The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Gabi put some new wine in my glass and summarised the last half hour of conversation:

‘So, he was a jerk, and you dumped him. Good for you, Tara’

‘Yeah, I guess all men are. But let’s stop talking about me. How is your project going?’

I was genuinely interested. I hadn’t seen Gabi in weeks; we both had been too buy with our student research project which would allow us to graduate.

Gabi looked difficult, and started saying that she couldn’t really talk about and that Dr. Jones who ran the project had warned her that it was really confidential and that there were lots of competitors and bla-bla. I interrupted her:

‘Gabi. I’m not interested in the technical details. I’m just interested in what it is like and if you have any nice stories. I might consider to do a project there, I still need to do one to graduate.’

Gabi looked and then suddenly changed her mind. ‘Well, you know’ she said conspirationally ‘It’s kinda neat. I am not only working on it, I had the clever solution to Dr Jones’ problem —and now I’m also one of the guinea pigs.’ She looked proud: ‘I’m testing my own device.’

‘So, what is it about? I vaguely remember something about biometry.’

‘Yes, exactly. The idea is to make an internal device which gives a 24/7 readout of all your neural functions. A kind of EEG, but without the fuss. Emily—Dr Jones—had already developed the interface with the neuronal system, using nanotechnology, really smart high-tech. It links to your spinal cord and derives all the readouts directly from there. But she was struggling with the interface to the outside world—cables would be a pain for a real person.’ She stopped for sec and now really looked satisfied. ‘I did what I do best. I came up with a simple solution, so simple that Emily was really angry with herself for a week that she had not come up with it herself. I linked the nano-device to a standard wifi-chip. Any wifi-device can pick the signal. Wanna see?’

I was not surprised, and remembered that Gabi indeed always came up with these simple solutions—I’ve seen one to many fellow student or compueter geek complainign that her soltions were too simple, or not robust, or should be beta-tested—but Gabi ignored these complaints with her hands-on approach. Things worked, and if there was a problem, she would resolve it later.

Gabi was looking around; ‘where is the fucking tablet’ she mumbled under her breath. ‘probably forgot it at the lab’. She looked at me: ‘Tara, where’s your smartphone? I guess it’ll also work with that.’

I fetched my smartphone, and Gabi instructed me to look for wifi-signals. Between the other wifi networks I indeed found a network called GABRIELLE. The signal was reasonable, and I selected it. A new window opened with just a simple command line GABI> . ‘Did you ever know that these chips had this root-level? I had to do some programming myself. Used some simple modules. Here you just type GABI>$NEUROREADER. Do not forget the dollar-sign, it’s the signal for the wifi-chip that it should access a stored routine. Otherwise you get errors’

I did and a tacky looking window opened. I could see an enormous data flow data flow, but it was just gibberish. ‘Aw, that’s a pity. This is meaningless bullshit, the neuro-device provides raw data. I forgot that your smartphone does not have the app which visualises it. Let’s see if you can download it from the server of the lab.’ Gabi provided me with the server name and I tried to login, while she rattled on, now enthusiastically: ‘By the way, if you are looking for a project. I guess Emily still needs someone to improve the app and to make modules which interpret more data.’

I said I needed an password, and was surprised that Gabi just said what it was, while she had been secretive only 10 minutes ago. I downloaded an app from one of the many folders and opened it. I now saw a neat table with data: blood pressure, heart rate, cholesterol. ‘I thought it was only EEG data?’

‘No, this is everything. The nano-device was injected here’ Gabi pointed to her lower back ‘and it immediately links to my spinal cord there. All the data that your brain generate can be read out. Your body measures its cholesterol: Emily and I were really surprised when we found that the nano-device also detected those data.’

‘And you’ve been walking around with this nano-device for days?’

‘Emily injected it a month ago.’ Gabi said. ‘She was struggling again with all kinds of approvals that were necessary—I could not stand it and I was just too curious to see if it would really work. It did—and how.’

