The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Faye is a mean drunk. She started knocking back tequila screwdrivers the minute Erik left, and now she’s drinking straight from the bottle, smoking furiously. Gina and Grace are about to eat their dinner, on the floor in the kitchen where they’ve been having all their meals for the last couple of days. They’re not allowed to wear clothes anymore, so they’re in the underwear that Faye bought for them: slinky black stuff devoid of frills or lace. Gina watches as her sister begins to eat, and waits for permission to join her.

“Drink your water first, slave.” Faye puts the bottle of tequila down on the kitchen table and turns a chair around so she can observe. Gina looks at her quizzically, and recognizes instantly that she’s made a mistake. “What are you lookin’ at?” Faye wipes her mouth, weaving as she attempts to sit down.

“Sorry, Miss Faye.” The smell of food makes her stomach growl, but she meekly raises her glass and drinks her water, careful to keep her eyes on Grace.

“I’m sick of the sight of you. Both of you.” Grace looks up at this, but keeps chewing. “If it was up to me, we’d be rid of you by now.” Faye belches and hiccups. “Eating me out of house and home. Are you going to take all night to drink that goddam water?”

“No, Miss Faye.” Gina gulps faster.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three, Miss Faye.” Grace’s plate is already half-clean. Gina has nearly emptied her glass.

“Got a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Miss Faye.”

“How long have you been with him?”

“About eight months.”

“Beg pardon?”

“About eight months, Miss Faye.”

Faye lights up another cigarette. “I’ll bet he’s so sick of your shit. I’ll bet he hasn’t even missed you yet. Do you miss him?”

Gina puts her hand to her forehead and whispers, “Yes, Miss Faye.”

“I’ll bet he dumps you as soon as we let you go, once he finds out you’ve been boinking your sister, my boyfriend and everything else you can get your snatch near.” She takes another swig. “How’s this? How ‘bout I hypnotize you before we cut you loose, make it so you tell him all about how much fucking you been up to this week?” She laughs. The glass slips out of Gina’s fingers and bounces on the linoleum, then rolls under the table. “What’s the matter, slave? Feel a little lightheaded?”

Gina looks at her sister, who calmly regards her. The room starts to spin. “I...”

“Am I boring you? Making you sleepy?” She’s starting to sound like the Wicked Witch of the West to Gina.

“It...” Gina sprawls onto her back, knocking her dinner over.

“Look at that, for cryin’ out loud!” Faye doesn’t get up. “Grace, clean that shit up. No, leave her where she is.”

A sigh breaks loose from Gina as she fades.

So far tonight she’s avoided Faye’s wrath, which is no small feat. Grace dutifully cleans up the mess in the kitchen and even manages to haul Gina up to bed before Faye starts hollering for her from the living room.

“Yes, Miss Faye?” Grace kneels before the couch, out of breath from running down the stairs. The smell of tequila makes her queasy.

“I told you to leave your bitch sister where she lies.”

“Sorry, Miss Faye. I didn’t want her to get hurt.” Grace arches her back, letting Faye get a good look down her bra.

“Don’t try that shit with me, I wrote that book,” Faye says, but she’s talking to Grace’s chest. “You’re not so bad, though. Me ‘n you, we understand each other, don’t we?”

Grace doesn’t know how to answer exactly, but she likes the attention, so she smiles shyly.

“Yeah, you’re all right,” Faye slurs, mussing up her hair. “I don’t mind your sweet ass so much. It’s your goddam sister I don’t like. Even now that she’s Erik’s love zombie, she still acts like she owns the world. Prissy little princess. But you,” Faye slips her hand around the back of Grace’s neck. “You’re quiet. And you got some meat on your bones.” She’s staring at Grace’s hips. ”And you eat pussy like a pro. They teach that in high school now?”

Grace wrinkles up her nose, smiling. “No, Miss Faye.” She likes the way she’s being touched.

“That Anodyne stuff.” Grace doesn’t follow, raises her eyebrows politely. “Those machines we been using on you,” Faye touches Grace’s choker. “Does it make the sex better?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Faye.” It’s Grace’s turn to dip her gaze, skimming over Faye’s flat stomach and navel piercing.

Faye laughs. “I expect it does.” She claps her hands once and sits up. “What say I do you in the ass?” Grace nods eagerly, making her chuckle again. “Allrighty then. Follow me.”

