The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Master and Mistress had made Thing give notice at her work such that she’d be done with two weeks to spare. Her co-workers seemed still not to notice the reduction of her intelligence and once she’d given notice as she’d immediately begun wrapping up her last two weeks of work – any change that was noticed after that was chalked up to her “stress about the transition.” Mistress was very proud how much they’d accomplished already, and as week six began she thrilled at the sound of another delivery at the door. When Thing arrived home after work and removed the costume she wore to pretend she was a person her Mistress stood with a smile on her face and a box in her hand.

“Kneel, Thing, with your shoulders on the floor.” Thing obeyed as she always did now. Mistress pulled out the tail filling her ass, marveling at the gaped hole she already sported. “Looking good, bitch.” She muttered as she covered her hand with lube and slid all of her fingers plus her thumb tightly into the hole. Lube next covered a new tail, even larger in plug than the previous one, and Thing’s now beloved Mistress was amazed to see, as she pushed the huge shape into her ass, that Thing barely resisted. She wondered if this was due to how stretchy Thing’s ass had become, or simply the overwhelming obedience she’d come to live for. Once the new tail was in tightly Mistress stood and looked down at Thing. She smiled and said “good girl” and watched with delight as Thing, already on hands and knees before her, wagged her tail enthusiastically. And automatically.

Mid-way through the week Thing was instructed to stop on the way home and pick up empty boxes from a nearby liquor store. She carried them into her apartment where her Mistress met her, grinning at the sight of the boxes. “Very good, Thing.” She commended. “Remove your ‘people suit’, return to your knees where you belong and then return to me here.” Even though she’d seen her do it time after time, Mistress never stopped thrilling at the sight of this once-intelligent woman obediently peeling off her humanity to be the object that they’d turned her into.

She came to a stop kneeling before her Mistress. “Good, good.” She knew that her beloved Martin would not like her to give such praise, but to see Thing’s ass wagging, tail swishing in the air, was well worth it. “I want you to start boxing up all of your belongings.” She instructed matter-of-factly. “Leave the kitchen and anything else that your Master and I use, but things that are only yours – your books, your music, photos and other silly, little knick-knacks… These you should put into boxes. And every day on the way home from work you will visit a different charity shop, such as Goodwill or Salvation Army, and donate them so that some real people might get use from them. Do you understand?” Thing nodded, always ready to please and obey, and by the time her Mistress was seated comfortably on the couch Thing had already filled one box with bits and pieces from her previous life.

That weekend Master called Thing to the bathroom. “Today you get a new use.” He said, perfectly hiding his smile. Thing kneeled at his feet, her eyes staring blankly below his crotch, careful to avoid making eye contact. “You will do the following task for Mistress and I, and for anyone that we instruct. Do you understand?” Thing nodded silently. “As of today no one in this home will piss into the toilet anymore, as that’s what you’re now for. As of today you’re our urinal, clear?” Thing nodded, although he thought he saw her gulp a little. Her programming should not allow her any emotional reactions. Interesting…

“If, when you’re called, someone tells you to “open” you will lift your face up and open your mouth. Like so…” Master lifted Thing’s chin with a crooked finger, then took her chin and her cheeks in two hands and opened her mouth like a lion tamer might with his pet. There Thing sat, her mouth open, waiting for the next instruction. “Be sure your tongue is out just enough to cover your lower teeth. Good.” Master noticed, as he spoke, that Thing’s nipples were slowly hardening in response to this new task. He opened his pants, pulling out his cock and placing it on her tongue. “Thing, you are to let your mouth FILL before you swallow anything. If you DO swallow you should only swallow enough to keep your mouth from overflowing. You are to keep your mouth nice and full of hot piss, do you understand?” She nodded her head again, careful to keep his cock in place on her tongue. She longed to close her mouth around him and suck enthusiastically, but instead she obeyed. As she always did. “You must get permission to swallow the final mouthful.”

