The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“It’s useless to resist.”

I moaned and moved my hand to my nipple, where my fingers rolled and pulled. It seemed I was losing control. My brow furrowed, but it was hard to tell if it was from the effort of holding back or from the pleasure searing my veins.

“Useless,” I whispered.

“Yes, Rocki, useless. The more you feel the pleasure, the more you let me in.”

This time all that came out was a muted, aroused moan.

The voice spoke again. “Your hands are moving freely now, your body writhing under their ministrations. It is as if your memories are on fire. Burning away in your present need.”

I could hear the rhythm coming through the voice as he got closer to letting his hot, sticky load rip out of his engorged cock. “Yes, Master!” I shouted. “I obey only You! I live for You!”

He grunted over and over in my ear with such wetness that I had a whole new concept of what the term “brainwashing” could mean.

“Mmmm that was nice,” said the voice.

I sat up straight in my chair, put down my bottle of water, and said in the silkiest voice I could muster, “Feel better now, baby?”

“Yes, thanks. Can I call again?”

“Anytime, sweetie. I like making you feel good.”

Click.

Not even a goodbye. Sometimes it was like that. At one-ninety-nine a minute, it was the rare bird that hung out to talk any longer than was necessary. Even so, it paid better than flat-rate phone sex.

Many people think that telephone sex is passe, but it’s a thriving livelihood for those of us who managed to hang on in while the novelty of the Internet wore off. You see, it did wear off for a lot of people, and there was a core of pervs who preferred a sexy voice to sexy typing or crappy video. I was doing just fine.

If everything held true to form, I’d get a fax in a few minutes for another call to make. Working nights were busy nights.

Sure enough, the fax beeped and out rolled my next client. Susanna, looking for a submissive. I rolled my eyes. The problem with dominant women on the phone was that the ones who truly were Dommes had no problem finding subs in real life. The ones who called were usually shy or inexperienced, and they were a lot of work. Most times, I ended up doing both parts while they whispered in a very non-commanding tone.

Added to the fact that I wasn’t into women, it was a recipe for boredom in a job that could get boring in a hurry.

I got up, fixed myself a pop and took a long drink. It always helps to make them wait a bit. It makes you look busy, which makes you look popular, which means you must be sexy. And in phone sex, appearances, such as they are, are reality.

As I thought about it, it had been almost a year since I had a call that was more exciting than amusing. I’d even started the submissive thing to try to draw in some creative clients, but no such luck. For the first time in a long time, I was considering a new line of work. Something a little more mindless, with no exposure to the general public.

I sat back down at my desk, took another swig and dialed the number. It sounded like a bad connection. The ring echoed a bit, and I heard what sounded like touch-tone keys in fast succession.

“Hello, Rocki. This is Susanna. I am your Operator.”

Damn! The phone hadn’t rung. I hated it when that happened. Even after all this time, it threw my timing. “Hi, Susanna. Are you wanting a strictly obedient, or sensually playful submissive?”

“Silence.” she said in a flat voice. My mouth dropped open in surprise for a second while she continued. “You have no need to ask me what I want from you. You are to do as I say, and that is all that is required.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I stuttered. This was unexpected. Pleasant, but unexpected. For once, someone knew what she wanted. There was an authoritative calm in her voice. Very, very nice. I was thinking about how great this could have been if she had not been a she at all, but a he.

“DO not call me ‘Ma’am’. Operator or Susanna, only. Understood?”

“Yes, Operator.” My, my, she was a feisty one. Understated, but still demanding.

“I am about to turn on the Teletrainer. You will listen closely. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Operator.”

Ah, a science fiction freak. I’d had them before. Sometimes it was fun, but usually it was a letdown. To be honest, I was expecting her to make some silly mouth noise. I prepared to bite my cheek to keep from laughing.

Instead, a throb came across the line, much more clearly than a phone should have been able to reproduce. I barely had time to notice that when my eyes crossed gently and my head, well, shifted inside.

It was very pleasant.