Grace follows at just the right distance so that she can watch Faye’s butt wiggle as they ascend the stairs. By the time they reach the top, she can smell her own excitement. Once in the bedroom, Grace quickly loses her lingerie, puts out her hands and bends over the bed. She knows that there will be no foreplay. Faye digs around in her dresser, then undresses behind Grace. Grace lowers her head, biting her lip in anticipation, then she yelps as Faye slides a lubed finger into her asshole.

“Nice and tight.” Faye smacks her asscheek, making Grace suck in air. “We gotta make sure you’re good and slick.” She slides her finger in and out, running her other fingers around Grace’s crotch, occasionally teasing at her vadge lips. “There we go,” Faye encourages. Then she messes with something Grace can’t see, and her choker starts to tingle. She nearly tumbles onto the bed, so she spreads her feet out further on the carpet to steady herself. “That’s it. We can’t have you growin’ a mind of your own again, can we?”

“No, Miss Faye,” Grace purrs.

“No ma’am. We have to keep you nice and tame, so you don’t put up a fight when we do stuff like this.” Faye has donned her strap-on and slowly pushes into Grace’s ass. Grace sucks in through her teeth as she backs into Faye’s hipbones. Then she relaxes and lets her pull out. And thrust again. This is the first time she’s done anything like this and it feels deliciously naughty. “What if I told you to cum, right now?” Grace squeals at the word because she does just that. Her shaking elbows threaten to dump her on the bed.

Faye turns up whatever’s controlling that choker, then begins her drunken assault in earnest. Grace is hoping that she can start breathing again soon, and she wishes that Erik were here so that she could leap on top of him and ride him for all he was worth.

Faye grabs Grace around the hips for better leverage and easily finds her clit, so Grace has to yell very loudly, which only makes Faye drill her harder and faster. “Who’s Faye’s hot little bitch?” she snarls.

“I am!” Grace affirms.

“Why don’t you cum again, then, huh?” Grace’s body efficiently complies. Faye knocks her arms out from under her and lowers both of them to their knees, and the blood rushes back into Grace’s fingers as she’s furiously rocked against the mattress. She opens her mouth and finally manages to gulp down some air, then she grimaces and takes firm hold of the bed sheets. “Had enough yet?” Faye demands.

“Nmm—” Grace gasps again. “No, Miss Faye!”

“Do you need to cum again?”

“Oh, please, Miss Faye!” Her ass is starting to smart.

Faye’s voice dips an octave. “Well, cum then.”

Grace sounds to herself like she’s being strangled, but she doesn’t care very much about what her mouth is doing, just then. Her nose is running, and there’s snot all over her face and the sheets. Mercifully, Faye removes her implement from Grace’s ass, very slowly. She plops down on the bed and says, “Alright. It’s Faye’s turn.”

When she can move again, Grace begins to do her duty. Faye has just closed her thighs tightly around her head when the bedroom door opens. The next thing she knows, Faye is shoving her away, and she’s tumbling onto her sore ass.

Erik has just walked in, with two very sleepy looking chicks in tow. They’re sweaty -fresh from a rave. Picked right off the tree, apparently.

Faye is taking this in, and Grace knows the look on her face very well by now. She slides backward to cower by the dresser.

“What the fuck is this?” Faye hisses, pointing at the girls.

“Ow.” Gina’s head throbs as she sits up in bed, next to Grace. The sun is up, and she works her neck in the warm light. She slips an errant bra strap up over her shoulder and yawns. Her bladder is requesting attention, and she hopes they come to tell her she can get out of bed soon. Gina looks down at her sleeping sister’s face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. Sensing the gaze, Grace’s eyes flutter open.

“Morning.”

“Looks that way.”

Grace winces, slips a hand under the sheets and feels herself. “Jesus,” she remarks.

“What?”

“My asshole is on fire.”

“Do I want to know?” Gina scratches behind her ear.

“Faye was really drunk. After she knocked you out, she... Omigod!” Grace sits up excitedly like she has some juicy gossip. Gina leans forward expectantly. “Erik brought some girls home with him last night!”

“No...” Gina wonders how much pussy a guy needs.

“Yeah! And they’re cute, too.” Naturally. Gina sighs, throws off the covers and wiggles around Grace. “Hey! Where are you going?” Grace grips Gina’s wrist, horrified.

