The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bonny woke up with two very naked women in bed. One was her beloved mistress. The other was her friend. The friend I betrayed.

It’s what mistress wanted!

Yeah, because “I was just following orders” has SUCH a great History as far as excuses go.

Amy’s happy with it...

ARTIFICIAL happiness. It’s a violation of her free will.

Mistress is always right.

It’s just the programming telling you that.

MISTRESS IS ALWAYS RIGHT!

Slowly, she got out of bed. It was Saturday; no need to wake either her mistress or Amy. In fact...she could make breakfast for them. Surely she owed Amy that much, and the thought of pleasing her mistress made everything better.

She was halfway done when Amy showed up in the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

“Unless this is all some kind of dream, yes. Is this for mistress?”

“Yeah...” Bonny couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with Amy’s newfound servitude.

“Great! Let me help, you know I’m a better cook than you.”

As they worked together, Amy eventually spoke up: “Bonny, please be honest here...You are happy serving mistress, right?”

The question took her by surprise, though in retrospect, it shouldn’t have. Nevertheless, it involved a can of worms Bonny preferred not to open. “Why the question?”

“You’re my best friend, Bonny. I want my friends to be happy.”

“What does it matter? We obey mistress, and we always will. We can’t change that.” Or is that just an excuse?

“But, still?”

“I...” She thought about it. About her doubts...But mostly, about how wonderful mistress was. How beautiful. How she felt when she obeyed her, or when she felt she had pleased mistress. “...yes. I’m happy serving mistress.”

Amy beamed. That actually annoyed Bonny for once. “But what if I wasn’t?! What would you do if I was miserable being her slave?!”

Amy hesitated for a moment. “She’s my mistress. She’s always right. I’d talk to her about programming you to be a happy slave.”

Bonny wasn’t sure how to react to a statement like that. “But...Yesterday, it bothered you that I was her slave...”

“It did. But mistress knows best, right?”

“What if she made you do something awful? What if she made you give up all your hopes and dreams?” What if she made me use my work to violate people’s freewill.

“Mistress wouldn’t do that. But if she did...I’d obey.”

“You would?”

“Of course. She’s my mistress.” Amy smiled. Bonny preferred to focus on the breakfast they were making.

Their mistress was pleased by the breakfast-in-bed, and the happiness Bonny derived from that took her mind off her doubts. For a little while.

“I’m glad to have such dutiful slaves,” said Stephanie, “but we need to expand this harem, and the sooner the better.”

“Yes, mistress” said Bonny. She knew this was coming. “As per your orders, I’ve been compiling a list of potential servants. There’s Jeffrey Lane, a young, single millionaire in town. There’s Robert Sherman, the editor in chief of the local newspaper. Suzanne Brown, the dean of the university...”

“Ut-ut-ut. Slave Bonny, thank you for your work...and, maybe we do need to branch out into the stronger sex...but, before we move into the people on your list, I believe I could use a bodyguard.”

“A bodyguard?” Bonny was confused. Granted, mistress was always right, so she must have a good reason, but...“Why a bodyguard, mistress? Realistically, you’re more likely to need someone with influence in the near future than someone with brawn.”

“Perhaps. But with this bodyguard, it’s not just about needs. It’s personal.” She showed them a picture. It had two women in it – one was unmistakably Stephanie; the other was a tall, muscular amazon with short blond hair and a tomboyish look.

“Who is she, mistress?”

“Her name is Connie Armstrong. She was my girlfriend in 12th grade, then we...broke up. I intend to get her back.”

“Ooh, do you still love her, mistress?” Amy’s face took a dreamy expression. Always the romantic.

Stephanie scoffed. “Not the point. She hurt me, and now she’ll pay. Simple as that.”

“She...broke up with you.” said Bonny, coming to a realization. And you still hold it against her. For bruising your ego.

The dirty look her mistress gave her made her feel like she was dying a little inside. “Hold your tongue, slave.”

“...Yes, mistress.”

“Better. Anyway...I’ve checked up on Connie. She’s still the same exercise freak as ever, and still learning karate. We’ll need to come up with a plan...”

According to Stephanie, Connie was as willful as she was strong. She had a strong personality – and Bonny had clearly gotten the impression that they hadn’t broken up on good terms.

Several plans had been tossed around, but what her mistress had wanted was one that involved breaking the amazon’s will, then making her dependent on Stephanie.

The final plan involved some heavy electronics work on Bonny’s part: She had to take an old, relatively bulky cell phone, remove its internal components, replace them with those of a modern, smaller phone, and put the subliminator in the thus-freed space. As she completed the device, she couldn’t help but think – the whole thing was petty.

Connie was coming back home after an intensive karate lesson. She had earned her first dan years ago, and did reasonably well in local competitions – her technique was not the best, but she had fighting spirit in spades.

