The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The man sat alone in the room, the helmet slid down over his face, concealing his eyes. His lined mouth, however, was set in a fierce scowl of concentration. His gloved hands curled in air in front of him, poking and prodding at something that only existed on the small screens in front of his eyes. Snarls of cable ran from the gloves and the helmet, both eventually vanishing into a nearby bank of machinery that whirred and hummed unceasingly.

Finally, the man sighed with mild disgust, and gave up fighting with whatever it was he saw. He carefully reached up with one hand and, by practiced touch, punched a large green button on the side of the helmet. The lights on the helmet shut off, and the system started powering down. He struggled absently out of the gloves, and then the helmet. His eyes were brown, turned inward in thought. Everything was absently but carefully piled back on the same table that held the main equipment. He briefly studied a few screens, typed in a few commands on one of the attached keyboards, and shut off the main VR generator, which wound down with a grudging whine. Lastly, he covered the entire bank of machinery with a piece of heavy canvas that rolled down from the top.

Desmond emerged from his lab, fussily pulling on his worn overcoat as he did so. His craggy face grim, he closed the door and locked it behind him, rattling the knob to assure himself the bolt was in place. Satisfied, he plodded off down the hall towards the elevators. If one were to be watching from a nearby window, his stumpy figure could eventually be seen to emerge from the front of the building, and head off towards the parking lot.

Someone was watching.

Marcia left her post by the window and strode down the hall, her heels clicking sharply on the worn floor tiles. The building was quiet now. Most everyone had gone home for the day. Glancing coolly up and down the hall, the tall, dark-haired woman unlocked the door with her “borrowed” key and slipped into Desmond’s lab. She closed and re-locked the door behind her. Not turning on the lights, she stood silently for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the room’s dimness. An icy smile split her perfect features. This had all been so easy... And Desmond no doubt thought he’d been so clever, keeping her out of his lab, hiding his progress under mounds of diversionary paperwork. But counter-measures were simple enough to arrange- bribing and bullying that little mouse Takashima, Desmond’s ignored little assistant, for tantalizing, if annoyingly vague, progress reports, reading all of Desmond’s own reports and part-request forms, such as they were, before they were passed from her office and on ‘upstairs’.. Now the time had come for her to check out Desmond’s precious new invention first-hand, and see if it was worth.. appropriating, officially or otherwise. And who might be interested if it was.. Whatever it was, from the parts he’d ordered, she’d long ago decided it couldn’t just be another VR unit...

Following Miss Takashima’s overly-pedantic instructions, Marcia rolled back the canvas, and started up the machinery. It activated with a low hum. Rows of lights came on. Screens slowly lit up and began displaying scrolling chunks of data. On the appropriate panel, she carefully punched in the access code, then picked up the helmet and slid it over her head, hiding her cold blue eyes. She was mildly surprised to see that the helmet, while in stand-by mode, showed her a view of the lab on its liquid-crystal display-there were evidently miniature cameras mounted on the outside of the helmet..

She found the gloves, and slipped them on, wiggling her long, slender fingers into position. She sat down in the chair, which was surprisingly soft and comfortable, and casually crossed her long, shapely legs. Marcia shifted around, and then reached up to activate the helmet with a push on the button. Unlike Desmond, she had to fumble a bit before the button clicked home.

There was a flicker, and the helmet became fully functional. For a moment, she mentally held her breath. The lab abruptly faded out, and she was seeing..

A field of flowers. An endless field of large-petaled flowers stretching off in all directions, seemingly a million different hues. A pair of disembodied hands floated before her. Blinking and looking around at the sudden mad influx of color, she flexed her hands slightly in surprise, and her ‘cyber-position’ moved. It didn’t take too long to figure out how to crudely control her movements, small gestures of the blocky white hands giving her the ability to rotate and change position. As she experimented, the flowers around her slowly began to spin like pinwheels, petals rotating, as if a wind was slowly picking up. Beginning to get the hang of things, Marcia too, spun slowly around, then rose somewhat jerkily away from the ‘ground’ and towards a bright blue ‘sky’ filled with regular swirls of white and grey clouds. Below her, more spinning flowers, stretching off into infinity. Studying the fields, she could almost see a pattern in the colors; they started to repeat after a while... swirl... She shook herself, and realized she was hearing a dull not-unpleasant, buzzing noise, coming through small headphones in the helmet. Presumably it was supposed to be the noise the ‘flowers’ were making..

Marcia was seriously nonplussed. It was all very pretty, and somewhat more realistic than other VR displays she’d seen, but this is what Desmond was guarding so jealously? Just a field of..