“Gotta pee.”

“You don’t have permission to do that.”

Gina is scared to be out of bed, but nature calls. “I’ll be sneaky. They’ll never know.” She creeps to the door and opens it a crack, peeping out into the hall. Then she gives Grace the thumbs up and tiptoes down to the bathroom. The door is shut, and the toilet flushes, making her blood freeze. She’ll catch hell if they bust her. Before she can run off, the door opens and she’s face to face with a strange naked girl. She’s young—Grace’s age—and tall. She’s standing in the doorway looking down at Gina, glassy eyed. She’s got really nice tits.

“Hi,” Gina offers quietly.

The girl opens her mouth, frowning. She almost says something, but she looks down the hall to the bedroom, then shuffles off.

“Hope you left the seat down,” Gina mumbles, scratching herself.

Grace is attempting to make breakfast for her sister, who’s very hungry and more than a little bitchy. Hunger eventually won out over obedience as she and her sister waited in bed for permission to rise, so they ducked downstairs as soon as they heard Faye begin her tirade in the master bedroom.

“I know you don’t do this very often, but please scramble faster, Kiddo,” Gina says, twisting the tablecloth with antsy fingers. She begged out of cooking because she says she’s out of sorts from last night, but Grace knows there’s more to it than that, so she bravely forges ahead.

There’s more muffled yelling from upstairs. Faye has arisen, hangover and all, and the shit has hit the fan. Grace imagines the two new slave candidates, kneeling on the carpet, being forced to witness the horrifying spectacle.

She dumps the eggs out onto a plate, pleased with her creation. Whistling, she grabs a couple of forks and sashays over to the table with the goods. Gina brightens at the smell and gives Grace a funny look she’s been seeing ever since the party the other night. It’s a look usually reserved for Seth, and she doesn’t know how she feels about that.

She lets Gina help herself to most of the eggs, then claims the rest. They eat in silence, listening to the chaos overhead, trying to make out what’s being said. Grace feels an odd sense of relief that the fighting is about someone other than her. Or rather, less focused on her and Gina, at least. And she’s glad to see her sister eat. That little game of Faye’s was getting scary.

Scrambled eggs being the extent of Grace’s culinary skills, they raid the pantry for convenience food, then clean up and sneak back to the guest room.

While Gina is nodding off in Grace’s arms, the bedroom door opens down the hall, and voices leap out.

“And I’m telling you, that I’ll do what I want!” Erik is yelling. He sounds past the point of reason, the way people do just before coming to blows, or breaking shit. “If you can’t hang, baby, you know where the door is!”

“This is my house!” Faye is sobbing and spraying venom all at once. It’s a new high point of psycho hysterics, as far as Grace is concerned. She pushes Gina’s head off her chest without thinking, because she’s getting panicky. She sits up very straight in the bed and tries to breathe deeply while Gina blinks and attempts to snuggle up to her, moaning a soft, wordless complaint. “And I will not have you fill it up with a spaced out harem!” Faye screams.

“The house is in my name, Faye!” Erik shoots back. “Paid for with my money!”

There’s the pause that Grace was dreading. She clutches her head with both hands as the anxiety attack arrives in full force. Her only consolation is that Gina knows her so well. Big Sister sits up and starts to calmly deal with her. “Breathe, please,” she murmurs sweetly. Grace tries, but she’s halfway between hyperventilating and vomiting. Either way, she feels she’ll lose.

Faye’s voice drops down to the register that Grace fears most. “Paid for with your father’s money, Erik. Good ol’ Dad. So here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna round up these bitch children and deal with them, and then I’m gonna destroy all these machines. And you’re not gonna say a goddam word about it. Got it?”

Grace hears footsteps in the hall before Erik screams something unintelligible, then evidently breaks something very large in the bedroom. She’s pretty sure she’s going to die now. Gina is still holding her, but they’re both staring at the door in anticipation.

Faye is terrifying to behold. She obviously passed out with her makeup on, and on top of that she’s been crying, so she’s a ghoulish mess. The scariest thing to Grace is the contradiction between the feverish glint in her eyes and her eerie calm. She has a compact but hefty control unit in her hands, and without a word she raises it and punches a few buttons.

