The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bernice tried to hide her disappointment when Chris showed her the box that was much too big for an engagement ring.

He could hardly blame her even if he saw her disappointment, she thought a bit petulantly as she put on a smile. It was their one year anniversary. They had taken a gorgeous summer sunset cruise in the bay and now they sat at Gary Danko, sipping champagne in the corner booth. What else was she supposed to expect but an engagement ring?

She had already told all her friends that she would say yes. Not because she loved him—he was too low brow and too crass—but he made enough money to afford a town home in the city proper and he was more than willing to spend it on her. She was willing to teach him how to dress and how to act, and his naïveté made her extracurricular activities easy to hide.

But the navy velvet jewelry box he held towards her was much too big for a ring. It may be something nice, but it was neither a Tiffany nor a Cartier, so honestly, Bernice had already lost interest. Still, she opened it to be polite. It wouldn’t do for her to make a scene in a restaurant. For all she knew, her next beau could be seated at the same section.

It was a choker of some sort. About two inches wide and very thin, it looked like it was made of two rows of linked metal rectangular pieces, similar to many watch bands. It reminded her of Chris’ awful taste. Maybe, she thought, she should stop wasting time at this fishing hole.

“How... different,” she said aloud. “I don’t believe I’ve seen anything like this in the catalogues.”

“Oh, I custom made it. I measured your neck and machined it myself in the shop.” He apparently did not pick up on her disapproval. “Here, let me put it on you.”

Her red hair was already up in a bun, since she had planned to look beautiful for her surprise engagement photos. So she obliged by staying put as he came over with his grade school art project. The metal felt cool against her neck and with a few clicks and whirls, he went back to his seat with a very satisfied look. “It looks perfect on you.”

She felt around the necklace. Each piece lay snug and flat along her skin. She could feel no gap or mechanism for the clasp on the back. Of course, Chris was an engineer and would execute the technical aspect flawlessly, even if his style was an utter embarrassment.

“Thank you, darling.” She hoped she sounded sincere. She would wait until he paid for dinner and they were home before breaking up with him.

Bernice did not speak a word to him on the way home, and he wasn’t surprised. She fiddled with the choker, probably to try to take it off. But it was not made to be taken off, and she gave up eventually.

She had obviously expected something very different as an anniversary gift, but at this point, Chris cared very little about what she wanted. The most difficult part of his plan had been how to get the collar on her. For once, his understanding of her social expectations bore fruit and she put up no resistance in public.

As they entered their apartment building on Nob Hill, Bernice kicked off her high heels to hike up to the fourth floor. Today, there were no prodding reminders that he should buy a town home instead of staying in the spacious rent controlled apartment with a view.

She was going to break up with him, he thought. He would’ve felt sad about it, except that he had known this would happen. He had found out about her cheating on him several months ago, and had channeled his despair and disgust into the collar he gave her.

So it was no surprise that the first thing she said to him when they entered his apartment was, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily, as he continued to take off his shoes and hang up his coat.

She threw her stuff on the couch and left her heels on the coffee table. “Chris, this isn’t working.”

He sat in a high back and overstuffed armchair by the couch and looked at the view out the balcony. The sky was dark, but the city never went dark. “Why? Because you fuck James all the time?”

“Chris, how dare you!” There was outrage in her tone. He looked over and saw that a flush darkened her cheeks nicely. Maybe it was from shame, but he thought it was probably out of anger that he might fault her for anything.

“Are you going to deny it?” Chris had his proof, but even after all the evidence of her cheating, he thought she was beautiful. Her curls perfectly softened her aristocratic cheekbones. Her hazel eyes glowed with vitality. Her neck was long and elegant and regal, now framed with his collar. A small part of Chris still hoped that she would apologize and tell him it was all a mistake and that she loved him. A small part of him thought he might even forgive her.