Something caught her eye in the distance. A structure of some kind rose up out the center of the slowly-spinning flowers, tall and bright. She looked around. There was nothing else in sight. She shrugged, and oriented herself towards it, zipping along across the endless riot of moving color below.

The building matched its surroundings. It was a narrow, spindly, turreted castle, painted dozens of jaunty colors, all swirled together, rising straight out of the field below, almost like it was just another plant. The flowers marched right up to its base- there was no road, no moat.. Her eyes drifted upwards. Instead of flags, on the top of each tower, a colorful pinwheel (a real pinwheel, not a flower..) turning slowly in the non-existent breeze. Dozens of windows sparkled complicated patterns of white and gold in the light that came from an invisible sun. Marcia almost smiled. The building strongly reminded her of long-forgotten stories that she used to read in her childhood, tales of unicorns, and princesses and knights, and similar nonsense.. The rhythmic humming was a little stronger here... maybe it wasn’t coming from the flowers at all..

She maneuvered around the building, looking for a entrance. Firmly shaking off her mood of nostalgia, she felt silly, but there had to be a point to all of this foolishness.. Desmond was an idiot in many ways, but he also didn’t waste his time on frivolous projects. In fact, that idea that he had been able, all by himself, to conjure up this bizarre dreamscape was rather amazing. If nothing else, she could probably sell it to some computer game company.. or something..

When she saw it, the entrance couldn’t be missed. An enormous circular opening led into the building, unblocked by bars or door. Lights flickered around its rim, much like the airport runway lights she’d seen dozens of times in her red-eye business flights for the company... She swooped down, becoming rapidly more proficient at controlling her movements.

The opening led directly into a long, mirror-lined hall that plunged in and steadily down, doorless and arrow-straight, lit by floor-to-ceiling-to-wall rings of light that glowed in gaps between the mirrors. She paused her headlong rush and looked in one of the slightly-warped mirrors, suddenly curious to see what her body looked like ‘here’. She couldn’t see anything amidst the ripples and whirls of sparkling ‘glass’, except colors that sluggishly flowed.. twisted.. Marcia shook herself again, and moved on down, the rings of light flashing by her as she dropped down... and down.. flick... flick... down for an eternity..

The hallway abruptly opened out into a large chamber. Floating out into the enormous polygonal room was like being inside a crystal- the walls were lined with shimmering mirrors, mirrors that covered each surface from floor to ceiling without obvious breaks or seams. Only there was no real floor or ceiling- each was a sort of sloped hole in the shape of a pyramid, a series of mirrored planes that all narrowed down to a single pulsing point at the exact center of the room’s axis, giving the entire room the shape of a thick pencil that had been neatly sharpened at both ends. If this had been.. reality, she would have stepped out of the passageway and immediately fallen and slid down into the ‘bottom’ point, probably breaking her neck..

In the center of the room hung a throne, a massive, smoothly flowing glob of a chair rigidly supported by strands of itself that reached out to brush against, connect with, the various points of intersection in the walls. The throne’s surface colorings were in constant motion, patches of red and blue and green and white swirling around and around like someone had blown and stretched a hollow shape out of glass, and then poured a dozen different liquids inside. While steady white light filled the room from some indefinable source, each of the walls/mirrors would flash brightly in turn, highlighting a spiral pattern that lurked just under their surface, and echoed down, down, down, into their depths.. Each flash of light also added a slow succession of tinges to the throne’s oozing patterns and threw an odd, fascinating new set of twisting throne-shadows around the room... As each mirror flashed, a soft swishing noise filled her ears, fading slowly away... replaced by a new surge... The room-circling color-flash strobed behind her, and something made her spin her body around. The passage she had entered was gone, only a smooth, pulsing. mirror remained, showing a twisting reflection of the throne, but not of her... the throne.. She frowned and shrugged, spinning back, eager to see what was in the throne.