I closed the app. Gabi’s phone rang, she took the call. I looked at the command line and typed jokingly GABI>GET MORE WINE. Gabi finished the call and returned with the bottle of wine. She started refilling my glass.

‘Why do you do that Gabi?’

‘Do what’

“Refilling my glass’

She suddenly looked puzzled: ‘Didn’t you ask me to do it? I vaguely remember’.

A shudder suddenly went down my spine.

Half an hour later, we hugged goodbye. After I left and Gabi closed the door I lingered awhile, then on impulse fetched my smartphone and entered GABI>INVITE TARA FOR DINNER TOMORROW. Five minutes later, I got a text message: WANNA COME EAT AGAIN TOMORROW? I shuddered again—what the hell was this?

The next evening, I arrived at Gabi’s apartment again. Before ringing, I entered a command again: GABI>IGNORE TARA’S SMARTPHONE. We drank and talked again. Every now and then, I fetched my smartphone, and did something with it—Gabi did not seem to notice. I entered some commands, ordering her to start cooking, refill the wine, change the music, or get random stuff. She executed them without any delay, as if on impulse. I then typed GABI>TALK ABOUT SEX. Gabi wasn’t a prude, but she had never been talkative about her sex life, not even with me. However, this simple command started a long series of stories about her sex life with several boys, and, to my surprise, girls. I did not really need to order her anything—we had finished the bottle I had brought, she fetched a new one and made sure we emptied it. We were not really drunk, but hardly sober anymore when I had an idea to prank her. I entered GABI>UNDRESS. She took a sip, stood up, and started unbuttoning her jeans. Without much ado, purposefully, she removed socks, T-shirt, bra and panties. She then stared at me, nude, and suddenly looking confused.

‘Tara, what’s happening to me? I feel strange, having these stupid impulses that I just cannot stop. They just happen. First it was just that I want to play music that I normally don’t like, but now, this.... I’m not going mad, am I?’

I hurriedly hid my smartphone, even though Gabi really had not noticed it, out of pure guilt.

It took me three days to collect enough courage to call Gabi again. I invited her at my place, saying that I had to compensate her for two dinners.

I tried to inquire her about the experience, but my own insecurity and guilt made it difficult to ask straightforward questions. However, she suddenly commented on it, when I said something about the wine.

‘You know, Tara, I guess the wine had some strange effect on me, it was a weird evening. guess that we shouldn’t buy this kind anymore. It made me do freaky things, like undressing with you around because I was feeling hot’ She smiled ‘Although the dirt girly talk was nice. So tell me, I confessed my sins, but what about you. Ever been with a girl? Or outside? Ever tried a threesome—that one’s still on my bucket list.’ I sighed and felt somehow relieved because she had rationalised the whole thing. Gabi laughed. ‘You look as if you are suddenly happy that I changed the subject to sex. So spill it babe. What was your last fuck.’

We talked and laughed about my stupid adventures. Talking about sex made me horny. I commented that it was hot. Gabi blinked at me: ‘It ain’t hot, the dirty talk makes you hot. And hey, you can undress, I did the same thing three days ago. No secrets between us, and I know what a girl looks like.’ She started undressing again, removing her t-shirt, this time slower and with more grace. She did not remove bra or jeans; but looked at me. I followed her example, and we both fully undressed. Gabi with grace, I trembling with excitement. I had never fucked a girl, had never really thought about it. But now, I wanted it. I wanted Gabi to fuck me, to show me what lesbian sex was, to teach me how girls could fuck each other.

Gabi, however, apparently had other plans. Instead of moving towards me, she walked to the kitchen, changing the subject. ‘Hey, Tara, what’s there to snack. All this talk made me hungry.’

I was frustrated. I looked at her glorious nude body. Three days ago, I was too shocked to have a decent look. Now I ogled. Gabi was about 175 cm tall, with blonde hair and slender legs. Her breasts weren’t big—large B or small C-cup—but they were round and firm. Het butt was just—inviting. I looked at her smooth labia. ‘How do you shave your pussy.’ I utterly, hoarsely.