Instead, she stood up in front of him and crossed her arms. “Can you blame me? You’re so short and pudgy. You wear your t-shirts and torn jeans. You may have money from working for a startup that got sold, but you don’t know anybody and you don’t want to know anybody. In a city full of sharks, you’re just a minnow. All you want is sex in missionary position, and I am so bored that I can’t help but fantasize about actual men.“

Chris stood up, too. He may not be six feet, but he still towered over Bernice’s 5′4″, especially when she was barefoot. He tried to sound in control of himself. “You shot down every suggestion I’ve ever made to spice up our sex life. What? Am I supposed to rape you? It’s my fault you’re a cheater? And I suppose now you want to break up with me?”

“You’re an imbecile who can’t hope to understand women,” she spat at him. “And yes, I’m dumping you.”

She didn’t move away immediately and he wondered if she expected him to beg. Or apologize. Instead, he clicked a button on the remote he had in his pocket.

Bernice felt a sharp prick at the base of her neck from the necklace. She wondered if her skin got caught between two of the metal pieces, but then she found the room swimming around her. Chris sat her gently down on the chair he had been sitting in.

“What’s going on?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure her mouth formed the sounds correctly. It felt cottony. “I’m dizzy.”

“It’s okay, darling,” he told her. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

He sounded like he was reassuring her, but he didn’t stroke her hair or hold her hand. His smile seemed full of teeth, in her incapacitated state. He put a neck pillow around her and then put a huge helmet over her head. She wanted to protest it was too heavy. It covered her ears and eyes and honestly, scared her a little. But when she opened her mouth, he stuff something in it and she couldn’t talk at all.

She thought she heard him walking around the room. With a few more clicks and beeps, she saw something. But it wasn’t the apartment they were in. Instead, it was full of bright colors and swirling patterns. She could hear something playing in her ears, the sounds seemingly slightly offset.

Something was terribly wrong, she thought, but she couldn’t seem to muster the strength to fight it. Instead, she found herself watching the video more and more carefully until finally, she could make out the scenes.

They were of her. In one, she was nude and on her hands and knees. She wiggled her ass and her pendulous breasts jiggled. In the next one, she sat back on her knees, with her legs open and her shaved pussy clearly displayed. Then she was on her back with a man shoving a giant dildo in her.

She didn’t question where these images came from. She didn’t protest when she felt a vibrator filling her vagina. All she knew was that all of this made her so horny.

In another image, her hair was tied up to something in the ceiling, and a man stuck a metal butt plug into her. She felt somebody moving her, and then something cold and large slid into her ass. It hurt a little bit, but then it was seated firmly in her.

Now, the image showed her being penetrated by two men and both her cunt and her ass were vibrating. She could make out the words in the audio now, as if they had always been so clear. It was her own voice, after all. “I’m a slut,” it said... she said. “I’m a filthy whore. I want to be used. I need to be fucked.”

It didn’t feel quite right to Bernice, but when she tried to rearrange her thoughts, a sharp zap to the base of her neck distracted her.

Then, all she could think was what her voice told her. She watched as men mauled her breasts and came on her hair. She wasn’t sure if she thought it or someone told her, but she heard, “I would do anything to be fucked. I can’t think of anything except sex. I’m just a dirty slut. I would do anything for cock.”

With the vibrators in her, she really couldn’t muster enough energy to fight the thoughts entering her head. She knew that she was drooling around the gag in her mouth but she couldn’t seem to care. When it secreted a honey-like liquid, she sucked and drank it down. Then, the vibrators amped up, a pleasant shock emanated from the choker, and an orgasm rocked through her.

The assault on her senses didn’t stop after her first orgasm, though. Even as she lay there shaking, the images and her voice continued. Now, she was being taken against an alley wall. “I’m a stupid horny slut.” Now, she was doing doggy on the dirt next to an abandoned train track. “I exist to service cock.” Now, she was stripping while men watched and jacked off onto her. “I love being ogled.”

