The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Evelyn was on her knees again, taking in her programming like a good slave. It was getting easier and easier to tune out the words as they came into her mind. She’d heard all these scripts so many times before; in the beginning, she had even chosen some of them with Carol. But even the ones Carol had come up with herself were familiar to Evelyn now, after spending countless hours with them.

Since moving in with Carol, the programming had become more intense. When Carol was home, she dedicated a substantial amount of time to programming Evelyn directly, but when Evelyn was alone in the house, she’d set up ways for her to continue the programming herself. They were similar to some of the things Carol had had Evelyn do before they were living together, on her own time. But back then, Evelyn’s conditioning had been much less far along, and it hadn’t felt so intense as it did now.

Evelyn’s private life had undergone an extreme shift when she’d moved in with Carol. It was now mostly taken up by the duties of her slavery. But Evelyn did still maintain a life in the outside world. She’d been working part-time before she’d met Carol at a bookstore, and she’d kept her job for the time being. Even if she was happy to allow slavery to consume more and more of her free time, she wasn’t quite ready to commit to a 24/7 existence.

She still met with friends and other acquaintances, still kept an active social life. But sometimes, when she was out among friends, she would cross her legs in her seat, to keep back a spike of pleasure at the thought that none of them knew how she spent her time at home. It was a thrilling secret to keep.

Now, Evelyn was kneeling, naked, on the carpet in the living room. Kneeling, as a slave always did when they were ordered to. The curtains were drawn, but she was oblivious to them. She was blind to her surroundings. Her attention was focused entirely on watching the tv screen mounted to the wall, which was displaying an endlessly looping, color-shifting spiral.

As she watched, at the same time, her mind was soaking in the words that came in through the speakers around the room. If she really tried, she was still able to hear the words themselves. Carol always said that someday it wouldn’t be like that anymore. She often didn’t bother, though. She knew what they were saying. It was just so much easier to switch her mind off, and let the words slip in, unnoticed by conscious thought. They were doing her job whether she noticed them or not— taking her further into the depths of obedience, circling around the same truths to burn them into her mind.

It differed from day to day, but sometimes Evelyn was also instructed to pleasure herself to enhance the programming. Sometimes Carol provided her toys to use. Sometimes she asked that Evelyn do it manually. Today was one of those times— as the spiral filled her vision, and the well-worn mantras of obedience coated her mind, Evelyn’s hand moved mindlessly between her legs, circling in time with the image on the tv screen.

It was one well-tuned process, and Evelyn was only an instrument in it. The spiral spun, the mantras played, her hand moved, and everything flowed into and out of everything else. The end product was pleasure, and always more of it— because by sitting, for hours, and allowing herself to be more deeply programmed, Evelyn was obeying. And the reward for obeying was always pleasure. And the more programming she absorbed, the more she obeyed, the more pleasure she received.

It was a fourth piece in the cycle, the flow of pleasure. It never achieved an end— Evelyn had been conditioned enough that she couldn’t find her release without Carol’s instruction— but that wasn’t the point. The point was pleasure, as an end in itself, because the pleasure helped the programs hook deeper into Evelyn’s mind, which helped her to obey even more. It was all working perfectly as designed. It always did.

But Evelyn was kicked out of the familiarity of her routine only a minute later. There was a new command, one she’d never heard before— and it was suddenly much easier to focus on what she was listening. This was new, this was foreign— she couldn’t easily tune it out.

“You want to share your slavery with Angela. You want to show her how good it feels to be a slave for pleasure.”

It was so bizarre to Evelyn that it almost completely ripped her out of trance. She kept her ears perked up, waiting to see if it would repeat, but instead Evelyn’s regular mantras returned and started looting again. She listened, on edge, for at least a solid 15 minutes to see if the strange new command would come back around, but it never repeated.

Even after she was fairly sure she wasn’t going to hear the command again, the experience of conditioning herself was ruined for the day. The insertion of the new order left a sour taste in her mouth, and instead of resuming what she’d been doing before, Evelyn stood, and shut off the tv and the sound system. Then she went upstairs to dress herself. She wouldn’t condition herself any further until she’d had a conversation with Carol.

As Evelyn put clothes back on her body, she couldn’t help but feel puzzled in thinking over what had happened. Carol had never, in all the time they’d been engaged in their relationship, slipped a mantra into Evelyn’s programming without talking it over with her first. The most she ever did was introduce new mantras that were along the same lines as ones they’d already both agreed on, just to play around with phrasing, or increase the total number of scripts. This was definitely a first.

Evelyn smoothed her clothes a little more carefully into place, and looked herself over once more in the mirror.

She would definitely be raising this with Carol when she saw her again.

When Carol got home, Evelyn was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine. Carol paused in the doorway, as if surprised to find Evelyn clothed, on the couch and reading. Often, Carol came home to find Evelyn on the floor, deep in submissive bliss, and she was the one who had to turn the tv off. And Evelyn wearing clothes inside the house was becoming a rarer and rarer sight as time went on.