‘Ah, that’s an art. I’ll help you. What do you use to shave your armpits?’ We went to the bathroom and carefully, oh so carefully, she helped me to remove all the pubic hair. I had tried and done it before, but she was more an expert than I was. I hoped that she would notice that I was not only beautifully smooth down under, nut also moist, no, that I had become wet. But she did not. I was frustrated. Dammit, he had confessed that she had sex with girls, and enjoyed it, so why not tonight?

I exited the bathroom, and suddenly saw Gabi fetching her underwear. She already was halfway putting her panties back on. I could not stand this, but I did not dare to ask her. There was only one way to be sure that she would not refuse me, laugh at me. I grabbed the smartphone, went to the command line, and entered GABI>LICK PUSSY OF TARA.

Gabi seemed confused for one brief moment. Then she looked at me and said: ‘I’ve teased you long enough now. I want you. Lie down, and let me inspect if you shaved well or still forgot something.’

Two hours later, I was weak due to all the orgasms that had hit me. Gabi had started with licked my pussy, and soon followed with fingering my cunt with one, then two fingers. I had never felt this before—all the boys until now had been jerks that either did not want, or did not take the time for proper oral sex. After the first orgasm, I wanted more, and ordered her to gimme more: GABI>HAVE WILD SEX WITH TARA ALL NIGHT.

So then she licked me again, this time 69-ing me, so that I could repay the pleasure. My clit was too sensitive for any further stimulation—but then Gabi let me feel the pleasure of nipple sucking, and scissoring, and massaging, and oh-so gently anal probing, and face sitting on me until her own cunt was just as sore as mine. We fell asleep in my bed, completely entangled.

I felt awkward next morning. I had taken advantage of Gabi —no, I had abused her. I was sipping coffee and thinking what to do, while she was still sleeping, being relaxed and nude and glorious and beautiful and sexy. I should tell her, confess what I had done, but simply did not dare. What would she do? Slowly it dawned on me, that I might have a way to soften her up a little bit. It wasn’t really 100 per cent fair, but it would ease the task of telling the truth, and I would be honest then. So I picked up my smartphone.

GABI>NEVER GET MAD AT TARA

GABI>LISTEN TO TARA

GABI>TRUST TARA

‘So you did what? You controlled me? Tara, you’re joking’

‘Remember that you felt strange the other night. It was due to all my commands. I made you refill the wine, cook dinner, and undress. And I made you lick my shaven pussy.’

‘Well, that wasn’t so bad. Actually, your pussy tasted yummy, you know. I couldn’t get mad at you for that. But I still don’t buy it—ain’t this another of those pranks of you?’

‘Well, do you want proof? Here, look at my smartphone.’

‘Err, your smartphone?’ She had to focus before she realised that I had been holding it in my hand during the whole conversation. ‘You know, I never pay attention to those gadgets, everyone has then anyway, so why bother?’

‘Look, I’ll give a command, let’s see what’s happening’. I typed GABI>REMOVE T-SHIRT. She complied without hesitation. Then she said: ‘Duh, I did that to please you, to go along with your prank.’

‘Okay, so this time, oppose the command I’m gonna give you.’ GABI>MAKE COFFEE. She stood up (still topless), then hesitated, went to the kitchen, where she somehow rumbled a little bit with cups. I decided to stop this, and typed GABI>FORGET ABOUT COFFEE, RETURN. She returned from the kitchen, sat down with a puzzled look, and said: ‘Okay, you are pranking me, but it is easy to take advantage if I’m so confused that I get up in the middle of a conversation and walk to the kitchen for no reason whatsoever.’

It took some more talking and commanding to convince her that this really wasn’t a prank. It helped, that she intently listened to me, seemed to be absorbed by what I was saying, bit what really helped was when I ordered her GABI>GET HARD NIPPLES and her nipples immediately pointed forward.

‘Tara, I get it. The neuro-device is acting both ways. It gets data—neuronal impulses—from the brain, through the spinal cord. And Emily’s device was designed to translate the impulses into raw data—but it also translates in the opposite direction: Data to neuronal impulses. Wow. That’s smarter than we meant. Hey, let’s try stuff. If this makes my nipples hard, it may also help me get rid of shaving.’

