The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Scott Pringle sat up suddenly, shaking his head. He groaned softly, reaching for his glasses, sliding them on, bringing the room back into focus. His head still felt like a damp wet sponge had been shoved between his ears, but at least he’d been expecting it this time. A quick trip to the kitchen, and a cup of coffee would fix him right up. Yawning, he slid out of bed, slipped on his bedroom slippers, and made his way down the hallway towards his kitchen.

And nearly leaped through the ceiling at the site of the tall statuesque redhead standing at attention in his living room.

“Ah! Good morning, Sir,” Lizzie said softly, her eyes downcast to the floor. “You must be hungry. Would you like me to serve your breakfast now, Sir? Everything is ready and simmering on the stove, and the coffee should be just finishing up now.”

Scott blinked, taking off his glasses, wiping them clean, then slipping them back on. No, no illusion. No dream. The redheaded woman that had nearly choked him silly the previous afternoon was indeed standing in his apartment, dressed in a sexy French maid outfit, asking him if he wished for her to serve him breakfast. And probably poison me while she’s at it, or stab me with the silverware. What the heck is she doing here anyway— And like a flash, the events of the previous evening scrolled through his memory: arriving back home, trying to determine the exact effects of his serum, administering 10 cc’s intravenously with a syringe, staring into a mirror, watching as the physical changes came upon him... then, a snap inside his head, like a switch being turned, and he, or the other him, deciding to pay the evil bitch a call, track her down, and make her apologize for the way she’d acted.

And now I wake up to find her here, acting docile and submissive, dressed like and acting the role of my personal maid? he thought with a frown. Not that she didn’t deserve to be taken down a peg or two for how she acted... still, turning her into my maid is going a bit too far.

“Sir?”

Scott glanced up, blushing to find the girl still standing there, waiting on a response from him, while he was busy ruminating and woolgathering. Smiling slightly, he nodded. “Um, yes, um... thank you... yes. Breakfast would be... er... what did you... I mean, I didn’t have anything... in my, um, cupboards?” he finished lamely, still completely off kilter.

“I took the liberty of picking up a few supplies, Sir,” she answered meekly, still staring at the floor at her feet. “I hope you don’t mind. I wished to prepare you a suitable meal upon waking, so I did a little early morning shopping. I... I hope I haven’t overstepped my bounds?” she asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes with a mixture of hope and fear. Scott sighed inwardly. It just wasn’t in him to hurt any woman, no matter how badly they’d treated him.

“Um, yes, well... that sounds just great. And, um... if everything tastes as good as it smells... I’ll have no complaints,” he said lightly, making his way to the kitchen. He smiled at the sight. Not only was the table set with a full breakfast buffet, it had been cleaned and tidied, all the pots, and pans she’d used to cook the feast before him had been scrubbed clean and put back into their proper places. Part of him had been dreaded the cleanup for whatever she had put together, but like a true maid, the girl had done her job, and done it well. Sitting down at the table, he eagerly began filling his plate with food. Cutting a slice of a waffle dusted with powdered sugar, he was about to bite when he noticed the girl watching him from across the room.

“Um, aren’t you... going to eat anything?” he asked, frowning. “There’s more than enough food here for the both of us.”

Lizzie blushed, looking down. “No, Sir. It would be rude of... the hired help... to eat with the Master of the house. No, I will eat whatever is left over once you’ve had your fill.”

Scott sighed dramatically. This was becoming ridiculous. For the second time in two days he had woken up to find a beautiful young woman in his home, and neither time had he been able to fully enjoy it. “Look, um... um... Elizabeth? Please, sit down... I can’t enjoy myself with you there... just standing. Come, and eat with me... please?”

She looked up, doubt evident on her face. “If Sir is sure?” she asked, taking a single step forward.

“Yes, Sir is... I mean, me is... gah! I mean, yes, I am sure. Please, sit down and eat!”

Gracefully, the redheaded maid sat down across her Scott, and began filling her plate, daintily picking at her food, all the while sneaking glances up at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. After a while, the tension between them lessened, and she finally relaxed enough to truly enjoy the food they were sharing. Scott smiled, noticing the change in her demeanor.

“You know... this is really good. I’m um... something of a scientist... a chemist. I can tell you the chemical structure of the orange juice we’re drinking and even construct an accurate molecular model... but I can’t seem to even poach an egg without it turning into a blackened charred mess.”