It took only the slightest nudge to send her sailing closer to that fascinating, strobing, chair. As she did so, the throbbing sound got louder. She could now see that there was something resting on the throne’s flat, hard, seat. Not a person, but a sphere, a crystal ball, perched solidly on a set of four curved iron legs. Marcia flicked a white finger and slowly coasted closer and closer.. She gradually realized that while the throne didn’t appear to change size, the ball was larger, much larger than it had first seemed, not something that could be held in her hands, or even arms.. In addition, something pulsed inside the ball, fuzzy and confused at first, but as she got closer, she could see it more clearly, more tiny details coming into view. the blurred smudge slowly resolved itself into a flat spinning disk, a disk carefully rimmed with alternating tabs of silver and gold and covered with spiralling pulsating bands of red and blue and green and orange that twirled down, down into the center of the disk like the flowers, like the clouds in the sky, like the pinwheels, like the flashing crystal walls of the throne room, all spinning, endlessly spinning, spinning and singing to her, singing down into her mind... Marcia kept zooming towards the disk.. faster and faster, with less and less effort, she now realized the Disk was huge, gigantic, expanding out from horizon to horizon, far bigger than the puny sphere that contained it, bigger than her, bigger than the world, bigger and more powerful than everything, and it was pulling her in, pulling her down into a vast blue and red and orange and green and white corridor.. pit.. abyss.. that went down, down, down forever, sucking her with it.. She struggled feebly against its pull, tried to turn away, but it was like a dropped anvil struggling against gravity. Exactly like; she wasn’t travelling into the corridor now, she was falling, plunging helplessly into the strands of color that twisted and re-arranged themselves, and squirmed suggestively together, forming shapes that she half-recognized, ones that set her teeth on edge, others that made her want to dance and sing and throw up... The throb in her ears was everywhere, getting louder and louder, the throb and all the colors were becoming one, focusing, causing an itch down in her brain, right between her eyes, an itch that rapidly became a burning, a pinpoint of pain, a beam of noon-day sun focused and refined by a million magnifying glasses... Marcia screamed silently, tried to cover her eyes, her ears, but her suddenly-invisible hands thumped clumsily and uselessly against something smooth and hard. She couldn’t pull away, there was nowhere to pull away to, everywhere she turned she was falling , plummeting faster and faster, forever and ever, down into that wonderful...... hideous.. inescapable.. lightsound.... that burned.... into her brain....

Then the universe twisted and oozed unpleasantly, impossibly, ripping at her eyes, turning itself inside out, and a second burn started up, not just in her brain now, but further down her body, much further down, stabbing between her legs again and again like a red-hot poker... each stab going deeper... deeper... a wonderful burn that grew, and grew... and overlapped and became the other burn and the throb, rapidly merging with the glorious wonderful orgasmic lights bringing it allintooneandkeepingherthereforever...

Marcia snapped open her eyes with a gasp that was almost a moan, almost a scream. Where was she? What had happened? She looked around blearily. She was sitting in a soft chair in a dimly-lit room. Something was wrong though.. everything looked.. oddly granulated..

Desmond’s Laboratory. The words formed smoothly in her head, slotting neatly into place, black on white. She was in Desmond’s Laboratory, hooked up to his VR Machine. Trying to learn what it really was. She picked her gloved hands up off of her skirted lap and stared at them. Occasionally one of them twitched. Something was wrong with her hands.. She felt... she shifted her legs apart, looked down past her impressive chest. She couldn’t see it, but her panties were dripping wet. Had.. had she orgasmed? She knew she had.. The glow was still fading from inside her.. Why? She couldn’t remember anything. She had put on the headset, and pushed the button and seen... pinwheels... something spinning.. then..

Or had she?

“You’re not quite there, yet, Marcia. Push the button.”

Yes. The voice was right. It was time to push the button, and learn what Desmond’s VR machine really was. Her hand rose up and pushed the big green button.

The lab blinked out, and was replaced by..

A field.

A field full of colorful flowers, stretching off forever, merging with the blue sky off at the endless horizon. She drifted easily up off of the ground into that cloud-streaked sky, turned as the flowers and then the fields and the sky began to spin, faster and faster, multi-colored vortexes opening up all around her, trying to pull her in. She zoomed smoothly over the landscape, headed towards a fairy-tale castle that loomed in the distance, with towers and pinwheels and windows that sparkled in the invisible sun.

In the side of the castle was a tunnel, bigger, more real, than the wall that held it, going down... down... a red and blue and orange and white tunnel rimmed with tabs of silver and gold that blinked like airport runway landing lights, all of it going down forever, and she fell instantly and silently into the colors, plunging down falling to her doom and salvation as the colors the red and the orange and the green twisted and formed obscene shapes before her eyes, and then inside her eyes. In back of her eyes.

And inside her cunt.

Deep inside her cunt the burning the colors the voice the man the face

Marcia opened her eyes, almost calmly this time. She had orgasmed. Again. Several times. Or so her body told her. After she had seen..

Something.

Nothing.

With a mild clench in her stomach, she knew that wasn’t true. She had seen something. But whatever it was, it was gone again. (Again..?). Something had casually drawn a thick black curtain across her mind and memory, and there was nothing there... nothing at all...

She looked around the dim room again. Something else was wrong. Something else was missing, had changed. But..

There was no time for this now. She had to get out of here. Think later. Yes. Get out of here. Run away and curl up and hide. Before.. Before... She stumbled to her feet, and fumbled off the gloves. Removed the helmet and dropped it on the table. Scooped up her purse from the floor, and started from the room. Something stopped her.. what?

