The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Many years had gone by since the last time Stefanie Reyes had the chance to enjoy some well-deserved holidays. Not that she was a workaholic or anything of the sort, but the truth is, as Vice-President of a major British company specialized in bionic implants, she was always too busy making sure everything worked smoothly whilst the big man upstairs sat idly in his comfy chair, counting the profits of each successful contract she ensured. Despite her own personal wealth, her life wasn’t exactly a bed of roses but, even if it were, she was sure to find lots of thorns within it to bleed her dry.

One day, when the pressure had already built inside her to the point of rupture, she finally took action in her own hands and went looking for some fun and rest. Following the suggestions of close friends, she settled upon the beautiful region of Algarve, Portugal, famous for its warm weather, top quality beaches, luxurious golf courses and night life capable of drawing anyone in, even the most shy and timid persons.

She checked in at the Vilalara Thalassa Resort , a spa hotel amidst 10 hectares of tropical vegetation overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. A gorgeous-looking property in the region of Armacao de Pera, it had five pools, a private beach and a Thalassotherapy centre that was just what she needed to unwind and, for a couple of days, she enjoyed it to the fullest, free from all the responsibilities and burdens that came with her professional life.

On a Sunday morning, as she relaxed by a heated pool surrounded by lush gardens, a strikingly beautiful Mediterranean woman with long, dark brown hair, hazelnut eyes and wearing a red bikini approached her and asked:

“Bom dia. Este lugar está ocupado?”

Stefanie raised her sunglasses and looked at her, slightly dumbfounded. Her knowledge of the Portuguese language was quite scarce. Though she had already picked up the meaning of one or two sentences during her stay, she failed to understand what was being inquired.

“Hmmm… do you speak English?” insisted the woman. She had a bit of an accent, but that didn’t prevent the communication from being established.

“Indeed, I do. Hello.”

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I was just wondering if the seat next to yours is taken.”

“Not at all.” answered Stefanie. “I apologise, but I know next to nothing of Portuguese.”

“That’s okay. I’m the one who keeps forgetting that there are more foreigners around here than locals at this time of the year. My name is Diana, by the way.” The Portuguese woman said as she sat.

“Pleased to meet you, Diana. I’m Stefanie.”

“That’s a wonderful name. Is this your first visit to Portugal?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And are you enjoying it so far?”

“It’s been nothing short of wonderful. I just wish we had this kind of weather in the UK.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been there once for about a week or so and it rained constantly. I missed the sun while I was there.”

“I think I’m going to miss it too when my holidays are over.” said Stefanie, in-between smiles.

The two women kept on talking for a while, clearly enjoying each other’s company and occasionally sharing a couple of glances that could very well suggest certain kinds of desires beginning to stir. Stefanie was bisexual, but if one weighed the attraction she felt for men and women, the tip of the scale would most definitely fall on the feminine side and Diana wasn’t really that different.

After a couple of hours, some shared drinks and a few confidences revealed, Diana offered herself to be her guide around the region and get Stefanie to enjoy all the wonders that opened up when the sun set. The offer was promptly accepted and, not before long, both women were hitting all the major night clubs around the vicinities, checking out the places where the Portuguese jet-set liked to parade themselves and whatnot. They danced, laughed, saw explosions of multihued fireworks in the starry sky and, at least while the party lasted, the late-forties business woman with dyed red hair was positively overjoyed.

Diana’s first true sexual innuendo towards her came about at 4 a.m. when she suggested they went to her place that was just a couple of miles away from where they were.

“I thought you were a guest at the hotel just like me.” Stefanie said, slightly inebriated, but still perfectly capable of walking on her own.

“Not really. You see, my father owns the place and I drop by every once and while to help out with some of the business procedures or simply enjoy myself.” revealed Diana, holding her new friend by the hand as they left the last club of the tour.

“That’s nice. Your place, huh? What do you have in mind?”

“Something I’m sure we’re both going to enjoy…” she teased and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “What do you say?”