Lizzie smiled slightly. “It’s not that hard. Truly... I’m no great cook or anything... but I sometimes make breakfast in bed for my girl... for my girl...” She blinked, and shook her head. “For Mistress Karen,” she corrected herself a moment later, nodding softly to herself. “Yes... Mistress. She loves it when I pamper her with breakfast in bed. It’s funny though.... you’d think Mistress would have me doing that sort of thing for her all the time... instead of just on special occasions...” She shrugged. “At any rate, I figured it out with a lot of trial and effort. It’s more of a hobby than a science.”

Scott nodded, fascinated. “Interesting. I would think cooking a satisfying meal would be extremely complicated. I mean, there are just so many different variable to consider... all the thousands and thousands of combinations of ingredients, condiments, spices... and the actual cooking itself, the variations in temperature, and cooking time...” He stopped as Lizzie began to laugh.

“Oh, sorry, Sir,” she said giggling, “It’s just... you are making it a lot harder than it needs to be. Everything doesn’t have to have a specific and set formula. Some of the best chefs in the world cook by feeling alone, adding a pinch of this and a dash of that, tasting it a bit as they cook to decide if it needs more of this or less of that. Cooking isn’t science, it’s... I don’t know... spontaneous. Even if two cooks use the exact same ingredients in the exact same amounts, they can still make two completely different tasting dishes.”

Scott nodded again. “Wow. I never considered it that way. I suppose cooking supports the Universal Chaos theory Farnsworth and some of the others are always going on and on about... that even in a closed environment, random unforeseen occurrences can still change what should be an expected outcome in unforeseen ways.” Lizzie merely grinned.

They continued to talk and eat together, almost like old friends. Scott, for the very first time, found himself relaxed and comfortable enough to talk without stuttering in the presence of a woman besides his mother. Lizzie, for her part, was beginning to realize down deep that the man she’d ridiculed as a wimp and a pussy was, underneath the nerdy exterior, a really nice person. Guilt gnawed at her for the way that she’d acted, and despite Mistress’ insistence that she make it up to him by serving as his maid for the day, she found that she really, truly, DID want to apologize to him for the way that she’d acted.

“Well, that was great,” Scott said with a deep sigh of satisfaction. “I can’t remember when I’ve eaten that well. I’m glad it’s Sunday... after a meal like this, I almost want to go back to bed and take a nap.” Yawning, he stood up, reaching out for his plate to take it to the sink, when Lizzie reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Sir! Leave the dishes to your humble maid,” she said with downcast eyes, pulling him gently but firmly away from the table. “Sir,” she began hesitantly, “I... I... I must apologize to you. For the way I treated you the other day... for the horrible things I said.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping down. “I was acting like a crazy bitch. And... there’s no excuse. What happened wasn’t even your fault. I’m... I’m sorry...”

“It’s okay, Liz,” Scott said gently. “I forgive you. It’s... water under the bridge, okay? Don’t even let it bother you.”

“No,” she said strongly shaking her head. She took a few steps back, then turned, facing the wall. “What I did to you, Sir, was wrong. I was a... a bad girl. And bad girls deserve to be punished.” Taking a deep breath, she leaning into the wall, reaching back to grab the hem of her short black skirt, revealing a bare ass with no panties. “Please Sir,” she said in a soft lusty voice, “I need to be punished for my misdeeds. Only Sir can teach his naughty little maid the error of her ways.”

Scott’s jaw nearly hit the ground. “Um... ex... excuse m-m-me?” he stuttered, suddenly nervous again. “You... you want me to... I supposed to.. you want me to... to...”

“Punish me,” she replied with a small smile, wiggling her ass enticingly. “Spank me. Paddle my sexy little bum until I beg you for mercy, then show me none. Discipline me, Sir... beat my sweet little behind to make me feel all the hurt and pain and embarrassment I inflicted on you the day before. Be vicious. Be cruel. Be aggressive. Show me that you’re not the wimp I accused you of. Prove to me that you’re not a big pussy. Teach me a lesson, Professor,” she moaned, her own words seriously turning her on. She stuck her tight sexy ass out even further, rubbing her thighs together as her juices began to run down the side of her legs. “Make me beg and scream, and cry like I’ve never cried before!”