“The canvas, Marcia.”

She turned back, pulled the canvas down over the equipment, again started for the door.

“Marcia.” Run.. one corner of her mind whisper.. Too late.. another piece whispered back... it had been too late right from the beginning..

She turned around yet again. The voice had come out of nowhere. The office was still empty. Then a horrible, sick, realization came over her, all the more frightening because it so quickly became remote, detached, unimportant. What was wrong before, what she had seen but not been allowed to see. One corner of the office wasn’t empty. It was blocked off, by a pattern of red and blue and white and orange that spun down, ever down.. The lights in the room had came up. The voice spoke again.

“Look at your hands, Marcia.” Her head jerked down, her hands jerked up, unwilling, sluggish, losing their grip on her purse. She looked at her hands. Really looked at her hands.

Her blocky, white hands, that floated disconnected in the air. She screamed. Her head snapped up, and part of the twisting pattern smoothly melted away, showing a woman sitting quietly in an ordinary chair. It was a moment before her stunned mind recognized Desmond’s assistant, Miss Takashima. Instead of her usual lab coat, glasses, and tight bun, the small woman was sitting in the chair naked, her black hair floating loose around her head as she gazed rapturously off into space, her lips parted, her small, well-formed breast pointing outward. Her legs spread wide, showing a sopping wet pussy. Her disconnected white hands floating and twitching before her. Marcia saw those hands, and screamed again, weakly.

The voice laughed and spoke again.

“My dear Marcia. Don’t panic. You hands aren’t really changed. You and Miss. Takashima here are merely responding to extremely powerful suggestions, implanted in your minds during your little visits to.. my world.”

“Desmond.” The word came out in a hiss. She’d kill him, strangle him and make him give her back her hands, take away the spinning colors..

“That’s right. Marcia. When I got home, I saw that the alarms in my lab had been tripped. So I came right back. And had Anne come with me. I’m in the room with you right now, although I’m afraid you can’t be allowed to see me just yet. Your programming seemed to be going so well, I brought you out of it a little early, so as to run a little test. But I can see that you’re not quite done yet. But don’t worry. By morning you will be. By morning, you will be exactly like Miss Takashima;” An invisible hand touche the woman in the chair and she moaned happily... “..my obedient slave, trapped forever inside my custom mindscape, her world edited and controlled, obeying my every command, and loving every minute of it..”

“You bastard. I’ll never...”

“Oh, yes, you will, Marcia. You’re well more than halfway there, already.” Desmond’s gravelly voice was amused. “Now go start up the machine, just like Miss Takashima taught you, and sit quietly in the chair...”

“No!” Even as her mouth said the word, her feet were walking back to the VR machine, her white hands removing the cover and setting things in motion. She struggled, but it was useless. Her hands weren’t even attached to her body. How could she control them? In a short time, she was seated in the soft, comfy chair, gloves and helmet in position, waiting, watching the pixilated room. Desmond’s voice spoke in her ear, but she couldn’t even turn her head to find out if she could now see him.

“I’ve looked forward to this for such a long time, Marcia, ever since the day you were made head of the department, and all of the resultant horrors began. It took a long time to create my little mindscape, refining every detail, casting just the right electronic shadows, so that no matter where a silly little twat like yourself goes once she enters, into the ‘castle’, up into the ‘sky,’ down into the ‘earth’, she eventually ends up in at the bottom of that spiral, with her mind and her hot burning cunt learning once and for all who their lord and master is. Actually, I was impressed you made it all the way to the castle; your willpower is quite remarkable. But we can discuss all of this in the morning. You’ll need to learn it all, and suggest refinements. So that you can bring more of your sisters into my power. Just like Anne brought me you. Now push the button.”

She screamed again, now just a hissing sound, and pushed the button.

The lab faded away, and was replaced by..

A field.

A field full of flowers under a sky full of multi-colored vortexs. She stood quietly, waiting, until the blooms started to spin. She didn’t even have to move; one of the nearby flowers stretched its stalk, reaching around in front of her face and spinning, its multi-colored center taking her down into the tunnel, falling rapidly and forever into colors that ran together and flared into incandescence in both her mind and in her cunt forever and ever andever...

Then it all went away. She was back in the lab. But, calmly reaching up to remove the helmet from her tangled, sweaty, hair, she now realized with absolute clarity that the lab was just a mask, like the castle before it had been a mask. Behind the lab, behind everything, were the spirals, going down forever, taking her down forever. The helmet removed, she looked around her, and a man was standing nearby, looking back at her. His eyes were openings onto the tunnel, and his voice was the throb.

He was her universe.

He was her master.