As he spoke she felt his cock begin to pour hot, tangy, sharp-tasting piss into her mouth. She struggled against coughing, focusing her mind on sitting still and following her Master’s instructions. Soon her mouth was close to full, and so she swallowed a small amount to keep from any overflow. Master had purposefully waited for a while to be sure she got a very full mouth the first time out. She swallowed small amounts three times before he finally stopped pissing. She knelt, her mouth full almost to the teeth and her eyes beginning to water from the tast, the stench. She knelt and waited for the next instruction. “Close.” He ordered, and she closed her mouth, brimming with hot piss.

And he left the room.

A full thirty minutes later he returned. Tears streamed down Thing’s face, both from the strain on her jaw to hold it so full for so long, as well as from the stench from her mouth, the taste, the feeling of being a human toilet. But her mouth was still full – he had her open and show him. Once he was satisfied her Master said simply “Swallow, Thing.”, and he watched as she gulped down the rest of his piss. She grimaced but swallowed it all down without complaint. “You understand how this will work then. Very good. Now clean the toilets here in the apartment one last time – they won’t be used much going forward.” And with that he left the room.

The week progressed and Thing’s Mistress made sure she continued to have to fuck herself at least once an evening. She could see the gradual changes in her mind – things taking longer to answer or much harder to get clear. Still she could maintain enough intelligence to make it through her last week of work. On Wednesday evening, as Thing sat in the corner of the living room with a mouth full of Mistress’ piss, filling a box with childhood photo albums, Mistress pulled up the International Slave Registry webpage and began Thing’s registration. She entered the necessary information to generate a slave registration number and barcode and printed the final information out with a satisfied smile. Once she finished she looked over at Thing with a tiny glance and a simple “Swallow, Thing.”

Friday was Angela’s last day of work and her colleagues took her to lunch. She found it more and more difficult to maintain this sham version of herself, having come to accept herself as not a person, but instead just Thing – an object owned by a master and a mistress, who’s only purpose is to obey them and please them in any way they wish. She made it to the end of the day and drove home for the last time, stopping at yet another Goodwill donation center to give away all of her work clothes and shoes. She walked into the apartment and began her usual transformation, but her normal uniform of collar, cuffs, knee pads and tail were not where they should be.

“Put this on.” Master said as he walked into the foyer. He was dressed to go out, and so was Mistress. Thing looked at the clothing he’d handed her – a super-tight, tiny skirt in red. A matching black and red tube top. A tight, cropped black leather jacket and black pumps with heels easily 4 inches tall. She pulled the clothing on and mistress approached her, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the bathroom. There she removed her butt plug, leaving her feeling strange and empty, it having been weeks since she stood unplugged. Mistress also put make-up on her face – thick, gaudy make-up that seemed to say “sucky, sucky, one dollah.” But judging from the smile on her face it was exactly what Mistress wanted. “Let’s go, Thing – we’re going to celebrate your last day of work.”

The three of them were seated in a corner table with a round bench seat and a long table cloth. The restaurant was nice, but not formal. As soon as the hostess walked away Master pushed Thing down under the table with short-but-clear instructions, and when the waiter asked if there was a third in their party both Master and Mistress looked slightly surprised and answered “Nope – just us.” They ordered a lovely dinner, and as they enjoyed their steak and their lobster Thing slid between their legs. First Master, next Mistress, were lovingly sucked and fondled for their enjoyment as Thing hid from sight. Occasionally a bit of table scrap, such as fat or gristle, would be handed under the table for her dinner.

After dinner Mistress joked that Thing would be the guest of honor at their next stop. They pulled into the parking lot of a very surly looking bar, the lot filled with dozens of tough-looking motor cycles. “We will go in first,” Master instructed, “and then you will come in afterward. Remember, tonight you don’t know us and we don’t know you.” Thing nodded.