Good God, Scott thought to himself, nearly feeling faint. What the hell did my other side do to her? The first time we met, she was a tough, outspoken, take-no-prisoners woman, the kind who wouldn’t take shit from anyone! And he turned her into a demure, meek, submissive, pain slut! He shook his head. He couldn’t deny the fact he was definitely responding to scenario unfolding before him; if his pants were any tighter, he would be cutting off the circulation to his feet. Physical responses aside, he had serious moral problems with what Buddy had done to the girl’s psyche. I can’t let this poor woman stay this way. Maybe I talk some sense into her... convince her that this isn’t really her, and remind her of the way she used to be before she met Buddy...

Lizzie, however, had decided to up the ante a bit more. Seeing her ‘boss’ struck with indecision, she stepped away from the wall, moving close to him. “Does Sir need more convincing?” she whispered softly, reaching down to the crotch of his pants. Scott squealed, jerking slightly as her small but strong hand found his manhood and squeezed gently. “Oooh... I see Sir is interested after all,” she cooed, feeling a momentary sense of wrongness, only to lose it in the flood of pleasure filling her at the thought of him punishing her for her directness. “Maybe, Sir just needs,” she whispered, squeezing again, “a tiny little... push”

Scott fell back into the kitchen chair, feeling stunned, not sure exactly when he’d lost control of the situation, but uncertain whether or not he truly wanted it back. Lizzie’s hands were at his waist again, uncoupling his leather belt, and unzipping his pants. His cock, already hard, sprang up into view, and she paused, frowning, staring at it in shock. This was definitely out of her comfort zone, and she hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do exactly. Then, a voice in the back of her head whispered soft assurances to her, and she unfroze, pushing aside her concerns. She wasn’t putting his cock inside her, after all. She was only freeing it, allowing it to rub and grind against her as she received her long awaited spanking, allowing him to enjoy the experience as much as she was about to. It was still confined in his ‘tidy whities’ after all—it wouldn’t even be touching her. And there was nothing wrong with the both of them enjoying this experience to the fullest.

“Lizzie,” Scott managed to say in the brief moment of hesitation, before Lizzie lowered herself into his lap. “Wait! You... you’re a lesbian! This isn’t... I can’t... you don’t really want this... not like this... do you?”

“Relax, Sir,” she said, reassuring himself, as well as herself, as she settled into place, grinding herself into his thighs, feeling the long thick lump rubbing idly against her silk covered stomach. “This isn’t about sex. It’s about discipline. It’s about putting me in my place. It’s about punishing me for being a naughty girl... something that will teach me a lesson, but that I will also enjoy very much. And if I am enjoying my... punishment.... it’s only fair that you enjoy it too.”

Scott could only nod in confusion, then groan softly as the woman in his lap continued to wiggle and grind into him, forcing his pants further down his legs. “Please Sir,” she whispered softly in a high pitched little-girl voice. “Won’t you please spank my hot little bum for me? I’m so exposed and helpless like this... and I can’t get down until I’ve been... properly punished? Oh please, Sir?” she said, biting lightly on her pinkie. “Won’t you help me?”

Raising his hand, he shrugged. Well... if she puts it that way... and I do want to help her after all... He brought his hand down in a hard slap, causing the soft while bums to jiggle momentarily. “Aaaaahhhhhh!” Lizzie squealed, then moaned, as the pain transformed into a blistering heat that seemed to burn straight through to the center of her clit. “Ooohhh... mmmmm. Yes... Please Sir, may I have another?” A second swat was met with equal fervor, and Lizzie rocked back and forth in his lap, treating his manhood to an incredible silken massage. Each additional swat increased his pleasure, and lessened his moral outrage, until he was soon slapping the dickens out of her rosy red rump, heedless of her discomfort, whispering encouragements to the stricken girl to ‘take it like a slut’ and to ‘beg for mercy, you wanton little bitch’.