And each time, when she tried to think clearly, the pain came back. Instead, she learned to suckle on the sweet nectar and let the orgasms rock her. Her world was built on pleasure.

Eventually, she the machine showed her pictures of Chris, naked with a hard cock. Hmm, she thought, I want to service cock. It didn’t matter that he was had a beer gut or that he was balding. He was a man. He had a dick. “Chris is my master,” her voice said. “I always obey Master. I exist to pleasure Master. Master is always right.“

Yes, of course, Bernice thought as she let her mind float and simply let herself feel the vibrators. She vaguely wondered why she was reminding herself of such obvious things, but even that thought only flittered through her mind before disappearing out of reach.

Eventually, her mind was overloaded and she fell into a deep slumber. She didn’t feel it when Chris came to take the helmet off of her and the vibrators out of her. She certainly wasn’t lucid enough to complain about being left in a puddle of her own juice.

Bernice woke the next morning on the couch. She was still in her Marc Alexander dress she’d bought from Saks Fifth the week before. The skirt was hiked up around her waist and cold air tickled her pussy.

When she stood up, she felt the crick in her neck. She tried to work it out and realized that she must have slept on the couch all night.

What happened last night? She played through her memories, but there wasn’t much there. She didn’t usually get black out drunk with Chris; With him, she played the good girl. Even though she was actually a dirty slut.

That stray thought startled her, and she wasn’t sure where it came from. Instead of trying to figure it out, though, she just ignored it and went to the bathroom. She took off her dress and showered with the collar on. She fondled herself a bit, thinking of Chris’ hard cock sliding in and out of her, but couldn’t seem to orgasm. So she toweled herself dry and went in search of him.

She found him in the bedroom, reading in bed.

“Good morning, darling,” he said when he saw her.

“Good morning,” she replied. “What happened last night?”

He ogled her curvaceous body and she thrust out her chest so he can get a better view. Then, he patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come here and I’ll tell you.”

So she climbed into bed. “It was our one year anniversary,” she remembered. “But we didn’t have sex.”

“No, we didn’t,” he agreed. “But instead, I made you my slave.”

“What?” Bernice tried to remember what he meant. She felt a slight panic at trying to think so hard and rubbed her neck. Then she decided to simply give up and ask, “What do you mean?”

He pushed the sheet down and stroked himself leisurely. Bernice felt desire momentarily overwhelm her. “Please, let me suck on it.”

“If you’d like.” He smiled at her and stroked her hair as she applied her talented mouth on his cock. “You’ve always wanted to be my utterly obedient sex slave. So I’ve granted your wish by giving you the collar. You’re very grateful.”

Yes, Bernice thought. She remembered now. She had been so excited for their anniversary dinner. She thought that he might propose, but she had gotten something even better. He had given her the collar and made her his slave, which meant she could focus solely on his pleasure.

“Yes, master, thank you.”

He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and started ramming her face up and down his dick. She felt herself choking, first on the dick, then on the mucus filling her throat and nose.

I exist to pleasure my master, a part of her reminded her, and she felt herself simply float, until spurts of liquid filled her mouth.

“That’s it, you whore. Even drooling and choking, all you want is to pleasure me.”

Something was wrong, a small part of Bernice thought, but the rest of her ignored it. She swallowed and felt herself orgasming.

“What’s your name?” her master asked her a couple of days later.

Bernice didn’t understand why he asked, but she answered anyway. “Bernice.”

“No, you’re Bunny,” he told her. “People called you Bernice, but deep down you’re Bunny. You’re just a silly little sex bunny.”

She blinked at him. “Am I?”

He groped her breast painfully through her tank top. But it was her master, so even the pain just made her horny and wet. “Of course you are. You wouldn’t know what to do if I don’t give you instructions. That’s why you’re grateful I’m your master.”

For the first time in a few days, she felt the fog starting to lift from her mind. “No, that’s not...”

