The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bethany was an up-and-coming star in the world of neuroscience. Her latest grant was for a technology to selectively delete memories, which she intended to use to treat PTSD—and they were weeks away from getting approval for human trials. In mice, they could already remove memories of running particular mazes.

Bethany was an attractive woman, but she tried to downplay this as much as possible. She never wore makeup, and she always wore unflattering clothes to hide her figure. She had considered dyeing her blonde hair, but hadn’t been pushed over the edge on this yet.

In spite of her rejection of traditional femininity, she had a great boyfriend—Mark, who she worked beside in the lab.

However, one day, after a long 14 hour shift with the two of them, Mark said he needed to talk to her alone.

Mark shuffled uneasily, seeming to not know where to start.

Bethany’s heart started to sink. She had a feeling she knew what was coming.

Mark opened his mouth, closed it, before opening it again. “I, look, there’s no easy way to put this. I want to break up with you.”

Even having anticipated this, Bethany felt like she had been struck.

“But, why? Haven’t things been great? Working with you—”

“That’s the problem!” Mark said. “It’s always work with you. I love you, and I was happy to see you all day every day, at home and at work, but... Look, I still want to work with you, you’re brilliant—the smartest woman, smartest person I’ve ever known. I just, don’t want to keep doing this. All day, every day!”

Tears welled up in Bethany’s eyes. In spite of his harsh words, she did love Mark. They had met in undergraduate—and he had always been there to offer support when she was stressed from all the rigorous coursework she was taking. And to be a sounding board for all her ideas.

“But, I thought you liked working with me! You’ve never complained before,” Bethany said softly.

“Never- Never complained before!?” he said in exasperation. “I’ve tried to bring up stuff like this before, but you always brush it off! You always get some brilliant idea and run off, or switch topics to whatever we were doing in the lab that day! You’re just- I can’t keep dealing with your selfishness. It’s unfair!”

He stormed off, leaving Bethany alone in the sea of electronics that was their lab. She wanted to curl up into a ball. She walked listlessly to the cabinet where she remembered the remnants of some celebratory booze from when they had gotten the grant could be found. She had never been good at dealing with emotional issues on her own—she had just grown so used to leaning on Mark when she needed support. Drowning her troubles in an alcoholic stupor seemed like a good way to get through the rest of the evening at least.

She popped the cork, and sat inelegantly on the floor. There were chairs nearby, but the effort of getting herself to one of them seemed to be beyond her.

She took a swig.

She took a bigger swig.

She started crying.

Her mind kept going in a loop that made her more and more distraught the longer she followed its inevitable path. She had lucked into meeting Mark—he had been perfect for her, a man who could keep up with her intellectually, who could be a rock for her to lean on, who didn’t care that she wasn’t some girly girl. And, she gulped, she had always thought that he had cared about their work as much as she did. But deep in her heart she knew that had never been true. Mark liked their work, but he had never been as passionate as her about it. She had always known that on some level.

But, he was right, she had been selfish. And now she was single, and she had no one to lean on. No one to coax her through the stress. No one to tell her that drinking half a bottle of hard liquor was a bad way to deal with a break up.

However, a brilliant idea crossed her mind, breaking her out of the mental loop that she had been in for who knew how long? (She had definitely seen the janitors come through on their nightly rounds. Thankfully, they hadn’t asked why a top scientist was sobbing on the floor between gulps of liquid oblivion.)

The device! She could just erase her memory of this break-up and the doomed relationship that accompanied it. Look at Mark as nothing more than a co-worker.

She stood blearily up, her unsteady movements a clear indication of just how much had had to drink. She grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote a note to Mark explaining what she was going to do. Explaining her reasons.

Then she walked over to the machine. She was to be the first guinea pig.

She sat down onto the stool by the machine, pulled the device on her head, and started up the UI. A prompt came up, asking what memories she wanted deleted.

The movement of her fingers over the keyboard were uncoordinated, and when she saw that she had typed:

“All the bad memories aboiut M<ark”

She tried to steady herself and correct the words. She hit backspace over the two typos, and then her finger slipped and hit enter.

“All the bad memories”

She barely had time to think about the implications of what she had typed when memories started playing in her head. Earlier that same day—crying pathetically on the ground, Mark breaking up with her. As the memories left her, she felt a weight leave with them. This was good, she was going to be happy again.

However, then there were the memories of working night and day to get the device to a level where it would be okay for human testing. Jumping through all the bureaucratic hoops. In an instant those memories were gone as well. That wasn’t—that wasn’t right, she thought. She had just wanted to make herself forget... something bad? She couldn’t really remember what she had started trying to erase, but somehow she felt it wasn’t this.