Evelyn noticed Carol’s freeze, and took it as her cue to set her magazine to the side. She looked up to Carol, and gave her a welcoming smile. “How was your day?”

Carol only looked at her.

“I turned the tv off myself, and got dressed, because I think we need to have a conversation,” Evelyn offered as explanation.

“Alright,” Carol said, stepping deeper into the living room. “What did you want to talk about?” She took a seat on the smaller loveseat which was at a right angle from the couch.

“I noticed you slipped a new script in with the rest of my mantras,” Evelyn began, in a measured tone of voice.

Carol crossed one leg over the other. “Right.”

“I’d like you to take it out. If it was a joke, I didn’t find it funny. If it wasn’t a joke, it’s not okay.”

Carol considered her. “And what was your problem with it exactly?”

Evelyn stared. “Um— I’m sorry— how can you not see why I would have a problem with it?”

Carol said nothing, leaving her to go on.

“This thing we do… with the brainwashing, and the conditioning… it’s really enjoyable for me. And for you too, I think. But I chose this… I thought about it a long time before we ever got together. It’s a thing that I like— it doesn’t mean other people would like it, or that other people should be forced into it.”

Carol tilted her head. “And how do you know Angela wouldn’t like it? Maybe she’s been thinking about it too— maybe she would choose, just like you did.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Angela is my oldest and closest friend. I would know if that was something she was into. I used to tell her I was into this; we had pretty frank discussions about our sex lives. She’s not into it. So the only way Angela would be part of something like this is if she was programmed into it against her will. Which is not okay!”

Carol nodded. “I thought you’d have a response like this. That’s fine. You’ll break down and do what I want in the end anyway.” There was a note of finality in Carol’s voice, as if she now considered the conversation closed.

Evelyn blanched. “Excuse me— what?”

She gave a shrug. “You’re far enough under my influence. Consciously, there may be enough independence left that you want to resist, but we’ve been programming you for a long time, now. You crave my control. You can’t quit it cold turkey; you won’t break it off with me over this. So we’ll go on conditioning you, I’ll use this script more and more often, and inevitably you’ll change your mind, and be onboard with this.”

There was a growing sense of fear in Evelyn’s gut. This was a side of Carol she had never seen before, and she did not like it. “This is a huge violation of trust— how could you want to do this? How could you want to force me to do something I find morally abhorrent? The only reason I ever opened my mind to you was because I trusted you. This is how you repay that?”

Carol leaned back against the sofa, letting one arm rest along the armrest. Her fingers curled around the edge of it, tapping first in one order, then reversing and tapping back in the opposite order. She gave a slow smile. “Yes, that is how I repay that. You were craving pretty extreme enslavement— I’ve given that to you. But you are my slave. This isn’t a game. It doesn’t matter what you think of my instructions to you. Ultimately, you will obey. That’s what slaves do— and that’s what you are.”

She said it like it was such a simple thing, like it so easily resolved the issue. Evelyn shook her head. “No— I never committed— we play at it, but you know I’m not ready to commit to doing it all the time, forever—”

Now it was Carol’s turn to roll her eyes. “It’s only a matter of time. You were never satisfied by pretending slavery, or pretending obedience. You were never satisfied, until we started doing the real thing. And you’ve got a ravenous appetite for it. That’s where things are heading for you, even if you aren’t consciously ready to accept it.”

“But why—” Evelyn’s voice faltered. She tried again, her voice quieter this time. “Why Angela?”

Carol gave Evelyn a more focused look. “You might have been under the impression that I was only doing this for you. I’m not. As much as you enjoy being enslaved, I enjoy doing the enslaving. And the most satisfying point in any process of enslavement is when you have proof, when you know that you have gained complete ownership of a person. And the best proof of that is if you can make them betray their own values. Why Angela? Angela, because she’s your closest friend. Angela, because she is possibly your favorite person, and you would never willingly betray her. So I will make you betray her— and you will, because that is how thoroughly I own you.”

Evelyn swallowed. It felt like the bottom had fallen out of her stomach. It was immoral, it was horrifying… and yet part of her wanted to betray herself, and betray her best friend. Because Carol was right— Evelyn craved her control, and even hearing her describe it in such terms was at least partly turning her on. She could feel the pleasure licking to life low in her body even as she sat there.

“I won’t— I’ll resist you.” Her voice sounded feeble to her own ears.

Carol leaned forward on the couch, to stand. “I expect you to. But it doesn’t matter to me either way. The end result will be the same.”

She left Evelyn behind her in the room, to fear that it was true.

The next day, Evelyn vowed to herself that she would do no self-programming. She would do nothing to help Carol’s plan. It would be easy enough. She’d just have to make sure not to start the conditioning playing.

Carol, however, seemed to anticipate this. On her way out the door in the morning, she stopped by the tv and set it up to play. “Have fun resisting,” she said, and pressed a kiss to Evelyn’s cheek.