I recovered quickly and put it down to needing sleep. It was that kind of feeling, like the world turning thirty degrees off axis and then returning. I was waiting for her to say something when the second throb came.

This time my vision went into sparkles as my eyes slid off-kilter, and I nearly fell backwards out of my chair. When I recovered, I noticed a tingle on my inner thighs, like a residual buzzing. It was as arousing as it was confusing. I wondered what was really happening. Was I just enjoying the fantasy, or was there something more than that?

Throb

Throb

THROB

THROB THROB THROB THROB THROB THROB THROB...

I was turning into jelly so fast that I didn’t have time to fight it. My pussy was beginning to feel hot and slick as I wriggled in my chair.

Susanna’s voice spoke. Oddly enough, I could hear her perfectly over the pulses, which should have been drowning everything out.

“What you are hearing is not sound. It is a series of electronic pulse that your mind interprets as sound. As your brain learns to focus on it, which it will do with or without your cooperation, you will notice that your vision pulses in strange colors also. You will also find that your arms and legs will not move, nor will your head or mouth, nor any muscle outside of autonomic functions. It is not important. Concentrate on the series.”

Concentrate.

Yes, I needed to concentrate. She was right. My room was fading in and out of view now, and the pulses seemed to be lasting longer and longer, so that it was my room, my reality that seemed to be the facade, and not the other way around. My thoughts began to move in rhythm with the endless barrage, and then, I had no reason to think at all.

I could only observe, a captive audience as waves of arousal and sound and color and a hundred new sensations swept through me. I was having trouble telling what was sound and what was color and what was touch and what was smell. It was all blending together. I had a moment of curiosity wondering what was happening to me.

“I am your Operator. You obey Me completely. You are My slave. You are always My slave. There is nothing else to be. There is nothing else to do. There is only the reality of your obedience to and trust in Me. You are My secret monk. You will tell no one to whom you are bound, by whom you are owned completely unless I give you an instruction to do so. The pleasure you feel is the pleasure of My directives. The arousal you feel is the power and beauty of My purpose for you. You do not need to know that purpose. You only obey. You always obey. You always only obey. To be My slave is Orgasm beyond Orgasm. It is Love beyond Love. It is Obedience beyond Obedience. When these thoughts are your own, cum for your Operator.”

Her voice droned on, but i wasn’t listening with my ears. my body was doing the talking, interpreting every word and every throb, pressing each thought deeper into me. i only needed to accept and obey.

She was right. i could not move. i could not think. i could only obey my Operator. i felt my legs start to tremble, working toward release. my coming climax only spurred me forward to accept Redirection more completely. my belly was quaking like the San Andreas fault. my body was brimming over with obedience to Her. i was hit with Love for Her beyond description. It was so precise... so clear, that words are much too fuzzy to explain. i was Hers and would always be Hers.

i found nothing odd at all in loving a woman—no, one Woman, and one Woman only. my Operator.

Orgasm flashed through me like fire through hydrogen. i fell on the floor, my headset still in place as my body humped for Her, writhed for Her, came for Her. There was no floor. No headset. No telephone. There was only the throbbing reality to which i was now committed, for which i was nothing but pure decadence and desire. lather spewed from my mouth as Her Orgasm locked my body into a fiery dance in the lust and fury of total abandon.

As the tickling, maddening pleasure rose again and again, my head slapped from side to side, floating in the inescapable pleasure of the throbbing paradise of soulfucking.

i have no idea how long i lay like that, crunching and writhing and seizing in obedience to the licking, fucking, ass-grinding will of my Operator. When the throbbing was finally gone, my voice was gone with it, even as i tried to continue screaming in pleasure, pain, lust, obedience and love.

It took six days to speak again, even in a choked rasp.

And She is my Operator still. Whatever the Teletrainer did, it has not ended. In fact, it has trained me to take my place in the scheme of the Central Command. We all obey, and we are all different. We all have our own talents. We do not know who is and isn’t a part of out new Society. We don’t need to know.

You do not need to know. You only need to know one thing.

I am your Operator.