The memories kept flashing through her mind—the stress of getting her PhD, nearly burning out getting her masters degree—years and years of schooling played through her mind in reverse. Each time, passing through her mind for the last time. It felt kind of nice to have years of stress just poof gone. It did worry her that all her memories seemed to be related to all the hard work she had put into learning and becoming the genius she was today. She started to worry a bit.

Was she forgetting all her years of schooling!? She realized with a start that she couldn’t remember how the device worked anymore. She tried to call up the schematics, the manufacture of it, but she was coming up blank. It was like she had never made it.

However, as these worries rose to prominence in her mind, they were snatched away by the machine. She couldn’t remember anymore why she was sitting there with a metal device attached to her head, reliving her memories of undergraduate. Stressing over every test, working herself to the bone. All she knew was that with every memory she relived, she felt calmer. A sense of peace (or perhaps of emptiness) was slowly taking over her.

She didn’t even care as she came upon freshman year, and soon all of her college education was completely gone. She was starting not to worry so much about what she had set out to erase at this point—whatever she was erasing, it couldn’t be too important.

Then she started watching her senior year of high school. God that had been stressful—trying to live up to her parent’s and her own expectations—taking as many honors and AP classes as her school offered, applying to colleges. As these memories left her head, she giggled. It felt so good to forget, to give in to ignorance.

It wasn’t long before she was had said goodby to the last of her high school memories, and started on middle school. God that whole thing had been terrible. Bullied and hated because she was a teacher’s pet, a total know-it-all and bookworm.

Finally she came to elementary school. She remembered getting into the gifted and talented program, and all the stress and expectations that had come with it. Her parents expected so much of her, and if she got less than an A+ she would spiral into catastrophic worrying. What would her parents say? Memories of math and reading passed through her head. And with these final, most basic memories she felt completely unburdened. She didn’t need numbers and letters, and the stress that came with them. The complex thoughts that came with them. She was free—her mind totally empty of anything academic.

Bethany felt so good, and so drunk and so sleepy. She pulled the funny hat thing off of her head, and lay down on the floor, going into drunk, dreamless, sleep. It was the most relaxing moment of her entire life.

Mark shook her awake.

“Bethany, are you okay?” Mark said worriedly. “You didn’t use the device did you?”

Bethany smiled at Mark, “Like, what device?” she said confusedly.

Bethany’s head was so light and fluffy, almost completely unburdened by thoughts. Though seeing Mark did spark some positive associations for her. She remembered fucking him a few times. That had been so fun. So simple. Suddenly, she felt like she needed his cock in her again.

“Oh, shit,” Mark said at her words. “What did you make yourself forget?”

Bethany giggled, “You’re acting really weird, Mark. Why don’t you let me, like, help you with that!”

She started trying to unbutton his pants.

He lightly slapped her hands away. “What are you doing? This is serious! Do you remember inventing the device or working with me?”

Bethany tilted her head. “No, silly! That sounds, like, super hard and boring. I do remember fucking you though! We should do that again. Do you want to fuck me?”

Mark took a few steps back into the table behind him. His hands accidentally knocked some things off of the table, including a folded piece of paper with his name on it. He picked it up.

The handwriting was Bethany’s although the wobbliness seemed to point to her not being completely sober while writing it.

I don’t think I can work with you, if I remember our relationship and all the pain it brought. So I’m going to erase the pain.

I hope you can still look me in the eyes after reading this. And I hope I won’t cause too much pain by doing this. If I do, you can always follow my lead.

Mark looked down at Bethany who was still trying to get at his pants. Had she done this to herself on purpose?

That seemed ridiculous. She must have made a mistake. There was no way she’d turn herself into a horny, empty headed bimbo on purpose. She probably meant to erase memories of them being together and breaking up, and overdid it.

But Bethany finally succeeded in pulling his pants off, and wrapped her lips around his cock to try to wake him up.

In spite of himself, he started getting aroused.

As the blood flowed away from his brain, he started to think maybe she did do this on purpose. Maybe she had turned herself into a fucktoy for him, to prove him wrong about only caring about work. If so, this was a hell of a gesture to prove her devotion to him.

“Bethany, can you answer a question for me. Do you remember anything about science or math? Anything about the brain?”

Bethany paused in her ministrations, and pulled her mouth away to answer.

“No, what is that?” she said blankly.

He looked into her eyes. Before you could always tell she had a sharp mind behind those eyes, but now they were dull. It was clear that no equations or electronic designs passed behind those blank eyes. Finally, Mark accepted what Bethany must have done. She wanted this for herself—to be his empty-headed fucktoy forever. He knew he could try to reverse this, find a way to undo the machine’s damage to her intellect. But as her lips closed around his cock again, he realized he had no desire to do that.

If this was what she wanted, who was he to argue?