Stefanie kissed her back, a bit more passionately.

“I think you’ve just got your answer.”

“Good.”

And so they drove to her house, which was in fact a genuine mansion, as exquisite on the outside as it was on the inside. Marbles were in abundance everywhere, most especially the famous Rosa Portugal, probably the best pink marble in the world and each division was decorated in a luxurious, but hardly excessive way.

The main attraction of the house, though, was in a series of rooms on the upper floor where Diana kept her collections. One of them was entirely devoted to rare stamps, another had panels of rare butterflies decorating the walls and there was even one that, at first sight appeared to contain a series of very valuable paintings, when in fact they were gigantic puzzles that had been assembled and framed in valuable mahogany, creating a unique visual combination that left no living soul indifferent.

“Wow, your collections are truly amazing, Diana. I particularly like this one.” said Stefanie, referring to the puzzle room. “Some of these images are huge! Did you assemble them all by yourself?”

“Yes, a hobby of mine ever since I was a child. I really like this room myself, but there’s an even more spectacular collection down below.”

“Below where?”

Next to the one of puzzles, a 10.000 pieces representation of the The Surrender at Breda by Diego Velázquez with an approximate size of 84 x 62 inches, there was an almost invisible switch that, when pressed, exposed the door of a secret elevator.

“I had a custom room built underground for what I’m about to show you.” said Diana, joyfully waving her lustrous skirt around. “Come along.”

They descended deep into the bowels of the earth, and onto a massive room lit by big halogen lamps and adorned with circular pods of metal and darkened glass, each one of them with an electronic lock in the form of a keyboard featuring geometrical shapes instead of numbers or letters. There were a total of sixty-four, aligned just like the squares of a chess board. Every one of them had a country flag etched in the surface by laborious hands. Beyond the pods, stood a huge titanium door, like the ones usually seen in panic rooms.

“What is this?” asked Stefanie, unsure of what to think.

“This is the resting place of my most prized collection, and also my den of fun.” giggled Diana as she watched Stefanie wander around, sometimes touching the pods and feeling warmth coming in from them, though she couldn’t see what was inside. Most of the flags on display were of European countries. Only a handful of them were the exception. Some in the furthest rows were empty.

“Are you going to show me their contents or not?”

“Of course.” said Diana as she moved in her direction. Stefanie had stopped in front of a pod with the German national flag on it. When the Portuguese woman reached her, she fiddled with a sequence of shapes on the keyboard. The pod whirred as the glass panel rolled and unveiled the secret contents it was meant to protect and preserve.

On the inside, there was a woman dressed in a skin tight rubber catsuit with the colours of her country of origin. She stood very rigid, arms and legs in a military-like posture, and in some sort of advanced stasis. Her eyes were shut, but when Diana pressed yet another combination of symbols, two blue irises opened up in a mechanical fashion and all of her body became alert. Stefanie jumped back, gasping in horror at such a twisted sight.

“This is Ute, my Bavarian pet.” said Diana, now smiling mischievously. “She was one of the first to be added to my collection. And you’re going to become my latest addition very soon.”

“What?!! What are you talking about? What does this mean?” shouted Stefanie. When she turned to face the Portuguese woman, she was already opening up another pod, one with the French flag engraved in it. Almost immediately, another human drone sprung to life within its innards.

“My most prized collection is one of brainwashed sex slaves, my dear! I already have a great number of pods rightfully occupied but, as strange as that may seem I’m still lacking a Brit drudge. Your people visit us on a regular basis, yet I never found a woman I actually wanted to keep until I met you, Stefanie. This is truly a wonderful day!” Diana made a subtle gesture and Ute stepped out of the pod, followed by the French woman whose name was Colette. The two of them started moving towards Stefanie, lifeless zombies clad in rubber and eager to turn her into one of them.

It didn’t take long for Stefanie’s instinct of self-preservation to manifest itself and she started darting towards the elevator in the hope of escaping the nightmare that had just taken over her perception of reality. Meanwhile, Diana jumped from pod to pod, releasing more slaves until she had five of them, all ready to seize the prey.

