The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Story I: “Therapist’s Harem”

William Wallace, also known as “Willy Wallet” because he had been born into a rich family, was an avid collector. Most people collected bottle caps, antiques, fossils, baseball cards, or things like that. William collected slaves. He had been seventeen when he had first experimented with subliminals. Now he was a hypnotherapist, and he loved his job, because he could find new prospects for his harem. He had long ago discovered several methods of circumventing the Golden Rule of Hypnosis, which stated that a person in hypnotic trance could not be made to do something which was abhorrent to their nature. The human mind was a fascinating thing to him, and he was always trying to find new ways of making someone his.

He had been working on Phoebe Bradley for weeks. She had come to him looking for help with a nervous tic, but he had taken her in his own directions and created an alternate personality without her knowledge. The alternate personality—whom he named Bibi from the French beubelot, meaning “toy,” for she was, indeed, his completely devoted sex toy—was almost ready for the final stage; namely, the consumption and eradication of the original, free personality.

Phoebe entered the office. It was time for her final session. He had her sit down and chatted with Phoebe for a few minutes before he pulled the shiny key from his pocket which they had been using for “quick inductions.” He held the key before her eyes, and her head slumped to her chest. Her body relaxed. When he was absolutely certain she was very deep in trance, he continued. It took almost an hour to finish the job. When he finally snapped his fingers to bring her out of the trance, he was certain there was only Bibi now.

“Bibi?” he asked.

“Yes, Master?” Bibi said.

“Clothes off.” he commanded. She quickly complied. She was very aroused, as William had known she would be. He had her go to her knees while he removed his own clothes. She smiled and licked her lips as she waited for her mouth to accept his cock. When he finally presented it to her, she gleefully deep-throated the whole thing, moving her mouth up and down the shaft. He had done well in suppressing her gag reflex. She sucked with well-programmed ease, obeying the silent cues given her by his body. Her tongue worked skillfully, moving to just the right places to bring her Master maximum pleasure. She kept him on the brink of orgasm, not quite bringing him over the edge, but not diminishing in her ministrations. She prolonged the joy of the blowjob just as she had been programmed to, until he tapped her twice on the back of the head. Then she took him over the edge, and he fired his seed down her throat. He sat down as his slave awaited further instructions. As she watched him recover, she seemed to get more and more aroused. The sight of her was so seductive, William knew he was going to have to fuck this bitch, and soon.

“Hands and knees, Bibi.” he told her.

“Yes, Master.” she replied, obediently going to her hands and knees. She presented her ass to her Master, and he inserted his already-hard penis into her hot, flooded vagina. He tweaked her nipples as he fucked her from behind, occasionally spanking her to hear her scream. Soon she was begging her Master for permission to come. He let her continue to beg, allowed her need to become more and more desperate and her pleading to become more and more plaintive. Finally, he felt the rumbling in his own balls, signaling his own coming orgasm, and he gave her the permission she so desperately needed. She screamed aloud, her vaginal tunnel contracted, drawing even more pleasure from him, and only when his last bit of seed had been fired into her body did her orgasm end and her strength fail her. She collapsed on the floor, panting. She was bathed in sweat. He watched her lay there for a few minutes. He did not see her reach into her discarded shirt. She stood up and turned toward him.

“Bibi, I did not instruct you to stand.” William said.

“I am not Bibi. My name is Susan, and I am the slave of Charles King. Phoebe was a false personality created by my Master to help me to perform my task.” She fired something into William’s leg. When he looked down, he discovered that something with a blue feather was sticking out of his leg. She’d darted him! His pulse quickened, accelerating the flow of whatever was in the dart through his system. It quickly began to grow harder and harder to think. Susan waited almost ten minutes. Then, someone opened the door.

“Have you darted him?” the stranger asked.

“Yes, Master.” Susan replied.

“How long has it been?”

“Ten minutes, Master.”

“Good. You know what to do.”

“Yes, Master.” Susan said. She turned back to William and looked directly into his eyes. “My Master hates competition. You have been stealing slaves he had been setting his sights on for months, interfering in his grand plans, and generally making a major nuisance of yourself to him. Now, listen closely. You are going to take my Master to the place where you keep your harem, and you are going to reprogram all of your slaves to become his slaves, to obey only him, and to do nothing unless he commands them to. When all this is done, you will get rid of yourself. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.” William replied.

Story II: “Gopher”

Harlene turned off the ignition. She had just spent twenty minutes dodging drunks, road ragers, and people who just didn’t know how to drive. And of course, there was always at least one pair of trucks that loved to drive side-by-side while going ninety through the twelve-mile section of road where the shoulder was under construction. Traffic in and around her city was NOT conducive to keeping a car running on her budget. Police were powerless to do anything to help traffic become less violent, or closer to what society liked to call “sane.” A totally sane person was impossible. Everyone was crazy in one way or another. Some were just more visible than others. Everybody in this town was visibly disturbed, at least when they were behind the wheel. Harlene sat in her silent car for five minutes, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm herself. She had had to fight the car to keep it on the road after a white ‘81 Granada had pulled into her lane too fast. A quick check verified that her alignment had been screwed up badly. She did NOT need this. She had to deal with a kleptomaniac today as her first appointment. She stalked into her office, punched the daylights out of her aggression-therapy punching bag, and flopped into her chair. After another ten minutes of unsuccessful attempts at calming herself, she finally grabbed a bottle of Yoo-Hoo from the refrigerator. After three bottles, she managed to calm herself to a manageable level.

