The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Brian loved the girl he married just the way she was. Suzanne still had barely a trace of excess fat heading into thirty. Her short brown hair and high cheekbones made her look like an adorable pixie. Her clothing was consistently stylish and attractive.

But of course it was really her personality he loved more than her looks. Her wit and grace enlivened the whole room at every social function. Even Brian’s parents loved Suzanne. Although her own background was almost entirely in literature, she always understood his discussions of his work at the forefront of biotechnological research.

Because he loved her so much, he was appalled by her request. Because he loved her so much, he had to consider it.

“Come on, Brian,” she pleaded, “from what you’ve told me, it’s obvious that you can do it. It’s just another application of stuff like you do for those reconstruction cases, so don’t tell me that you can’t.”

It had been a lame dodge, he silently conceded. Now he wished he hadn’t explained to her so much. He almost wished she lacked the ability to understand his work so clearly, or the imagination to deduce its possibilities. Which was, ironically, part of what she was asking for.

“Look,” he said, sighing, “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe we could do something about the physical changes, but....”

When she’d told him, after a year of what he’d felt was excellent marital sex, about her unfulfilled fantasies, he’d thought they were strange, but harmless. To him she looked silly in the big blond wigs and the silicone bra inserts that resembled a pair of softballs fastened to her slender frame. The way it turned her on made it worth it. At least, it had. The dumb blonde routine that went along with it was even cute, but only because of its contrast with the clever and elegant persona of the real Suzanne.

“Brian, it’s got to be everything. I don’t want to just pretend anymore. If you loved me, you’d understand.”

In spite of himself, he stammered. He hated her for asking this of him. He hated himself, both for refusing and for considering it.

“I love you!” he replied, his voice breaking. “I want you, the real you, the way you are.” He looked away.

“I can’t be the way I am anymore,” she said. “Can’t you understand that by now? I need this. You can give it to me.” She paused.

Quietly, she added,“If you don’t, I can find someone who will.”

Her words then seemed to echo down a long tunnel to him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and a chill ran through his body. He never expected it to come to this. Perhaps he had never really known her. Could she really have been so miserable with her own depth and sophistication? She had told him about how these fantasies went at least as far back as her freshman Women’s Studies class in college, and about how she had tried to suppress them until they became overwhelming. It even made some sense to him, or so he had thought, but then, he had thought that letting her play the role, temporarily, in a safe and sane manner, would be enough.

He sat back on the bed, wordless. Everything that they had meant to each other, the life they had created together—she was ready to sacrifice all of it in pursuit of this perverse dream. And did she already have someone else in mind to replace him?

Brian had never been good at showing emotion, even in private with her. He blinked rapidly now, trying to keep the tears from welling up. His gaze fixed resolutely on a patch of carpet as if there was something there to see.

She sat lightly beside him. He recoiled at her gentle touch on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” she whispered. Her palm caressed his clenched fist where it pressed the mattress. “I didn’t mean that. Let’s....” She kissed the corner of his trembling lips and in spite of himself he whimpered. “I know this is too much for you. It wasn’t fair of me. Let’s just not talk about it anymore tonight.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Gradually he relaxed into her embrace. Then he gripped her tightly.

They made love with a passion he’d almost forgotten, slept briefly, then copulated again even more fiercely. Mercifully, she did not once adopt a high-pitched little girl’s voice, or enthuse about being a “dumb slut”.

Though spent, he still lay awake in the dark awhile. He wanted to make her see that he wanted her, not some airbrushed centerfold or life-sized Barbie doll. He hated the thought of losing her, but to alter her mind the way she wanted would mean he lost her anyway, and that the whole world lost her, too. Maybe in the morning she’d be ready to listen. Maybe.

At length he began to awake, his arms feeling oddly stiff and stretched awkwardly above his head. He jerked, suddenly realizing that his hands were cuffed to the bedstead. His eyes opened in bewilderment. Suzanne stood there wearing that ridiculous pink lingerie from the trashy catalogue. In spite of his nervousness and confusion, he noticed that he had his typical morning erection. Suzanne noticed too, and smiled.