They did it fast and mercilessly. When Stefanie realized that the elevator door was locked, she ran around in circles until she was finally pinned down next to the titanium door, just the place where Diana wanted her. Completely restrained by the quasi-robotic hands of the rubber servants, she saw the door being opened, and was dragged onto a contraption unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was a strange combination of plastic, metal and resistant fibres, in the shape of an inverted Y. Her head and torso were firmly locked in place by a series of thick shackles whilst her legs were spread wide open. All of her clothes were torn apart by Ute and Colette, until she was completely naked. Then, another servant, a pretty young brunette that had come from Spain, placed some semi-transparent, malleable semi-circumferences on her breasts that were connected to a series of state-of-the-art pumps, and adjusted them nicely. The other two mind-controlled women, a Finnish and a Japanese, got the pumps running and only when she started to feel a swelling pressure exerted at a steady pace, did Stefanie come to realize she had been strapped to some sort of milking machine.

“Let me go, Diana!” she squealed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to provide you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, sweetie. You know, that’s really the best way to take control of someone’s mind and body. An ecstatic overload of sensorial pleasures causes the brain to lose focus and then, well… then that very same brain can be wiped clean and re-written for whatever purpose one sees fit. This machine is just part of the process. The rest is much better, I assure you….”

With a clap, all five pets formed a single file in front of her wide-opened legs, and there was a gleam of satisfaction in their eyes when they saw Stefanie’s exposed sex waiting for them.

“My girls will please you orally below whilst you’re being sucked above….” continued Diana. “You’ll be taken to cloud nine over and over again, until the sexual satisfaction is so immense that you’ll open your entire mind to my programming. That should take a couple of hours. In the meantime, I’m going to take care of getting your new suit done. See you later, my pet!”

“Wait, you can’t just leave me here! Diana! Diaaaannnaaaa!!!”

Her screams did her no good, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed. Forcing the restraints was another failed experiment and the rubber drones didn’t hesitate to do their worst.

Ute was the first to go under, swirling her tongue inside her with skilful precision and giving a whole new meaning to the word Blitzkrieg . Stefanie moaned involuntarily as the pleasure started to build and the pumps fondled and suckled her breasts relentlessly. Colette took her place some minutes later, demonstrating to the full extent why French people are said to be good at kissing anywhere and the whimpers intensified.

It was followed by the fiery Spanish passion. The woman had been a professional Flamenco dancer in her former life, and brought a whole new sense of rhythm to her sensual capitulation. “ Muy caliente , indeed.” Stefanie thought while she was still able to do so. By contrast, the Finnish touch was more cold and methodical, consisting of small titillating explorations designed to slowly build rapture but never really allowing it to fully expand. Stefanie squirmed with each passage, begging for more, for an actual chance of release.

That happened when the Japanese girl came into play and showed her just how much she loved Sushi. At that point, the combination of arousing elements was simply too much to handle and Stefanie screamed in utmost delight. She was still recovering from the orgasmic rush when Ute returned, smiling vacantly, to begin the pleasure circle anew.

Hours passed by rather quickly. Just as predicted, a little before noon, Stefanie sighed one last time as she surrendered body and soul to Diana’s schemes, thus becoming ready to be the next item of her collection.

In the weeks that followed this event, several British newspapers reported her disappearance and many efforts were coordinated with the Portuguese police in order to find her. Up until now, that didn’t happen and most likely never will. Wearing her new shiny catsuit and living inside her pod, Stefanie’s a perfectly obedient toy now and, whenever Diana chooses to have fun with her, the bliss is utterly undeniable

Of the sixty-four chambers in the room, only half a dozen remain without occupants, but that’s a situation to be remedied soon. In the meanwhile, preparations have already begun to expand the division itself, in order to accommodate future servants to be.

After all, every true collector knows that a real collection is one that’s never complete.