“Oooohh gaawdd... punish meeeeeeeee!!” Lizzie screamed, arching her back, thrusting her rear end upwards as a staggering orgasm ripped through her. Scott, likewise, groaned deeply, grabbing and squeezing her buttocks tightly as he came as well, erupting deeply onto the folds of her French cut silken dress. Both of them moaned and sighed, breathing hard, simply basking in the afterglow for several moments, before reality crept back into prominence. Blushing hotly, Lizzie slid out of Scott’s lap, and straightened her clothes as best she could, rubbing at the spreading stain on the front of her dress. “Um... if you will excuse me, Sir,” she said demurely, eyes downcast once more, “I need to go to the bathroom... to... um... freshen up...” With that, she turned and made a quick exit, leaving Scott sitting there with his pants around his ankles.

Okay. Additions to my notes from the previous day, Scott thought to himself, as he scribbled into his small pocket notebook. The serum does more than simply trigger an altered physical state of being. It also causes a mental and psychological change as well. In that altered state, I am still recognizably myself, but a sort of... idealized version of myself. The other me is strong, suave, confident, and completely at ease with those around him, be it man or woman. Further, he seems to act in a completely different manner than I would... the darker, more repressed parts of my psyche being the dominant parts of his. Buddy is, in essence, a completely different entity... a separate persona, the manifestation of my Id. He frowned slightly, considering.

He glanced at the rack of books on his shelf, pausing to stare at one specific title at length. Hmm. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. An eerie parallel, I’d have to say. I wouldn’t exactly consider Buddy a ‘monster’, but considering what he did to those students, and Elizabeth and her lover, it might be safer to do more research on the biological effects of that serum before I take it again. I seem to remember some Professor up north experimenting with pheromones as well, and it didn’t end well at all... screwed up a couple of his students and lost his job. He scowled. Damn. I should probably go to the hospital and get some blood samples taken and analyzed. My old college roommate Louis Greenfield should be working in the trauma center this afternoon...maybe he can arrange it for me.

Nodding to himself. he closed his notebook, and placed it back into his front shirt pocket with his pens, and left his bedroom. He started as he stepped into the hallway, having momentarily forgotten he was not alone. “Ah, um... Lizzie?” he began, as she looked up at him, then lowered her eyes to the floor. He really did need to speak to one of his colleagues in the Psychology Department to figure out if there was some way of getting the poor girl some kind of help. “How long... I mean... when are you... uh... does your... your... is Karen expecting you back, um... home... anytime soon?”

“Mistress instructed me to stay here and serve as your maid and personal valet until midnight, or until you send me away, whichever came first.”

“Oh! Then by all means, you can...” He paused, considering. I suppose I could take her to the hospital with me, and have a blood test taken of her as well. It would probably help to see what physiological effects have taken place in her as a result to exposure to Buddy. It might even help in freeing her from whatever spell he put her under. “Um... you said... valet? Then would you agree to accompany me on an... an outing?” She nodded. “Good. Then, um... please change clothes into... um... something more appropriate for a day on the town?”

“Of course, Sir, I shall change right away,” she said, curtseying slightly, before heading into the bathroom. Scott sighed with relief. He’d half expected her to protest at being dragged along with him. Shrugging, he went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Yoo-hoo. He was still pretty stuffed from breakfast, but he knew from experience that when it came to hospitals, a ten minute procedure might end up taking two hours. Sliding the bottle into his coat pocket, he walked over to the living room window, and peered outside.

Wait... what the heck? That car... is it Lizzie’s? No... she was driving a that black SUV. Where the heck did that cherry red BMW 6 convertible come from—oh. Oh no. Of course... Buddy! Dammit! It’s not that I can’t afford something like that as a rental until my own car is repaired—ten years salary and dividends from a couple of patents, with only a few minor purchases over the years means I have a pretty nice little nest egg saved up. It’s... it’s just the principle of the thing! I’m just not the kind to go driving around in a big bright flashy car... but apparently my dark side is. Crap. Oh well... I guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it, at least for today.

All too soon, Lizzie emerged, dressed in the black dress she’d worn the night before, and the two of them departed for the hospital. Despite their earlier camaraderie during breakfast, and the... ‘not-quite’ intimacy they’d shared afterwards, Scott felt extremely uneasy around the redhead. He kept glancing at her now and again from the corner of his eye, and suspected that she was doing the same when he wasn’t looking at her. A palpable tension filled car, and it was all Scott could do to keep driving and make his way to the hospital.

“Um... are you... taking me home, Sir?” Lizzie asked as they pulled up to a stop light.

