The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Bad ideas come in all shapes and sizes. I hadn’t seen Leslie in a couple of years, ever since she left the hospital. I was there a little longer... I suppose I had more scarring from our shared captivity. Leslie always was the stronger one.

So here I was, in the middle of what might be a very bad idea, waiting for her in a small coffee emporium that sat in the border between urban bustle and suburban ennui. My nearly black hair was still much the same as it was before we’d been taken... I’d grown it back out from the wedged cut I received at the hands of our captor. I was still trim, even in better shape. Exercise helped with the odd stresses of fitting back into a normal life.

I wondered how Leslie would look. I hadn’t seen her since then. Still blond, still sultry, still captivating? Between embarrassment and fear, it had been much too difficult see her before now. After all, she’d seen first-hand the places my mind... my soul... had been taken, right along with hers. And when I was honest with myself, I really didn’t know if I would trust her. What would be the result if she hadn’t really gotten past being owned by someone else?

After all, it was tough for me, even wanting that part of my life to be over and done with. I wasn’t just afraid of Leslie. She was the strong one. I was afraid that seeing her would send me caroming back into the perversion that had ruled my life and changed me, perhaps forever.

But my therapist and fate had conspired to make meeting Leslie seem important enough—and safe enough in a public place—that here I was, waiting. I’d come early, to try and make myself comfortable in my surroundings. I was as nervous as... okay, I’ll say it. As a cat on a hot tin roof. I don’t know if I could have walked in, knowing she was waiting.

Even now, not all my memories had been erased. They came to me in daydreams and nightmares and erotic flights of fancy. Words and pictures, sounds, smells, virtual movies of the soul that would not let me be... would not ever let me be again.

“You see, slut,” She said, Her voice laughing with sultry ease, “you are helpless. You crave sex like you crave oxygen. When you’re not fucking, lust builds in you until you ache from the suffocation of being denied your life’s purest pursuit.

“You will try to ignore it, convince yourself that you’re immune to the unquenchable desires that make you My slave, but you will not rest, will not do anything else at all until your basic drive is met. You, My dear, will seek a partner, do anything so you can seduce and fuck her. And you will bring her to Me, and even help bind her to Me like you are bound, for all time, and through all things...”

Her Voice echoed in my head while I waited for my latte, and I gasped from the sudden strength of it, memory feeling more like reality, if only for a moment. Words tripped through my mind... long denied but now coming forth, as if they had only been waiting for a moment of Her choosing. My own thoughts seemed to break apart into a disjointed maze that made a new kind of sense.

Bad idea. Leaving behind. Leslie. Mistress. Sultry. Hot. Public. Rule me.

“Why lust? Because, My precious cuntlover, lust one of the three strongest primitive emotions and drives, related directly to survival —anger and fear are the others—and primitive emotions create forces inside you that usurp any standard, any personal morality or integrity. You will do anything—anything at all—to meet needs created by wanton desires of flesh... and the more taboo your passion, the less you will resist as time goes by...”

I looked up and saw my waitress staring my way with a concerned look on her face. I realized my mouth was hanging open, my lower lip loose and shiny from the wetness of my mouth as past words haunted me. I closed my lips and tried a smile. I was trembling as I waved her over.

As wet as my lips were, my pussy was wetter. This was not good. This had been a bad idea.

The waitress walked over and set my latte in front of me. “Are you okay, Ma’am?” she asked. Not that she could do anything. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, but her gesture was sweet, in an adolescent trying to be grown up kind of way.

“No... Lucy,” I answered, looking at her nametag. My tongue swirled in my mouth, tasting delightful sweetness. “I was just thinking about... something from a long time ago.” Something that made my nipples erect. Whatever was happening, it was stronger than the subconscious flashbacks that had come to me in my moments alone. I forced my libido back into its cage and smiled at her caring words. I was only Sharon Sumner, a uniquely qualified Trauma Counselor, and my waitress was just my waitress, not some temptation for a once-plaything of Mistress Tali.

Lucy smiled back. “Okay. Enjoy your latte!” She turned and walked away. I would have to be gracious with my tip. It was nice, seeing someone still untouched by the ravages of life which were soon to come. Still unhurt enough to be kind. Still...

“Nice and fresh,” intoned a dark voice, a sultry reflection of my own. I nearly dropped my coffee. How could I think such a thing? This was no daydream, but something slithering, corrupt and vile, through my thoughts. Before and after Mistress Tal... Dr. Platt’s control, I’d never been interested in or involved with women or girls of any age. Leslie would have known the look on my face for what it was, but Lucy was steeped in naive innocence.

“Yes, you are completely unable to resist your need to seduce and corrupt any woman, especially women who shine in their innocence and gullibility. The kind of girl who will make you cum into oblivion when her tongue touches your clit. The clit I own and control, just as I own and control you, slave. A girl born to surrender and obey, just like you...”

I nearly fainted. I watched the grain in the wood of the tabletop swirl while I recovered. My body was tingling with desire... pleasure I had forgotten for so long.