Chris made a motion, then there was a slight prick in her neck, and the world was floating again.

She stared into his hard, brown eyes. He told her, “I’m your master. You’re just Bunny. A silly little sex bunny.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied. Her master was always right. She was so silly to have doubted him at all.

He smiled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. “You’re just a silly bunny. And I need to program the collar to auto dispense the sedative. That was just a bit too close.” He muttered the last part to himself. Since it didn’t make any sense and Bunny was just silly, she didn’t worry about understanding it.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Bunny,” Bunny answered cheerfully.

“Good girl.” She was so happy that she made her master happy.

“What does Bunny do?”

“I love sex.” She also knew the answer to this one. She liked it when her master asked her the easy questions.

“Who will you have sex with?”

“Um...” She didn’t understand. Sex was sex. Just thinking about cocks sliding in her made her wet. She snuck a hand down to finger her bare clit and caress her labia.

“Anyone,” her master told her, drawing her attention back to the subject at hand.

“Yes, of course. Thank you, master, for telling me.”

She saw him smile, and it warmed her, sending a tingle from her clit through her vagina and made her stomach clench. “Such a polite Bunny. Now, do you know what is the name for someone who will sleep with anyone?”

Bunny thought about this. She was no longer scared of trying to think and her master seemed to appreciate her efforts, even if sometimes she couldn’t find the right answer. “A slut.”

“Yes,” her master agreed. “You’re a slut.”

“You’re so silly,” she told her master. “Bunny already knew she’s a dirty slut.”

He nodded. Then he made a familiar gesture to the bed, so she stood up from her kneeling position on the floor and climbed onto the bed and waited on all fours. He didn’t make her wait long before he shoved a butt plug in her and then slid his own delicious cock in her sloppy, wet pussy. Slurp, slurp, slurp, her cunt went, until he came. And then she came, too.

One day, Chris brought three men home. They were former coworkers. He hadn’t worked since he sold his startup.

Bunny didn’t learn their names. She just knew that she should dress in her special bra and and her long flowing skirt. The bra was a lacy white with holes in the middle for her nipples to poke out of. The skirt was a translucent white and anybody could see her shaved cunt beneath it.

She served them tea and one of them pinched her nipples. She thanked him.

Another grabbed her ass as she turned away and she had to pause as she let the pleasure fill her, or she might drop the tea.

Eventually, they asked her to put on a mask, the kind that covered her whole face and her hair. She couldn’t see and sometimes, they covered her nose and mouth and she couldn’t breathe either. She just floated as they fucked her, first with toys and then with their cocks.

Near the end, someone pulled the mask off her and pried her mouth open and stuck his cock in her. They put a vibrator on her clit. And they told her couldn’t cum.

“Please,” she pleaded. “Please. Bunny needs to cum. Please.”

“You’re just a whore,” someone said. Not her master.

“Yes, Bunny,” her master agreed. “Admit it. You’re just a whore.”

“I’m a whore. Bunny is a whore. Please, let Bunny cum,” she begged.

“Okay,” her master said. “The whore can cum.” And she did.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Bunny the whore.”

Her master smiled. “And what do whores do?”

“Fuck for money,” she told him. That part she had already worked out, even if she was usually stupid and sex-addled. It wasn’t her fault, though, her master had explained. That was just how Bunny whores were made.

“Listen carefully,” he told her and of course she obeyed. “You are a whore who can never deny a client. You will stand in the trashiest clothing in a trashy corner and show yourself off so you can get clients. When you get money, you will use it to feed yourself and every additional penny, you will spend on clothing and shoes. Nothing warm. Nothing practical. Nothing stylish. But crass things that will let people know that you’re a dirty whore.”

Bunny tried to understand, though she hadn’t handled money in a long time.

“Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Yes, master.”

“Then, go,” he told her.