“What?” Scott asked, more stunned by the fact that she’d spoke than the actual question. “What, ah, did you, um... say?”

“I asked if you were... taking me home, Sir? Mistress Karen’s and my condo is just down the street on the left.” She swallowed. “I... I tried my best to serve you as a maid, Sir. I know I am... new at this... but I really did try my hardest to be a good maid.” Scott glanced at her, surprised to see tears in her eyes. “If you feel the need to... to send me back early... because I made you uncomfortable with my, um... punishment... or I failed to... to live up to your expectations... I mean... I could do better, Sir! I really could...”

Dammit. Now I went and made her cry. “NO! No, I mean... I wasn’t... you didn’t disappoint at all... You were... great! Wonderful even! If anything, you did too good of a job... cooking and cleaning... I, um... don’t have anything left for you to do... and I have a few errands to run in town.” Seeing her tremulous smile, he sighed. “Come on... I’ll take you back home... and tell your Mistress what a great little maid you were for me.” As the light turned green, he changed into the turning lane and swung left.

Half an hour later, Scott pulled away from the hospital parking lot, alone, feeling physically and emotionally drained. Not used to interacting with people very much, he’d done his best to convince Karen of how pleased he was in Elizabeth’s performance of her duties. He felt uncomfortable being around the two of them at all; not that they were lesbian lovers, but that they were so overt in the roles that Buddy had placed them in. Karen seemed more amused by his stumbling, halting speech than the actual words he was speaking, and he had the distinct impression that only the fact that he was a male had kept her from dragging him into the back room and making him her newest submissive.

Circling slowly around the lot, he reached into his pocket, taking out the bottle of Yoo-hoo, taking a quick drink. Not having realized how thirsty he was, he quickly drained the bottle, letting out a satisfied burp. Ah. Good ol’ Yoo-hoo. Nothing quite satisfies and raises the spirits like that sweet magical drink from my youth. Setting the empty bottle aside, he turned up the volume on his radio as it began playing a familiar tune. Laughing softly, he began singing along with Weird Al.

“I’m nerdy in the extreme,”

“Whiter than sour cream,”

“I was in AV club, and Glee Club, and even the Chess team.”

“Only question I ever thought was hard,”

“Was do I like Kirk, or do I like Picard?”

“Spent every week at the Renaissance Fair,”

“Got my name on my underwear...”

“They see me strolling... they laughing...”

“And rolling their eyes ‘cause I’m so White and Nerdy,”

“Just because I’m white and nerdy,”

“Just because I’m white and nerdy,”

“All because I’m white and nerdy,”

“Holy Cow, I’m white and nerdy...”

A bright flash distracted Scott, and he closed his eyes, feeling a wave of dizziness overcome him. He hit the brakes, clutching the steering wheel tightly, as a sudden warmth seemed to fill him, coming from the pit of his stomach, spreading outward, filling his entire being. The feeling of vertigo increased almost to the point of pain... then vanished completely.

Buddy reached over, shaking his head with disgust, and switched the radio to a different station. He chuckled drily as a different song began to play, singing along, idly working his hips as he drove.

“When I walk in the spot, this is what I see,”

“Everybody stops and they staring at me,”

“I got passion in my pants, and I ain’t afraid to show it, show it, show it, show it...”

“I’m sexy and I know it!”

“I’m sexy and I know it! Yeah! Yeah!”

“I’m sexy and I Know it... check it out!”

“Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah!”

“Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah!”

“Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah!”

“Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah yeah!”

“Ugh! I do the wiggle, man!! Yeah!”

“I do the wiggle man—”

“Yeah... I’m sexy and I know it...”

Chuckling again, Buddy reached down beneath the dashboard, pulling out the pair of Ray Ban’s, tossing the thick rimmed glasses into a pocket before slipping the sunglasses over his eyes. Glancing up at himself in the mirror, he wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, Buddy. You are definitely sexy. Too sexy to spend your day in some stuffy hospital waiting on a bunch of boring tests results.” Switching the car into gear, he pulled out of the parking lot, and drove back onto the main road, merging smoothly into traffic. “Sorry Professor, but THIS ‘little buddy’ is escaping from the Island, and heading out to find Ginger and Maryanne...and depending on how things go, maybe even Mrs. Howell.”