The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alexandra lit a cigarette and gazed at the night sky. It was cold, almost as cold as her mood. With both the Colonel and Timothy still out of commission and the General dealing with one bureaucratic nightmare after the other, she was ready to—at least try to—unwind a bit before resuming the investigation. Not up to driving, she called her next-door neighbor and helpless hypnoslave Patrick Davenport.

The plastic surgeon arrived in his black Tesla Model X less than ten minutes later, his clothes in utmost disarray. He was sound asleep when the phone rang, dreaming of being used as a footstool once again. Now, he was just pretending to be awake, content to be of actual service to his one true Goddess.

“I’m here as instructed, my sweet enchantress.” He muttered, dreamily.

“Took you long enough!” She countered to check if he was deep enough.

“You are correct as always,” he lowered his gaze in shame. “I will do better next time, I promise.”

“You better...” she smirked before patting him on the head. Mewling, he rose from his seat to open the passenger’s door.

“Where to, Goddess?”

“Home, of course.” She sauntered to her seat. “This day has been going on long enough.”

“That bad, huh?” He retorted.

“One of the worst—if not the very worst—in recent memory.” She muttered, leaning against the window. “Not that you know what ‘recent memory’ means, of course.”

Patrick froze in front of the car, his vision blurry. The amnesia trigger was a recent one, but it worked like a charm every single time. Stupefied, he wondered what he was doing there in the first place until their eyes met once more and she released him with the words:

“Good boy. Back to your duties.”

“Yes, Goddess.” He returned to the driver’s seat.

Patrick was hers for about a year now, although it certainly felt longer than that. During that time, he had assumed many roles. Personal cook was his favorite but he could never say no to her other inclinations whether that meant wearing panties and stockings underneath his formal attire whenever he went to work or suffer in extreme bondage by her bed as she slept. Sometimes, he had glimpses of making out with an older man that happened to be her ‘boss’ but they never stayed in his memory for long even with no other suggestions. He was sure there were other things too until she told him otherwise, for her word was law and he was always wrong. Being a Goddess was hard enough. He had no right to make things any more difficult by thinking about dumb things.

“Is there anything I can do to make your journey home more pleasant?”

“You may keep quiet and simply drive, understood?”

“Yes, Goddess.”

It wasn’t the first time he was driving in a state of trance. It probably wouldn’t be the last either. The overall sensation was awkward, as if he was floating and drowning at the same time. Ghostly people walked by and he waved, not really knowing why. Lights shimmered with an iridescent haze and the traffic signs wobbled when he looked at them but there was no real danger to himself or anyone else. Despite acting like an indifferent bitch, Alexandra was always keeping a close look on his reaction times, ready to snap him out of it.

“Are you feeling comfortable?” She asked, touching his left temple. “Do you need to come up just a little, feel more aware of yourself?”

“No, I’m okay.” He replied, her soothing voice reassuring his conscious and subconscious mind that was indeed the case. Throughout the whole journey, Patrick kept a steady hand on the wheel, a genuine smile on his lips. There was no better feeling in the world than being utterly submissive to her.

“Well done.” She said the moment he parked the car outside her house. Even if she didn’t say it often, he was one of the best subjects she had ever worked with. He was always ready to please her even when the mood wasn’t right.

Reclining his head against the leather seat, his breathing slowing down, he asked: “Are you proud of me, Goddess?”

“Don’t get carried away, slave. Don’t you know what they say about pride?”

“It will always be the longest distance between two people.” He acknowledged.

“Exactly. And you want me close by, don’t you? You want me deep inside your mind, telling you what you can and can’t do, changing how you see the world, one kink at a time. Would you really risk losing all of that because of something so insidious and insignificant as pride?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Anything for you, Alexandra.” He sighed.

“Then you have permission to entertain me for a bit before I go to bed. Unless you don’t think you’re up for the job tonight, that is.”

His head ambled to look at her. The challenge was a trap as always, another way to cement her control over his thoughts. He loved going deeper and so he would, no matter what.

“What would you have me do?”

“Crawl all the way to the entrance for starters. Why should a slave walk upright when that’s the natural right of real people?” She smirked. “Be a proud little beast for me and don’t forget to wag your imaginary tail.”

He didn’t. It had been ages since the last time the animal spirit kicked in, usually a dog or a trusty steed. Public play was a first though, but there was no one around to watch, anyway. Closing the driver’s door behind him, Patrick assumed his rightful position and trailed behind his owner, only regretting the fact he had no collar on him this time around. Alexandra stopped by the door to examine her mindfucked property and said:

“Before you go inside, proper worship is in order.” She pointed at her feet. “Kiss.”

Patrick lowered his head to the ground and brushed the soles of her sandals with his nose before gently placing a kiss on each toe. The tip of his tongue tried its luck only to get a severe reprimand as reward.

“Keep that slobbery thing to yourself, pet! Try that again and I’ll punish you so hard you won’t even know what hit you!”