This sort of thing was no part of their routine. Brian sometimes used the cuffs on Suzanne. They had padding and a keyless release mechanism so that the wearer was not genuinely trapped. He had tried wearing them a couple of times, but that didn’t give either of them any special pleasure like wearing them gave her. He stared at her as she bent over to kiss the head of his cock. She looked up at him and swirled her tongue around his glans.

“About what we talked about last night,” she began. Brian cringed. “You never would agree to it, would you?” He began to soften in her grasp.

“I want you,” Brian whispered. Suzanne sucked him back to full hardness with practiced ease.

“But you never would turn me, completely, into what I need to be?” she insisted.

“Suzanne, I can’t.” Again he began losing his erection. His shoulders ached.

“I was afraid of that,” she sighed. “Brian, I don’t want to lose you.”

Brian tensed, dreading what she would say next. Rather than speak, though, she transferred some small object she’d been holding in her left hand to her right, then he felt a sharp sting in his buttocks. He fumbled with the release mechanism on the cuffs, but by the time he had one hand free, Suzanne was standing with an empty syringe in hand. He stared at her, baffled.

“What... what did you do?” he asked.

“Brian, Brian, Brian,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I had to do this, but it’s better this way. You’ll see.”

“What was that?” he demanded.

She discarded the needle and climbed on top of him, rubbing against him in a way that he normally loved. Right now, though, his panic was stronger than his arousal, but after a few minutes he at least stopped struggling and submitted to her caresses.

“Brian,” she said at last. “That was something I got from Corina.” Suzanne’s older sister worked at Brian’s company, in a division with highly classified military contracts. It was through Corina that he’d met Suzanne

“Now that it’s had time to circulate, you will fully accept and believe whatever I tell you,” she explained. Brian found that, improbable as that claim might be, he did not doubt it.

“You’re just gonna lie there and listen to me for awhile, and I’m gonna explain things again.”

Brian decided to lie still and listen to Suzanne’s explanation.

She continued, “I want more than anything to be a hot, dumb, horny slut.” She shifted to the high-pitched voice. “A big-boobied airhead who just wants to suck and get fucked all day long and never has a serious thought in her little girly head.” She giggled. Brian knew this was true, of course.

“You want it too, Brian. You know that’s what I should be.” His heart raced. He had never been comfortable with this idea before, but he could not deny now that she was right.

“You can put me in my proper place, Brian. You’ll make me your hot, brainless bimboslut with huge boobies and long legs and a tight round bubble butt. Make me so that I’m always wet for you and I’m too stupid and horny to think about anything but, like, fashion and makeup and being used for your pleasure. You shouldn’t have respect for me; you should just want to fuck me.” Intellectually, Brian realized that this should have appalled him. He didn’t really let that bother him, though, as he began mentally reviewing the procedures he would use in the lab.

Another priority came first, though.

“You’re right, Suzislut,” he replied. “I’ll turn you into a good little bimbo, but right now you’ve got to suck my cock.”

She squealed and kissed him, then crawled down to take him in her mouth.

Eventually, he managed to get her to the lab. The place was nearly empty except for security staff on a Sunday. It took him a few hours of preliminary testing and work on the computers, but at last he had the procedure ready. Suzanne stood by, rapt with anticipation and giggling her encouragement. The preparations he had made would, applied over the course of the next six months, turn Suzanne, his svelte intellectual wife, into Suzi the hyperfeminine, dimwitted cumslut, altering her whole body, including her brain, on a cellular level.

Brian found his hands shaking. He suddenly felt very tired, and noticed that his head and stomach hurt. Even his vision began to blur. He struggled to focus on Suzanne’s smiling face.

“Do you have another shot of that stuff?” he asked her. She grinned and pulled a syringe from her purse. He took it from her and injected it in his arm with a sigh.

“Tell me again what you should be,” he said.