Grace is reminded of the choker around her neck by the ugly surge it gives off, but her panic melts away in a cool wash of numbness, and she’s so relieved to be calm again. She’s a creature of habit now, stepping out of bed to kneel down on the carpet next to her sister.

“Come with me, girls,” Faye says, beckoning with a thin, crooked finger.

“Yes, Miss Faye,” she intones along with Gina. They rise and fall into step as they follow her down the hall. She holds out her hand to stop them when they reach Faye’s bedroom, and she ducks inside. Presently they’re joined by a second pair of doe-eyed girls, who turn toward Faye in front of Grace and Gina. Grace recognizes the dark-haired girl on her left as a friend of a friend. She went to another high school, across town.

As the procession resumes its course down the hall, Grace sneaks a look into the bedroom, and sees Erik sitting on the bed with his back to her, head in his hands. She quickly snaps her head forward to stare at the back of Faye’s head, like the others.

One by one, they file into the room with the sheets, and Faye has them kneel against the back wall, behind the chair that Grace knows so well. “Who’s going to be first?” Faye muses, looking at each of them in turn, challenging. Grace looks down at the plastic-covered floor.

“You...” Grace looks up, fascinated, to see that Faye is pointing to the girl she knows, the one from the other high school. Not the tall one. Not Gina. Not her. “Get in the chair.”

The girl reaches up to tug absently at her choker, and regards the chair with the weird helmet hanging from the back. She looks at Faye intently, fighting a silent, inner battle. Finally, she shakes her head. “No...” she declares. Grace stares at her, uncomprehending.

Faye is not in the mood to be disobeyed. She cranks a knob on her control unit and the girl sits up very straight. “Get. In the chair.”

The girl’s watery gaze fascinates Grace. She watches her struggle with an invisible thing in her head before she repeats, “No.”

Faye calms down visibly, looking at the four barely clothed slaves. She seems to reach a conclusion, then with eerie, childish calm says, “Fine.” And twists the knob on her little control box all the way to the right.

The girl makes a loud, choked noise, like she’s trying to ask something but she can’t. Her body jerks spasmodically, then she slams against the wall and slips down sideways, slowly. Awkwardly. She isn’t breathing.

Something rises up within Grace, and she’s dimly aware that under normal circumstances, she would feel differently. That she’d feel something. As things are, she looks away from the dead girl, toward Faye.

“You.” Faye is addressing Gina. “Yes, you. Get in the chair.”

Grace opens her mouth. Closes it. She watches Gina stand up and move to the chair. She wants to say something, but she can’t figure out what.

Gina dutifully seats herself and allows Faye to put the helmet on her head and fasten the straps. Faye looks down at her, savoring the moment. “Want a smoke?” she asks.

“Yes, Miss Faye.”

Faye sticks a cigarette into Gina’s mouth. Lights it. Gina inhales blissfully, and it occurs to Grace that it’s the first smoke her sister has had in at least two days. She calmly takes it out of her mouth and pretends to tap it, silently requesting an ashtray. “Anywhere is fine, dollface,” Faye permits, gracious on the eve of her mortal enemy’s defeat.

Grace sits there watching Gina calmly finish her last cigarette, wondering what the tall girl next to her is thinking. When Gina gets down to the filter, she flicks it across the room, obviously out of habit.

Faye pushes a button, and the machine begins to whine in preparation. She moves a dial all the way to the right.

Gina just watches her. Grace shifts uncomfortably on the plastic.

“Any last words?” Faye asks.

Gina regards her for a moment. “No, Miss Faye.”

There’s a strange sound downstairs, but Grace can’t be bothered with that right now. She even thinks she hears Erik yelling something, and other voices.

Faye seems to hear them, too, but she’s sharing a moment with Gina. She cracks her knuckles, and lowers her hand to a console.

The door bursts open. “Freeze!” Grace is startled to see a man wearing a lot of black armor, carrying a very large rifle, but Faye has already produced a pistol and is aiming it at him.

“Back off, or I fry her!” she snarls, a cat with hackles raised, squaring off against a big dog.

“Drop it!” the man barks.

“Am I not making myself clear, here? Back the fuck off!”

The man and Faye are staring at each other, and Grace is fascinated from her place on the floor. She sees Faye’s index finger move imperceptibly to the console, then she hears a loud noise, sees Faye drop to the floor, ruined, exit wound belching blood. Faye’s eyes meet Grace’s, from down on the floor. Cold.