The door closed behind Carol, but it only took Evelyn a few seconds of listening to hear that the frequency of the new script had been upped. She promptly left the living room. Even standing, and hearing her programming cycle play made her long to drop to her knees and lose herself in it.

The easy solution was to avoid the living room— to stay in the kitchen, or stay upstairs in the bedroom. Even going back to turn it off would be too risky.

But the easiest solution was easier said than done. Evelyn sat in the kitchen, and thought of kneeling in the living room, and submitting herself to Carol’s conditioning again. She thought of it, and found herself lubricating.

When the temptation of the living room was too much, she dressed and went for a walk to get out of the house. She left her mind behind her when she left, obsessing over the temptation she was trying to escape.

She stayed out for much longer than she had any justification for. She tried running a few errands while avoiding home, but ran through them much sooner than she hoped to.

When finally she did get back home, even though she made sure to re-enter through the back door, she could still hear the programming cycle playing muffled through the walls between her and the living room.

And maybe it was the weight of resisting temptation over the course of an entire day, but she finally felt that she couldn’t hold out any longer. She stripped in the kitchen, went down the hall, and took her place on the floor.

When Carol got home, it was only an hour later. Evelyn told her so, as she was mentally resurfacing. And privately, she told herself it was only a set back. She could keep it from happening again.

Carol turned off the tv in the living room for Evelyn as usual. She did it with a knowing smile on her face.

The pattern that followed in the next weeks was similar to that first day. There were some days on which Evelyn was able to hold out for the entire days by sheer force of will. Sometimes she was able to hold onto that determination even without needing to leave the house.

But there were other days on which she collapsed into position after only an hour or two of resisting.

The times she felt her resolve crumbling disturbed her, because of how easily it went, and because of the pleasure she was rewarded with. All the mechanics were the same as they had been the rest of Evelyn’s time as a slave. But the stakes were higher now— and there was something upsetting to her about the way she flooded with pleasure and self-satisfaction from obeying when the instruction she was obeying, the plan she was helping to actualize, was so awful.

The worst thing was the way she felt the idea growing in her mind. Slowly at first, and then more as time went on. Thinking of luring Angela into a trance— fantasizing about it. Finding it spike her pleasure higher, as she heard it described over the speakers in the room, and masturbating in time with it. At first, in spite of the message playing for her, and the images she couldn’t help but picture, and then because of them.

Each time it happened, each time she failed and gave in, she swore to herself anew that she would resist. And she would grind out a few more days, from determination alone, where she avoided the conditioning entirely.

But it was always only a matter of time before she broke down again. And each time she did, it only got easier to give the time after that.

The solitary programming Evelyn was meant to undergo alone had changed to reflect Carol’s new intention for her. But so had the direct one on one attention from Carol herself. And while Evelyn had some hope of avoiding the solitary conditioning at least some of the time, when Carol was the one doing it directly, she had almost no chance. When Carol told her to drop, she dropped. The triggers in her mind were too powerful to ignore. When Carol was in front of her, her influence over Evelyn was too strong.

Being directly programmed by Carol had long since gotten all mixed up with sex and physical pleasure, but with the introduction of the new script it had only grown more confusing.

Carol, while pleasuring Evelyn physically, would cycle through the more usual mantras, centering on the them of Evelyn’s slavery and her further descent into it. But then, at moments of particularly intense pleasure, she would pivot instantaneously to graphic descriptions of how Evelyn would lure Angela in, of how Evelyn would break first, and then once broken, help to break Angela. And orgasm was only granted to her if she would agree to the plan— if she would speak positively of her inevitable future.

It was all the more frustrating that the wrongness of being forced to agree to Carol’s directions made the pleasure sharper.

All of it— the solitary conditioning, the one on one conditioning, the thoughts that crept into Evelyn’s mind even when she was idle— was having a cumulative effect. The longer time went on, the more she craved to give in once and for all, just as Carol was waiting for her to do.

Carol herself seemed to reach a similar point of impatience. She changed her tactic— she refused to give Evelyn release at any time, for any reason. She told her the new condition: she would have to agree to go and recruit Angela, would have to promise to do it, and then she could get her release. And Evelyn couldn’t only pay lip service. She had to say it, and mean it.

The lack of release, the ever mounting pleasure that never let up or eased back is what broke Evelyn down in the end. Finally, she capitulated to Carol one day in a one on one session. She found herself saying, as if a key was turning a lock in a her mind and making it available to her, promising that she would bring Angela back to Carol. She was aware of the words just long enough to get them out. Then the pleasure whited everything else out.

The next day, Evelyn stopped by Angela’s house. Angela greeted her at the door, wearing a smile. Evelyn matched it, as Angela invited her inside, smiling at the thought of Angela on her knees, made to obey— just as Evelyn had been.

Just as Evelyn now would.