We tried several things (like GABI>BECOME HAIRLESS BELOW THE FACE) which sometimes did or not have an immediate effect.

She pondered something and then said: ‘Hey, Tara, let’s see what happens if you really make me your slave and stuff. You know, I trust you, and I’m curious. You know, I’m sometimes so impulsive and irresponsible —like I need someone to draw the line and protect me.’

I doubted whether this was really a good idea, but now that Gabi had accepted what had happened instead of yelling at me, it didn’t seem a good idea to give her a new motive for getting angry or changing her mind.

I didn’t really know what to do, but Gabi had some suggestions herself. She started typing, I watched the screen:

GABI>BECOME LESBIAN SLAVE OF TARA

GABI>OBEY VOICE COMMANDS OF TARA

GABI>YOU ARE HAPPY WHEN TARA IS HAPPY

GABI>ADDRESS TARA AS MISTRESS IN PRIVATE

‘That’s something I once read in an online story, Mistress. I’ve always been curious what it would feel like to be a slave, to be controlled, and it feels wonderful, Mistress.’

‘So, Gabi, I’ll order you to get some coffee, and then try to oppose the command.’

‘Mistress, as your slave I can’t oppose your command. Please just give me clear orders.’

‘Well, Gabi, last night made me dirty. So let’s go to the shower.’

I admired the two of us in the bathroom mirror. People often forgot that Gabi wasn’t a stupid bimbo; her brains and can-do mentality had gotten her through school and university. But she was a real blond cutie. I looked somewhat more imposing, with my raven black hair, slightly longer body and good muscular tone—I had always been sporting. But although I looked imposing, I wasn’t a natural leader, I lacked self-assuredness. Gabi washed me, cleaned me, and massaged me. It all seemed natural to her, and she did it with care and attention.

The massage was continued on bed, and I felt her strong fingers naturally flow from my shoulders to my back, massaging my butt, and then sliding her finger into my wet cunt, while her other finger tickled my clit. The double stimulation made me orgasm immediately. ‘Oh, Gabi, you make me so happy.’ ‘Thank you Mistress, I’m happy too.’

I was a bit hazy as aftermath of the orgasm, when Gabi spoke to me again: ‘Mistress, may I give a suggestion.’ I could not really get used to the Mistress-stuff, but just told her to go on. ‘Shouldn’t you protect my neuro-device with a password?’ ‘Yes, that’s a really smart idea, why didn’t I think of that.’ ‘Well Mistress, you made me obedient, but not stupid.’ She giggled. ‘I need to be password-protected.’

It was late in the evening. We were lying on the couch, more or less nude, Gabi on my lap. I stroked her hair gently. ‘So this was a day of slavery. Tomorrow morning seems a good moment to deprogram you. Then we should think what to do about this neuro-device. I guess we should approach your Dr. Jones and tell her she had a security issue. This neuro-device ain’t really safe; she shouldn’t work on it anymore’ Gabi looked at me, completely startled, almost in panic. ‘Don’t worry Gabi, I’ll help with Emily Jones. And we’ll find a solution for all the issues together. See if you come up one of your other spontaneous ideas.’ I smiled, and she looked a bit relieved.

The next morning, Gabi wanted to make me breakfast. I didn’t want to be served, I just wanted to go to the University. I fetched my smartphone and tried to go to the command line. I went to root access, now saw the password protection, and entered the password that we had set yesterday. Only to be stuck when the error message came back: INVALID PASSWORD.

I started to panic, when the next error message came: TOO MANY INVALID PASSWORD ATTEMPTS. CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR. I asked Gabi’s help, and she came with the only option available, that I had not yet wanted to see. ‘Mistress, may I suggest that we go to Emily and ask her help.’