I would have pushed it away again if I could have. I been warned by my doctors—even after years of dealing with my screwed-up mind, using drugs and therapy to burn away Her influence, that I might be subject to traces of my time with Her that were hidden away in the corners of my mind.

Corners? This was the fucking New Jersey Turnpike. I might as well have searched for a faucet for Niagara Falls as try to end the lust pressing itself into my every cell before it was ready to stop.

I sipped my latte, eyes narrowing as I looked at Lucy again, heat pouring into me through my eyes. I needed something to get to her. I watched her closely. What touch would make her feel safe? What words would whet her curiousity? I wanted her, and I couldn’t keep denying it. Why deny what was natural to Mistress Tali’s cuntlapper? My palm was itching. I curled my fingers to scratch and moaned in a soft whisper. Why worry with seduction when I could just take my sweet, innocent waitress and...

“Sharon?” came a tentative voice.

I looked up. It was Leslie. My evil thoughts evaporated into shadowy mists. I didn’t know whether to smile or cry. The moment was too much to handle, and I took a minute before whispering, if only to avoid the tears that were sitting just beneath me eyes, “Hi, Leslie.”

She was more beautiful than I remembered.

She sat down, and we spent five minutes just looking at each other, wondering what to say. Thinking of time before our... fall. I could see it flashing in her eyes. The time we met as roommates at Central College, the time we got so drunk we couldn’t find the dorm, all the time we spent doing what friends do that builds a lifetime of caring and concern.

And then the time when we thought it would be nice to make money as part of a research experiment under the guiding hand of Dr. Natalie Platt. The time when lust and bottomless depravity was pressed into us unwillingly until we could not remember a time when we had not worshipped each others’ bodies and only wanted more. More... that would please Dr. Natalie... Mistress Tali.

And finally, as if our minds were dancing as we sat, we thought the time when everything fell apart into tiny pieces, to be put back into something that resembled the lives we’d had before we met Mistress, but with gaping holes where our innocence had been.

Joy since then had been a contrivance—a tool for survival, and nothing more.

I felt hot tears wet my cheeks. I had missed Leslie more than I realized.

“Sharon...” she said, and stopped as emotion gripped her voice. She sat and I watched her work her way through the moment. “How— how have you been?”

“Okay, I guess,” I answered. And then, it burst out of me. “Oh, Leslie, I’m so glad you did this. I’ve been so afraid to call you, to find you... afraid that I would wake up and this here would be the dream and I’d be back in my... cage.”

“It’s okay, Shar. I couldn’t call, either. I guess it’s like that when peoples’ heads been screwed with in ways that no one, even they themselves, can’t figure out.

“I was scared to call you, too. To meet you. I’m supposed to be better, but lately... I’ve been having... thoughts. Like with Her. But I realized you were the only one that could help me stop it. No one but you would understand the depth of it. No one but you could help.”

Our hands, sitting on the table, moved forward and stopped. No. Mustn’t touch. A touch might bring it all crashing in again. I couldn’t remember why that was, exactly. It was close, but just out of reach. Just like Leslie. God, she was beautiful. Sensual. Hot.

The room was fading. Arousal swept into deep need. I shouldn’t have been feeling this. I knew better. I pressed my legs together and managed to settle down the squeezing spasms in my loins. It also spread my slick wetness around. Did I mention what a bad idea this had been?

“Leslie, you’re not alone. I’ve been having the same thing happen. It’s getting stronger.”

“I was afraid that might be. Do you think...?” Her face was scrunched up as dark thoughts came that she dared not speak. About desire. Mistress. Surrender. It was awful to see. I wondered if I had the same look on my face.

“Oh, you mean does She still have us? No. I mean, I don’t think so. I still hear Her voice sometimes. Sometimes, it’s really hard to remember who I am. But it’s not unbeatable, and it passes.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

“I know. I know. But it does.”

“But Sharon, I can’t touch you. I hate Her for that. For not being able to take the chance.”

“Feel how you bond with the Stimulator. Feel how your touch spreads pleasure through you both, binding you to My will. Feel how much greater the pleasure is, knowing that what you do pleases Me. And with that greater pleasure comes greater surrender, greater desire to do whatever Mistress wants. You do anything to reach that place and that place only gets deeper and deeper, until even if you cover it up, it is your center, addicted forever to My pleasure, which is your pleasure, until you obey no one but Me.”

The Stimulator. What had been a mysterious something just moments ago took new form. I didn’t need to feel it to know that if I felt that evil device again I’d be gone forever. I shook my head.

Damn that Woman and Her voice. I didn’t know how the damnable thing worked. Drugs. Technology. Magic. Any or all of them, or something else entirely... it didn’t matter. She never explained how it worked and didn’t need to. I had been powerless to stop it.

Faced with it again, I might fall even faster. Any woman would. Mix the most poignant romance you’ve ever dreamed with the deepest, darkest, secret fantasies you have, take five steps deeper, and you might begin to get the idea. I was changed forever. I was cursed, and cursed Her for it.