The highlight of the day’s session had been an additional victory against the Grinner. Not his real name, of course, but that was the nickname she gave him in her thoughts. He’d joined them two years ago, always grinning with that superior, smug expression of his, like he knew he was better than them all. Problem is, he was. The self-satisfaction he showed every time he beat her (or everyone else, for that matter) had been a pretty strong motivation: She’d taken to training for some extra hours at home, until she had finally caught up to the Grinner. Now, she beat him more often than not. And she always made a point to grin afterwards.

A ringing sound came from ground level, halting her train of thoughts. Crouching down, she found a cell phone in the bushes. It looked pretty old. She picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” came a female voice she didn’t recognize.

<You are feeling friendly.>

“Who is this?”

“My name is Bonny. I lost my cell phone, so I called its number. Did you find it?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Thank goodness. Where did I lose it?”

Connie gave her the address. She generally didn’t like dealing with other people’s stupidity, but what the heck – she was in the mood to be nice.

“Thank you so much. I was really worried I’d lost it for good.”

“It looks like a really old model, frankly.”

“It is. But it’s important to me. It was a gift from...someone I really cared about.”

<You want to help.>

“OK, I get it. Give me your address, and I’ll send it to you.”

“Actually...I’m not too far from where you are. I think. If you just give me directions, I should be able to get there in a few minutes.”

Connie began giving instructions, but Bonny seemed to get a bit confused. She was starting to move in the right direction, but then would forget the next part.

<You want to keep chatting.>

Somehow, that didn’t annoy Connie the way she would have thought it would. She had to admit, the conversation was enjoyable.

<You really like Bonny.>

Only a few more blocks. Despite the apparent incompetence, this Bonny girl seemed somewhat intelligent. Kinda nice, really.

<You trust Bonny.><Bonny is your friend.>

Finally, Bonny arrived. A mousy brunette, looking shy and unsure of herself. But Connie was still feeling friendly, and greeted her with the lost cell phone.

Bonny was nervous as all Hell. She was a lousy, inexperienced liar – but her mistress had trained her thoroughly for this. After all, Amy would make an even worse agent for this mission, and Connie would be suspicious of Stephanie herself. Her next part involved taking the cell phone...then allowing herself to collapse to the ground.

Connie rushed to the fallen girl’s help. Bonny reassured her – “It happens every now and then. Nothing serious” – but Connie insisted on letting her inside her home. She laid the mousy girl down on the sofa.

“Thank you...”

“No problem. Anything else I can do to help?”

“Actually...The doctor said I should try to relax whenever I have these fainting spells. Usually, I try to relax with this...” She handed Connie a CD.

“Huh?”

“It’s relaxation music. Helps me a lot. You have a sound system?”

“Sure, let me fire it up. Do you want earphones?”

“Er, no thanks. I really hate earphones – it ruins the music for me.”

That was a bit odd, but Connie figured it wasn’t worth arguing with. Soon enough, the relaxation music was playing in the house.

...Relaxation music filled with subliminal messages, needless to say. The phone hadn’t been a very good way of affecting Connie’s mind, but it made for a good Trojan horse. Now, it was time for phase two.

<You trust Bonny completely.>

And so, they chatted. Bonny was shielded from the subliminals by the filters in her ears, and her ears were covered by her new hairdo. Connie found herself opening up to the girl.

<Bonny is your best friend.>

At a certain point, Bonny used her cell phone to call a friend of hers to come and pick her up.

<You’re weak.>

“By the way,” said Bonny after a while, “there’s something that’s been bugging me. Do I...know you from somewhere? You look awfully familiar.”

“No...I don’t think so.”

“I’ve seen your face somewhere, I’m sure of it. Oh! I remember now!”

“What?”

“The photo! You’re on this photo my roommate has!”

“Your roommate?”

“Yeah. She’s this redhead called Stephanie – and you must be the famous Connie she’s always talking about!”

That took Connie by surprise. She remembered Stephanie – they’d dated in 12th grade, but she’d left her when she realized what a manipulative bitch she was.

<You miss Stephanie.>

“What do you mean, always talking about?”

“Well, she is. I think she still misses you after all those years.”

That, too, was a surprise. Stephanie had never struck her as all that sentimental. She certainly wouldn’t have thought she’d still be holding a torch for her – though, truth be told, she did kinda miss her, too. Yet another surprise – Stephanie hadn’t been in her thoughts much for the last few years.

So they talked more. Bonny seemed to have a rather high opinion of Stephanie, to the point where Connie was beginning to wonder if they might be more than just roommates...

<You have nothing against Stephanie.>

“...and that was the end of it” Bonny finished telling a Stephanie-related anecdote.

“Nice. By the way, are you and Stephanie girlfriends?”