“You remember what to do, yes?” Mistress asked Thing. She nodded, showing no emotion, and they climbed out of the car and left her there. After they’d been seated at a table out of the way for about ten minutes Thing walked into the bar. She wasted no time, sidling up to a couple of guys at the bar and telling them they could buy her a drink. From there she made sure she touched all the men she could, putting hands on asses and bulges and just being as sexual a person as she could. It took only about 20 minutes before a group of three eager guys took her hands and lead her into the “Pool Room” – a space off the main bar with a couple of pool tables. And no windows.

Martin wandered to the doorway and looked in about fifteen minutes after they’d slipped to the back. He stood for a few minutes, taking in the full image, and then returned to Sophie at their table. “Well?” she asked eagerly as he sat down.

“She’s on a pool table straddling one guy, with another kneeling in front of her, fucking her face, and a third guy trying to fill her ass. I think maybe we should have waited another week to finish gaping her ass.” He chuckled.

“Wow – airtight in fifteen minutes.” Mistress chuckled as she took a long swig of her beer. “How soon do you think she’ll cum?”

“Oh she came twice while I was standing there.” Master assured her. “And I think she was close to a third as I was coming back here.” Mistress clapped her hands with glee.

“Oh goody!” she chirped, adding “I gotta go see.” She skipped across the bar and stood in the pool room doorway, occasionally sliding over to let another new guy join the party. As she stood there a cheer erupted from the growing crowd in the back, and she burst out with a laugh. Louder and louder groans and moans followed her back to the table. “Oh yeah, her brains are pretty much dribbling down her legs.” She laughed, returning to the table.

“What was the reaction from the crowd about?” Master asked.

“Oh, you were right about her ass being way too wide now for most cocks. When I walked up some guy was fucking her backside with a beer bottle, which was a good show, but the cheer was for this guy they called “Moose” who is fucking HUGE, and with a cock to match. He pulled that thing out and the crowd went wild. He crammed his monster into her gaping ass and so did she!” After another twenty minutes Martin and Sophie moved to a table with a view of the back, and they enjoyed the show for another hour or two. Finally every man in the place had used each of Thing’s holes many times, in many creative ways. As midnight rolled around the gangbang petered out, and they finally went to the pool room to gather what was left of her.

Thing lay on her back on a pool table, nothing left of her outfit but her tube top wrapped around her stomach, wet and sticky. The table was a wreck – cum stains soaked into the felt everywhere, gouge marks in the sides from her stiletto heels, etc. Thing was even more wrecked. Her pussy was stretched wide and red, so easy to see the work it was put through. Her nipples were red and raw from being pinched and twisted, and cum covered her face, her hair, her tits, her ass and all over her legs. But Mistress loved most the empty, vacuous expression on her face as she lay there. Her head rolled lazily back and forth on the table, and a small dribble of drool slid down one cheek. Her eyes gazed over at her Master and Mistress, but she barely acknowledged them, so much mush was her mind. Sophie turned to Martin and said simply, and with a very big smile, “She’s officially an airhead.” This was a moment she’d looked forward to for weeks.

All the way home in the car Mistress fired questions at Thing, asking her to spell simpler and simpler words, each to utter failure. When, at last, she asked the classic “spell ‘cat’” and Thing thought about it long and hard before beginning her answer with “K” she knew she’d finally gotten what she wanted. The rest of the ride was less doing research, and more just enjoying Thing’s stupidity. Master turned to Sophie and asked “Happy, baby?”

“Fabulously so, sweetie! I wanted to see if I could pulverize that fancy brain of hers, and mission accomplished! She’s dumber than my left shoe!” Though he knew he should feel guilty for what they had done to his previous girlfriend Martin’s adoration for this brilliant young woman beside him washed everything else away, and he could only smile. He looked into the rear view mirror and called to his ex.

“Thing! Add 1 plus 1.” Thing sat and fretted over this latest complex question she could not answer.