Patrick’s cock stirred and he moaned once again. The meaner the better, he would take it for her. As she opened the door, he rushed inside, even more excited at what was to come. He stopped at the center of the living room after a vigorous kick in the balls.

“Strip!” She commanded.

The first thing he removed were his black suede shoes, followed by the half-assed shirt and the starched blue jeans. The white boxers underneath weren’t so white anymore, a beautiful and warm stain of pre-cum radiating from the tip of his leaking cock.

“Look at that! I don’t remember giving you permission to do that, did I?”

“You didn’t, Goddess. Apologies, but you’re so...”

“Arousing? Enticing? Tempting? I’m that and so much more. That’s why I’m in charge and you have no choice but do everything I say.”

“Yes, Alexandra.” He meekly replied.

“Slave, my day was indeed awful and I need to vent. I won’t be able to sleep properly if I don’t release the accumulated tension everywhere, so you know what that means... I’m going to hurt you and I’m going to hurt you bad. Wait here on your hands and knees, head facing downwards. You are not allowed to look up again unless instructed otherwise. Don’t dare move a muscle until I get back.”

“Yes, Alexandra.”

Patrick remained stationary, eyes closed. It took all his mental fortitude not to shiver. Imagination ran rampant as to what sort of pain she had in mind. While it would be easy to plant the seed of another terrifying, humiliating experience the likes of which he had never felt before, he suspected she really wanted to get physical and her implement collection was legendary. As patiently as possible, he waited for a spiked paddle to destroy his ass.

Meanwhile, Special Agent David Simms was struggling to keep his eyes shut. Flashbacks of the craziness of the day left behind constantly assaulted his pupils, interspersed with Alexandra’s antics and dubious intents. It was enough to drive anyone crazy, even an upright man who always believed to be in control of every situation. Of course, if that were true, he wouldn’t have been dragged into the mouth of hypnotic madness as easily as he was.

It was all so ludicrous and impossible, yet so fucking real at the same time. Both Colonel Gibbons and Timothy Henderson’s normal personas had been warped into something unrecognizable, obsessive drooling masses of vicious brainwashing, doomed to feel pain if they strayed off of the path deliberately chosen by their programmers. Puppets can be fun under the right circumstances but not human-sized flesh ones who only remember what they have been told to remember and do things they would never dream of doing if they had any choice in the matter.

After tossing and turning in bed for more than an hour, he finally succumbed to the need to blow off some steam. Phone in hand, he called Peter and his partner was happy to help.

“Sorry I woke you up.” Simms began.

“Hey, that’s okay. It’s good to hear from you. Is everything okay?”

“Not really.” David looked at the ceiling, a web of shadows lurking by the lamp as if it were checking him out. He glanced down again lest the paranoia suddenly became real.

“I can imagine. Things were pretty hectic at the Bureau after what happened. The phones rang all the time.”

“They were the same where I was until recently. These people, Peter... these people are powerful. And dangerous.”

“Are you at liberty to discuss any significant details as to what is actually going on?”

“I wish I was. It’s... complicated. Too complicated, actually.”

“What can I do to help then?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know why I called you. I guess I’m still trying to process my feelings.”

David could hear his partner adjust himself in his bed. He also heard the thinly disguised fajita fart whistling away, but offered no funny remark. “I’m no shrink but if it’s feelings you want to talk about, then shoot.”

“None of this makes any sense, you know? It would have been a lot easier if we were dealing with regular perps, but we’re not.”

“You just said ‘perps’. I thought we were just talking about the Colonel here. There’s more than one?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, sorry.”

“Okay, now I know you’re really fucked up.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you never apologize, David. That’s not who you are. Is it just the eeriness of the case that’s getting to you or is it someone else?”

“There’s nothing going on with Alexandra if that’s what you’re implying.”

“And yet, you just choked.” Peter noted. “You also hesitated back at the safe house.”

“We all hesitated then. That’s what started this whole mess.” He gnarled.

“I know, I assume my fair share of the responsibility. I would also share your current burden if I could. Perhaps...”

“Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps you could arrange for that to happen now that you’re inside?”

“I’m not ‘inside’. I’m just a collateral. I don’t have any leverage to do that and even if I did...”

“You don’t want me around.”

“Trust me, after what I’ve seen already, you’re better sitting this one out. There’s one thing you can do for me though.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“Be on your guard.” David said.

“Why the sudden ominous tone?”

“Just because, okay? It’s not just my brain acting out at the moment. My guts are also telling me that a lot of bad shit is about to go down.”

“Okay, I trust you, but you have to promise to do the same. We’re partners, dare I even say friends?”

“Yes, Peter. We certainly are. I have to go now. Lots of work ahead if I’m able to get some sleep.”

“Call me again if you need anything.”

“Will do, thanks.”

The call went dead but not his insecurities. Now that he had seen the hidden side of the depravities of the world, it was hard to go back pretending they weren’t there. The shadows on the ceiling moved again, creeping ever closer to the wall. They didn’t need to descend into his mind for they were already there. Unwinding was an impossible dream, but tiredness had a word to say. He buried his enervated head under the pillow and waited for slumber to come.