Fingers quickly remove her choker, and the first thing she does is look up to see Gina, alive and well in the chair. The second thing she does is cry.

Gina wakes up to see Seth again; next to a guy in a suit she doesn’t know. Her boyfriend is grinning like an idiot, which causes her to break out into a dimpled, sleepy smile of her own. “Hey,” she breathes, stirring in the hospital bed.

The man in the suit smiles too. “Looks like she’s coming along nicely.”

Gina is just glad she has real visitors, instead of her therapist, or the nurse or the doctor. Or anyone in white. “Come here...”

Seth leans down and gives her a tight hug, like he’s going to lift her out of her bed. “Mmmm. Kitten...” Then he seems to remember his manners. “Babes, this is Special Agent Maxwell, with the NSA.” He’s acting like he’s just met David Duchovny. “He’s the guy who figured out where you were!”

Gina gives Agent Maxwell a sunny smile. Apparently she’s regained her wattage. “Oh? Do tell.”

The agent seems embarrassed, but he obliges. “Well, ma’am, I’m with a special branch of the NSA. The MCC division, or ‘mind control crimes’. Ever since we shut down the local branch office of Anodyne SA, we’ve been trying to put out all the fires.” He looks out the window, then back to her. “A good deal of their former clients’ equipment went on the black market soon after we shut them down, and your captors obtained the most powerful items available. A few days after you were recaptured, you were forced, if you remember, to perform at a party at the residence where you were being detained.”

Gina looks toward the foot of her bed. Maybe she’s looking forward to the next visit from her therapist after all.

Agent Maxwell senses that she’s uncomfortable, so he keeps talking. “The local police received an anonymous tip from an attendee of that party. It took a day or so for them to contact us, but we were able to locate you soon after.” He pauses to exchange a look with Seth. “You’re probably wondering where you are...”

Gina laughs, causing the two men to brighten with her. “To tell you the truth, Agent, as long as I’m not in that house anymore, I’m a happy girl,” she confides. She sneaks her hand into Seth’s.

Agent Maxwell smiles proudly and indicates the room with a grand sweep of his hand. “You’re at a secret hospital in Virginia. This is our special Recovery Wing.” Gina takes the opportunity to widen her eyes at Seth in response to all the secret agent talk, because she knows he’s digging on it. He just squeezes her fingers as the agent continues. “We’re trying to keep a lid on all this mind control activity. It’s something that’s growing at an alarming rate.” Seth’s grip loosens and he looks at his feet, but Gina quickly takes up the slack. As far as she’s concerned, they’ve already dealt with the freakiness of their own relationship. “By maintaining secrecy, we hope to prevent copy-cat crimes.”

Gina cuts to the chase. “When do I get to go home with this cute boy here?”

The agent gets serious. “Gina. You and your sister have been through a lot.” Gina wonders how her little sister is doing, and when she’ll get to pop down the hall again for a visit. “We can help you recover from the effects of the techniques used on you, but the rest of your healing will take some time.” Gina flashes on Faye, lying in front of Grace. Agent Maxwell tries to lighten things up. “I’d say a few more days of bed rest, though, then you can go home. It was very nice to meet you,” he says, lightly shaking Gina’s hand. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He nods to Seth and makes his exit.

She looks at her boyfriend. “Don’t leave me please,” she begs.

“Shhh.” He brushes her bangs from her forehead. “I brought my toothbrush.”

Grace blinks as the beautiful, petite woman comes into focus over her. “Mom.”

“That’s right. You’re going to be sick of me, before long,” her mother says, playfully wiggling her pigtail.

“Take me home,” Grace entreats, looking out the window.

“Soon, baby girl.”

“Am I gonna be alright?” She’s earnest; Grace has been worrying about this.

“Of course you are.” Moms can seem so certain.

“But I’m afraid... of everything.” She’s only eighteen, and she’s afraid of fucking everything.

Her mother sizes her up. “Grace, you’re a teenager. You’re indestructible. You come from a long line of fighters. Do you think the sort of thing that’s happened to you is something new?”

Grace is flabbergasted. Mom doesn’t usually talk to her so bluntly. “What?”

Mom looks tired, but there’s a familiar fire in her eyes. “Ask me some other time.”