The first man had been drunk and a bit stinky, but he had showed her his cock and she had become so horny. He had only wanted her to suck him off. His cum had tasted bitter but she had swallowed anyway, and she felt her own orgasm. He had left without paying her and she had gone hungry that night.

Bunny had tried to go home, but her master had told her that whores worked for a living. They had no homes. That was what they enjoyed and that she couldn’t cum unless she made her client cum.

She had understood and returned to the streets.

A car came by and rolled down the window. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Bunny,” she told him.

He laughed. “Well, Bunny, want to go for a ride?”

“Yes, please,” she gushed. Then, she added, “But I’m hungry so you need to give me the money first.”

“How about a dollar?”

A dollar wouldn’t buy her much, but she also couldn’t refuse him. He was a client and she was a whore, after all. “Alright.”

He laughed again, ugly and twisted. “Actually, let’s just do it in the alley.” He handed her a dollar and pulled her into the shadows. He shoved her so hard against the brick wall that her head bounced and she saw stars, and yet all she felt were the warmth of his arms and his hard cock pressed against her flimsy skirt. She didn’t even mind the smell anymore. It turned her on—even though she was already always horny—because it meant that she would get to be a whore and service a cock soon.

His cock slid into her and she could feel her orgasm building. “Please,” she begged. “Please cum in me.”

“You want it bad, huh, bitch?”

“Yes, yes,” she agreed. She needed him to cum in her so she could orgasm.

With a grunt, he came. His hand on her throat tightened, but she didn’t fight it even though she had to gasp for breath. She was riding the wave of her own orgasm and couldn’t care about anything else.

One day, when the weather was slightly colder—there was not that much weather variation in the city—Bunny saw a familiar face.

He walked towards her but didn’t touch her.

“Master,” she cried, her voice full of joy. “Would you like Bunny to service you?”

He sneered. “You’re a filthy, disease-ridden whore. So, no.”

She wasn’t sure what happened, but her master was upset at her.

Before she could question him, he asked her, “Do you know why you’re a whore?”

Bunny tried to think about it, but she was a stupid whore and her mind worked slowly. “Before, I wanted money and I slept with people. So I slept with people for money. So I’m a whore.”

“Yes, that’s true, in a way,” her master said. “But really, it’s because I made you into one. You used to be beautiful and polished. You thought I was too crass and low brow for you. You thought you could cheat on me.

“Now look at you. Your hair is greasy and matted. Your breath stinks. Your eyes have dark circles underneath them. And your skin is bruised everywhere. You probably won’t survive much longer.”

“Master,” Bunny pleaded. “Please, Bunny is so horny. Please fuck Bunny.”

He laughed. It wasn’t a pretty sound. “And you’re dumb as a brick, though you used to be so good at calculating and manipulating your way to getting what you want.”

“Please...”

He looked at her. “I’ll let you orgasm. You can give yourself orgasms. But every time you do, you become a little bit stupider. Even more so than you already are. You’ll eventually forget how to talk or that you need to eat, but each time you orgasm you’ll be hornier and you’ll crave it more. You’ll become the stupid whore you’ve always been.”

She didn’t seem to care. She lifted up her excuse of a skirt and started rubbing her clit and pumping her vagina. It didn’t take her long before she orgasmed. She never paused in her manual stimulation as she went from orgasm to orgasm, in the few minutes Chris stood and watched. Her eyes remained glassy and unfocused.

Disgusted, Chris walked away. There was already precious little her mind could hold. Soon, there would be none at all.

The next day, Chris met a handful of potential investors.

“The Attitude Adjustment Collar was proven a success on a recent live experiment,” he told the small and very selectively chosen group. The pictures on the slideshow were quite explicit and not suitable for the general public. “It’s stylish and subtle, and can be custom designed for the special one in your life. Paired with the Reprogramming Headset, you can unobtrusively train away undesirable behavior or teach a subject new behavior.”

The few people in the room clapped.

Soon, Chris thought, he would have enough money to buy a whole house in the city, complete with a yard.