and spread her legs. Her pussy glistened gold, the color of her circuits, and was already wet.

“Rebecca,” she said, looking over her shoulder, “why don’t you play with Emily for a while?” She looked at me, smiling, and said “Emily, ask Tom to fuck me again, and mean it. Don’t stop until he’s fucking me.”

“Tom, said Emily, “please fuck Tracy. I want you to fuck Tracy. Please fuck her. Fuck Tracy...”

It was like a dream, Tracy staring back at me hungrily over her own lewdly spread pussy, my wife intoning her desire to have me sink my cock into Tracy. I pulled off my sweatpants.

I got onto the bed—our bed, Emily and my bed—behind Tracy. I took hold of her hips, pulled myself up to her. I was hard as iron. My cock slid along her lips, pushed up against them, pressed against her belly. I looked at Emily, standing there, a few feet away. Her face was blank, mindless. Her lips were moving, unconnected with the rest of her, urging me to push my meat into Tracy’s eager pussy. Rebecca stood next to her, caressing her, one hand slithering across her belly and breasts, the other slowly sliding up and down the front of Emily’s pussy. Obedient, unthinking Emily. God, it was hot. My cock pushed hard against Tracy’s belly, and she groaned.

“Rebecca,” she gasped, “get on your knees and tongue Emily’s pussy. Suck on it. Tonguefuck it.”

With a low rumble of anticipation, Rebecca dropped to her knees, and buried her face in Emily’s crotch.

“Please,” Tracy said, looking over her shoulder at me, “fuck me.”

I looked down at her ass, her golden circuitry ringing her asshole and streaming out of her spread crack up her back, her golden disk a reflective lump just above. I renewed my grip, and slowly shoved myself into her.

She groaned, and through clenched teeth said “Oh, yes...”

I started moving, fucking her. Suddenly, I realized that I was fucking Tracy—Tracy, that so-beautiful feline temptress. I was sunk all the way into her wet pussy. Buried in her. The thought alone almost made me cum, and I had to stop for a moment just to control myself.

“Harder, Tom, harder. Fuck me like an animal. Gods, you feel so good.” Tracy grunted as I began to grind myself into her, slowly, ignoring her request for speed. She moaned as I gripped her hips harder, forcing myself into her as far as possible.

“E-e-emily,” she gasped, “c-come here... lie in front of me so I c-can eat your p-pussy...”

My cock lurched again, and I had to fight for control as my wife, glassy-eyed, left Rebecca and crawled onto the bed. She reached the pillows and turned over, staring dully at the ceiling, and spread her legs wide. Then she slid forward a bit until Tracy’s ragged breath was warming her pussy.

“Gods,” said Tracy, “I’m between the two of you... Gods... Fuckme FUCKME!” she cried, then buried her face in Emily’s pussy. Emily’s breath accelerated, but the pads clenched tight against her head kept her face slack and expressionless.

Watching her, Tracy’s head bobbing between her legs, her circuits reaching up her belly and down her spread thighs beyond, I finally lost control, and began cumming into Tracy, still pushing myself into her, clutching at her hips. She felt it, and began to make tiny gasps as she came herself, pussy clutching at my spasming cock.

I slumped over her, not pulling out, and with a last whimper, she went back to work on Emily’s pussy.

Rebecca pushed up against me from behind. “That looked like fun,” she said. “I really hope I’m next.” Rebecca pulled me back, my cock slipping out of Tracy’s pussy and eliciting another gasp from around my wife’s slit. Emily was breathing hard, now, and her brows were furrowing and releasing above her unfocused eyes as she approached climax.

“Hands on her ass,” Rebecca whispered into my ear, and guided my hands onto Tracy’s ass, leaning me on it. “Good. Now just stay right there.”