Saturday morning. Thing knelt in the bathroom, the floor around her covered in brunette locks. More fell to the floor around her as she obediently and vacantly followed the last instruction of “stay.” At last Mistress put down the scissors and picked up the electric razor, the loud buzz bouncing off of the tile walls. She started at the base of Thing’s skull and worked slowly but methodically forward, over and over more short hairs tumbling down. Finally Sophie stood back, razor still hot in her hand, and admired her handiwork. Thing knelt before her, her head smooth and hairless. “Just one more step.” She murmured to herself, pulling out the jar of clear goo from under the sink.

She pulled on rubber gloves and opened the jar, the harsh chemical fumes making her blink a few times. Taking a generous scoop into her protected fingers Mistress spread the chemical over Thing’s smooth head. Thing winced but stayed, obedient as ever, and soon her entire scalp was covered and burning. Master stumbled blearily to the bathroom and asked his love “What are you doing?”

“The next step of the process, baby. Her head’s shaved, and this chemical will prevent any new hair growth for a month. As long as her new owner puts it on her head every 30 days or so she’ll never grow the hair back. After about 6 months the hair growth will stop permanently.”

“Can we still go run the other errand today?” he asked, the sight of Thing freshly bald bringing his cock to life.

“Absolutely, baby.” Mistress grinned widely. “That’s why I got up early to do this. I’ll rinse her head in about ten minutes, and then two hours later we’ll be ready for the next step.”

“Great. Rinse her head and then come back to bed.” Grinned Master, placing his love’s hand on his growing bulge. Mistress grinned back, also excited at each step of their master plan working so perfectly. She looked back at this woman she’d once considered her competition, now so changed; so wonderfully transformed. She turned back to Master and kissed him passionately.

He returned to bed to the sound of the shower coming to life. Mistress pulled Thing’s body, naked save her cuffs, collar and tail, into the shower and washed the harsh chemicals down the shower drain. As she watched the goo sliding off of Thing’s shiny dome she began to talk, half to Thing and half to herself. “You see, Thing, people get hair. People have a right to hair and brains and other such things. But not you.” She felt a rush as she ran her hand over the perfectly smooth head. “You’re not a person, are you Thing?” She waited for an answer, and right on queue Thing shook her head to say “no.” She knew better – she’d not been a person for weeks. “That’s right, piece of crap. You’re a toy. A pet. Not even that – you’re a bit of trash that people can use for their own fun. And it’s important that anybody who sees you understands that you’re not a person. This nice, smooth head will tell people. From now on you won’t be able to hide what you are to the rest of the world – everybody who sees you will think ‘There goes nothing but a slave.’ And if they have any doubts you’ll just need to open your mouth and let all that stupid fall out. Then they’ll KNOW what you are. They’ll know what I made you.” As the last of the nasty, smelly chemical washed down the drain the Mistress’ excitement got to be too much. She shut off the water and left Thing sitting on the shower floor. As her Mistress climbed into the bed beside her former lover and kissed him passionately Thing shivered, cold, naked and wet on the shower floor. She waited obediently for her owners.

The door to the store had an old, bronze bell hanging from the door knob that sang as they entered. The shop owner met them at the counter with a mildly sincere “What can I do ya for?”

“We need this,” Mistress answered, sliding a piece of paper across the counter, “put here.” She pointed to the base of Thing’s skull. The shop owner looked at the barcode for a minute or two, and then the spot she’d indicated on Thing’s head.

“That’s easy enough.” He answered. “Anything else?” Sophie shook her head.

“Not today.” She replied. “But we’ll be back in the next week or two for one more item.”

It took only about 45 minutes for Spider, the tattoo artist, to finish his work. Once he finished Thing paid for her new body art with her credit card, remembering at the last minute to sign her old name rather than ‘Thing.’ She paid the tattoo artist his tip by kneeling before him and sucking his cock to a rush of cum, most of which went down her throat. The rest splattered on her face and dripped down onto her chest. Instructed to leave it where it had landed and simply put on her shirt, Thing thanked the artist for her art and her use. “I’ll see you in a few, hoover.” He replied, with a grin. The trio walked out, Mistress enjoying the sight of Thing’s slave registry barcode clearly showing on her head. Another clear sign of her transformation from person to object.