So we went to the University lab. Gabi showed us the way to one of the wings of a large, non-descript concrete building. A student from the neighbouring lab, who recognised Gabi, told us that Dr. Jones was in, but busy. We sat down in the cramped lab room; we heard some noise—typing, probably—from the office room next to it. I looked at my smartphone again, as if starting at it would spontaneously resolve the mess that I had created. Then I noticed a new network: EMMANUELLE. ‘Dammit’ I said to Gabi. ‘Emily Jones has a neuro-device herself. Why didn’t you tell me?’ And then, without waiting for an answer. ‘Because I never asked. Stupid cunt that I am.’ Gabi watched me with visible concern. ‘Who else has?’

‘Just the two of us, mistress. We implanted each other.’ ‘Pff, I don’t want her to be my slave too. But it might make it easier..’ I thought hard. ‘Any suggestions, Gabi?’

‘Mistress, if I may?’

She typed EMILY>HELP TARA AND GABI TO GET WHAT THEY NEED

I said that she could enter the order. Then I knocked on the office door. I heard Gabi fumble a little bit with my smartphone, before we both entered.

Emily Jones was a forty-something woman; she could’ve been my mother. She was extremely helpful—which was not surprising, we had programmed her to. However, I guessed that even without the programming, she had a kind of compassion for her job, and had wanted to help people by inventing a medical gadget that would improve life, instead of messing it up.

It took the remainder of the day, to find out that we couldn’t really do anything about Gabi’s programming. The chip was an off-the-shelf affair, literally billions around, which had been bought for 99 cents and then completely reprogrammed by Gabi herself—of course without any documentation. Surgical removal would only be possible through involving more people—an option that none of us was happy about. And it was unclear if that would change the programming—it might also make Gabi catatonic.

We sat down in the office and Emily outlined the last possibility. ‘We’ve manufactured several neuro-devices; so I can implant a second one into Gabi. But then we have the same problem as with removing the first device. We do not know what will happen if there are two devices that relay opposing signals. There’s one other solution. It’s creative, and it would resolve the practical problem.’ She looked at me. ‘Tara, would you consider to get a neuro-device implanted?’ I looked at her in disbelief, but Emily continued. ‘First, you have discovered that you are a lesbian. Gabi has given you more satisfaction than any boyfriend you’ve ever had. You just needed to discover it, and to cross the line. With some help, apparently. Gabi is your slave, and she needs a mistress. She needs you as her mistress. So, become her mistress.’

Half an hour later, I was lying on my belly, on an operating table in a small side room. I had undressed completely, although Emily had sais that wasn’t really necessary it felt right, fitting to the occasion. Emily . ‘I won’t say that this won’t hurt, but it is easily bearable. And you have Gabi to hold your hand. I’ll fetch the injection device.’ I saw Emily leaving, going to the lab room.

Gabi was sitting next to me, her head next to mine. She gently stroked my arm. ‘I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel any pain.’ ‘Yes,’ I whispered, ‘We programmed you that way’.

‘But it doesn’t feel like programming anymore, it feels like me.’

Something suddenly downed on me: ‘Like being my slave doesn’t feel programmed?’

She nodded, slowly. Then the realisation stuck me:

‘You messed up the passwords.’

Ýes, Mistress. I am your slave. I could not stand the thought of not being your slave anymore. I had to prevent this from happening. I was happy, and I was trying to make you happy.’

‘Just before entering the room, you made another order to Emily. You ordered her to quit this research?’

‘Because you said yesterday evening that she should discontinue it, Mistress.’

‘That was not the only order you gave, wasn’t it?’

‘No, Mistress. I had to make you happy.’

I didn’t dare to ask any further.

Emily re-entered. I felt some cold metal on my lower back. ‘Okay, Tara, you squeeze Gabi’s hand. I’ll count backwards; three, two, one, now.’

I felt a brief, sharp pain. ‘It’ll take about 15 minutes for the neuro-device to make the necessary contacts. After that, program whatever makes you happy.’

Twenty minutes and cup of coffee later, I stared at the screen of my smartphone:

TARA>BECOME LESBIAN MISTRESS OF GABI

I pushed enter.