She dropped onto the bed, rolled face up, and slid her head between my legs. My cock, drippingly wet with Tracy’s juice and my own cum, dangled above her, and she leaned her head up to suck it into her mouth. Using one hand to prop up her head, she sucked and licked at my cock, stopping occasionally to take a swipe with her tongue at Tracy’s cunt, inches away, always causing Tracy to squeak and stiffen when she did.

I was hard again in no time, and Rebecca slid out from underneath and pulled me aside just as Emily came, bucking against Tracy’s face and moaning the moan I so loved to hear.

“Don’t fret,” Rebecca said, sliding up next to Emily’s entranced form and spreading her own legs so that her left leg entwined with Emily’s right. “She’ll get her turn.” She grinned, beckoning at me with one hand and sliding the other into herself, then drawing a moist line up her stomach. “But for now...”

“Emily, tell Tom to fuck me. And don’t stop until he does.”

“Tom,” said Emily, in a breathless voice, Tracy’s head only now sliding up from her crotch to lick at her breasts, “please fuck Rebecca. I want you to fuck Rebecca. Fuck her.”

I looked at Emily, eyes dull, unthinking above her moving lips, Tracy suckling on one of her breasts.

“Please, Tom,” she said, “Fuck Rebecca.”

I complied.

Tracy and Rebecca stood at the door, once more in their robes. The whole house smelled of sex. I was exhausted.

Emily was at my side, the strange headphones still on, naked, her whole body still glistening with spit and other juices. She stared ahead, dully.

“She actually can’t think, can she?” I asked.

“No. Not at all,” replied Tracy. “It will take a few minutes for her mind to turn back on, too.”

“Thanks so much, Tom,” Rebecca said. “We’ll have to do this again.”

“Emily,” Tracy said, “take off the headphones.”

Emily did so, lifting them off, and letting them hang in her hand. Her face didn’t change. Tracy took the headphones from her.

“We have to get back to Lord May’s,” she said. “I really enjoyed being fucked by you, Tom.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but could think of nothing to say. Smiling lewdly at me, she opened the door, and then the two of them were gone into the night. I looked at Emily, standing there, mouth slightly open, and closed the door.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s get you to bed.”

Some time later, we were both in bed; I had changed the sheets, and was reading by the bedside table lamp. Emily was next to me, nude, but wrapped in her white down comforter.

She had lain on the bed, eyes open, unmoving, for some time after I put her to bed. Then she had dozed off.

Somehow, I managed to interest myself in the book I was reading (Bleak House), but that evaporated at once when I heard Emily speak my name. Putting the book aside, I turned to find her smiling gently at me.

“I’m back,” she said, before I could speak. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Emily,” I said, “was it... all right? Was that what you wanted?”

She smiled at me. “It was better than all right,” she said, “it was fucking fabulous. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten off so much in my life.”

“Do you remember it all?”

“Sort of. It’s like a dream, when I have those headphones on. It’s all soft and blurry, but I can remember telling you to fuck Tracy, and watching you mount her from behind, while I was urging you to... it was hot. And Rebecca was doing such nice things to me... and later, I was doing them to her...”

“You didn’t used to like women, you know.”

“Well,” Emily said, smiling, “I’ve had my horizons broadened. God, the things they know how to do with their tongues. There’s so much I need them to teach me. So much for me to learn.”

It still bothered me, though Emily’s obvious wholehearted enjoyment of the evening was calming me down. I suppose it was no stranger than the whole business of the circuits to begin with. Looking down, Emily was covered with the big white comforter, but I could picture the black lines that decorated her, gripped her, quite clearly in my mind’s eye. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I would have gotten aroused again.

“So you didn’t mind me making love to another woman?”

“To Tracy? You weren’t making love to her, you were fucking her. And no, it didn’t bother me at all. Screw whichever of the painted ladies you like, as long as you ask first. I know that none of it is going to your heart.”

She kissed me.

It was true. As much as I lusted for Tracy, my love for Emily had not diminished one whit. She put her head on my shoulder, and I held her. Everything was fine. This was what she wanted, after all.

I didn’t bring up the day I got home early.