“Earth to Sharon...” My eyes came back into focus and say Leslie staring. “It just happened, didn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been tortured, Sharon. I did okay for awhile. I go along, doing fine, and then when I let my focus slip just a little, I’m plotting how to seduce the woman down the hall, the woman in the next cubicle, my cousin who’s over for Thanksgiving dinner... it doesn’t matter who. I just want to fuck them.”

“God, Leslie, I’ve been in the same boat. And each time it seems closer to happening. Our waitress? Lucy? If you hadn’t come along, I was ready to... to...”

My lips could not manage the confession.

“Use a Stimulator on her. If you had one.”

“Yes.” Use it. On Lucy. The thing that had warped Dr. Platt, and that she in turn had used to fashion us into drooling, mindfucked cunt hunters. Cunt hunters obsessed with the goals and pleasure of our Mistress... and Lucy would be such a wonderful addition to our little circle... “No! I won’t do to someone else what was done to me! Not for a hundred million dollars! All the tea in China! Only for Mistress and the Her pleasure!”

I gasped and grabbed control of my thoughts. What was happening to all my work to rid myself of these feelings... these directives? Everything was moving in slow motion, like when you’re in a car accident watching it happen, as inevitable as it was horrible.

Like an obligation to fate.

I watched Leslie blink, watching me with concern. I felt my face flush and my brow furrow. I was trembling again.

All of this took seconds. This had been a very, very bad idea.

God help me, thinking of it all, of what I was just one step away from even there in the coffee house, made my nipples ache. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating.

I was about to add something to try to diffuse the spell when I saw something hot spark in Leslie’s eyes. There was something wrong. She was looking at me in a different way. Just looking. Observing. Then I looked at her chest. Her nipples were showing plainly through the thin fabric of her red blouse. Heat was pouring off of her.

She opened her mouth as she reached and took my hand in hers. Desire exploded in me as lust, unblemished by any emotion swept through me like a fast fuse, burning away the facade of my “progress”, tearing apart the veil of the life i thought i’d made for myself. It had all been for Her. For Mistress Tali. Somehow.

“She called me last month, Sharon. From prison. Two weeks later a package arrived. I tried to resist putting it on, touching it, but curiosity... well, it may have killed the cat, but my pussy loved it.

“i don’t know how She found me, how she got the Stimulator to me. i don’t care. i’m hers again. More than that. i never was not Hers. And neither were you.”

“Noooo...” i pleaded, but the Stimulator was already well into its cycle, performing its function, bringing to life the woman i’d been with Her... no, the woman, the cuntlover i was born to be. Two years of rambling with no direction when She was all i wanted. All i needed. All i could need and obey.

Without question or remorse.

leslie released my hand and i saw it. The Stimulator, wrapped around her ring finger, middle finger and thumb, connected across her palm by a matte gray mesh that was oblivion, speaking to and kneading the pleasure centers of the brain beyond anything a female mind, heart, body and soul could resist. Words could and did become law in that place.

Her Words.

Her Law.

Mistress Tali was in the house.

leslie gave me a knowing look as she slipped a Stimulator into my hand. “Yes, sharon. She has never let us go. She only allowed us out to play so we could see how much we need her to be who we truly are. Nothing before Her, nothing since Her matters in the slightest.”

i saw the truth of it, the blinders i had put over my eyes, like the make-believe story of a child. Mistress Tali was all i wanted, and Her pleasure was beyond any pleasure i could know without Her. i was Her cuntlover, Her slave, Her obedient fucktoy.

leslie stood. “Shall we go now? We have a women’s prison to mold into Mistress’ plans.”

“In just a moment,” i said. i stood as well, walked over and gave her a molten kiss that seared our souls together once again. My asshole clenched, aching for her tongue, and my body shivered in anticipation of the fucking we would do while we planned. Mistress had been so good to us. We always thought better while we were fucking for Her.

i pressed her fingers to my crotch and moaned as i came. i didn’t care if anyone saw. if anyone knew. it would only make it that much sweeter to watch the look go from shock to sweet abandon.

“i’ll be right with you, love,” i said. “i have to give our waitress a tip.”

i walked over to the counter, slipping the Stimulator onto my hand, relishing its familiar comfort, savoring the pleasure it fed directly to my clit, feeling the eyes that followed me across the room. Lucy was oblivious to it all, facing the counter and talking into a cellphone.

“Excuse me,” i said, and touched her arm. “i have a little something extra for you.”

She turned, dropping the phone, the person on the other end of the line forgotten. She stared into my eyes, and i shivered watching them dilate with confusion first, and then desire and lust. So much for innocence. i gasped as a tiny orgasm worked its way through my flooded cunt, the reward for doing something so pleasing to Mistress.

i watched as her mouth moved, working to find just the right phrase, just the right words that would express the torrent of feelings flowing through her from the Stimulator.

It took a minute or two, but i didn’t mind. She would find them.

Without fail.

“Fuck me,” she said, her voice rasping with desire.

Not a bad idea at all.