Bonny was taken aback by the question. “N-no. We’re, we’re just roommates.” Connie thought Bonny didn’t sound all that convincing...but, she trusted the mousy girl, so...

<You still love Stephanie.><You miss Stephanie terribly.>

The more they talked, the more Connie found herself thinking of her old girlfriend. Sure, she’d dumped her good – but she found she could no longer summon any negative feelings against her. She was amazed to realize how strongly she still felt about the girl.

<You’re weak.><You’re useless.><You’re worthless without Stephanie.>

More time passed. Connie found herself wondering why it was taking Bonny’s friend so long to come pick her up...but at the same time, she was glad for it. She didn’t feel like being alone right now. She usually considered herself a strong, independent woman...But right now, for some reason, she was feeling like crap.

<You’re a weak, useless girl.><Your life is a failure.><You’re nothing without Stephanie.>

It was getting worse by the minute. Why was she feeling like this? Dammit, when things went wrong, she usually just got all badass and dealt with it! But now...nothing went wrong, yet everything did. The conversation got slower.

<You’re too weak to fight.><You’re too weak to make decisions.><You need Stephanie.>

“...Connie? Are you all right?”

Looking up, Connie realized she had gone silent in the middle of the conversation. She saw Bonny’s concerned expression. “I’m...I’m fine...I...I...I think I might still love Stephanie...”

And with that, the dam broke. Connie erupted in tears, sobbing on the ground, while the subliminal-laced music kept playing in the background.

Bonny looked down, horrified. It had taken the subliminator less than half-an-hour to turn a strong, willful woman into an emotional wreck. My fault. The more she saw of her invention’s capability, the more she was terrified.

That was when the door opened. “Hey Bonny...Connie? Is that you?”

In-between sobs, Connie looked up. That voice...unbelievable, but there she was: Stephanie. Her old girlfriend. The woman she still loved. The woman she desperately needed.

Taking an air of concern, Stephanie knelt before the broken amazon. “Connie? It’s OK. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

In response, Connie threw her arms around Stephanie and began crying even harder. And as Stephanie consoled her ex, Bonny couldn’t help but notice a hint of cruelty in her smug smile.

Bonny had put in another disc while her mistress handled their victim. This one would prepare her for the final plunge.

<You’re too weak to fight.><You’re nothing without Stephanie.><You must obey Stephanie.>

“I gotta say, Connie – I had no idea you’d break like this without me. I guess you should never have left.”

Connie only nodded.

“Well, I can’t leave you like this, now can I? You’re a wreck. I’ll need to rebuild you into something stronger.”

Connie nodded again.

“Well then, put this on” she handed her the iPod. “Listen to it. It will make something worthwhile out of you.”

Hesitatingly, Connie put on the earphones and began to listen. Each message would be repeated dozens of times. <You are nothing without Stephanie.><You belong to Stephanie.><Stephanie is your mistress.><You are Stephanie’s slave.><You must always obey your mistress.><You cannot disobey your mistress.><Your sole purpose in life is serving your mistress.><Your only strength comes from your mistress.><You love, adore and worship your mistress.>...

Some time later, Stephanie and all three of her slaves met up in the dorm room. Connie stood at attention, desperate to please her mistress; the subliminals had rebuilt her with a complete, aching dependency on the redhead.

We destroyed her, Bonny thought uneasily. It’s not right. It’s just not right. She gazed at her mistress. She loved that woman, but...

“Well, yet another one joins the harem” said Stephanie. “So, tell me, Connie...How does it feel, knowing that I used a mind-control machine to break your will and turn you into my slave?”

“How I feel doesn’t matter, mistress” Connie replied honestly. “I exist to serve you.”

“Such a good girl. You realize, of course, that you’ve brought this on yourself. If you hadn’t acted the way you did, I would have been much more gentle with you.”

“Yes mistress. Sorry mistress.”

That’s SO wrong. Now she’s blaming the victim. Mistress is always right...Screw that, mistress is NOT right, and I damn well know it!

“Well, we’ll just have to think up a suitable punishment to humble you” Stephanie went on. “I know: Starting today, you are the harem’s official pussy-licker. When we wake up in the morning, you are to lick us all down there, so that we can get out of bed with an orgasm.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Oh, and remind me to use the subliminator to make you all bi later.

Now, where were we...Ah, right. More people to enslave. Bonny, be a doll and remind me who the prospective slaves are.”

So that you can break THEM, too? That’s wrong...But...She’s my mistress...I must obey her...“Robert Sherman. Suzanne Brown. Jeffrey Lane...”

“Suzanne Brown?” Connie sounded surprised.

“You know her?” Stephanie sounded intrigued.

“She’s a friend of my mother. They go to the same Church...The one I used to go to before my coming-out.”

“Reeealy. Tell me everything you know about dear Suzanne.”