The door to Harlene’s office opened, and a strawberry blonde stepped in. She was dressed in blue sweatpants, a blue-green T-shirt, and matching sandals. Her name was Tami Holt. Something about this young woman turned Harlene on. Harlene had long ago come to terms with her bisexuality, but she had never been turned on by a patient before, whether male or female. They chatted, talked about Tami’s petty theft convictions and the circumstances surrounding them. Harlene listened, all the while growing more and more aroused. Finally Harlene had enough of a basis to begin with the induction. She relaxed Tami, and began taking her as deep as she could. Harlene felt a deep inner need to take Tami to the absolute deepest trance she could. Finally they were to the point where Tami couldn’t go any deeper.

“Tami, can you hear me?” Harlene asked.

“Yesss.” Tami replied.

“You hear only my voice, is that correct, Tami?”

“Yesss.”

“Good.” Harlene said. She had Tami start talking about why she stole.

“When I see something that I’d really like to have, this weird feeling comes over me. I just have to steal it, even if I have the money on me.”

“From now on, Tami, you will not steal without my permission.” Harlene said. “If you ever feel the need to steal something I have not specifically commanded you to steal, instead of stealing it, you will go into the bathroom and masturbate.” Why did I say that? she wondered.

“I understand.” Tami replied.

“Ooh, I really need to get off.” Harlene muttered to herself, uncomfortable in her panties which she knew were soaked, and her tight, binding bra. Too late she realized Tami had heard her.

“Would you like me to get you off?” Tami asked. Before Harlene even realized what was going on, she had already answered to the affirmative, and Tami was on her feet and approaching her. She pulled Harlene’s clothing off one item at a time, then removed her own. Harlene was surprised at how erect her nipples were, how much of her juices were flowing out of her pussy. Tami was just as aroused. She brought her mouth to Harlene’s right breast and began to suck the nipple. With her right hand she massaged the left breast, and with her left hand she began to rub Harlene’s clitoris. In a frenzy of passion, Harlene reached out and began to roll Tami’s clit between her fingers, and both women were moaning. Harlene didn’t last long, but she kept rolling Tami’s clit until the other woman came. Harlene was still recovering when Tami started lapping at her cunt, which sent another explosion of pleasure through her. Before she knew it, she was holding Tami’s head to her flooding vagina, her legs wrapped around the other woman’s neck. She didn’t let go until Tami had brought her to orgasm three times. Harlene’s better sense kicked in, and she decided to get herself and Tami dressed before this went too much farther. She brought Tami out of the trance when they were both dressed. Tami, surprisingly smiled.

“Thank you.” Tami said. “I’ve never had a love experience like that before. I’ve known I was a lesbian for a year now, but I’ve never...” she paused. “I’ve never had such a glorious experience before. If there’s anything you need or want, ask me, and I’ll steal it for you. I’ll be your gopher. I’ll go for anything you want.” Harlene put her hand on the other woman’s lips. No more words were necessary. She pressed her lips to Tami’s, then the kiss became the warmest hug she’d ever given anyone. “I love you...Mistress.” Tami said. Harlene realized that it was hardly professional to fall in love with one’s patient, but that was just what had happened.

Story III: “Marriage Counselor”

They were at their wits’ end, and that was a fact. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other. They were recently married, and still at that “lovey-dovey” stage that nobody who hadn’t experienced it (and some that had) seemed to be able to stomach. The problem seemed to stem from the fact that Tim didn’t fold like a kite on every decision now that he was no longer trying to woo and win, and Barbara was constantly forgetting to compromise. The result was that Tim felt that his freedoms were being undermined and taken away, while she felt he was undermining her rights as an independent, liberated woman. Their fights were mostly a matter of control. At least, that’s what the doctor told Tim. It was small comfort to the twenty-six-year-old man who sat on the couch talking to the doctor while his wife sat in the waiting room, out of earshot.

“How did she behave before you married?” the doctor asked.

“She was a hell of a lot more flexible.” Tim said. “I’m sorry, I meant to say heck.”

“No, you were right the first time.” the doctor replied. “You meant to say hell. Heck is for people who don’t believe in gosh.” Tim laughed. “Please continue.”

“Well, she was sweeter, more willing to compromise, she smiled more, she liked trying new things, you know, in the sack.” Tim paused. “Once, we even played like she was a sex robot. You know, just one of those little games lovers play. Best sex of my life. Anyway, she was willing to play some different games, and it wasn’t like I was the dominant one all the time. I let her be Xena and I was her current love puppet once, she got to play sorceress casting her spell over me—made me drink some weird shit when we did that—but I guess she felt I was taking advantage of her when we played the male-dominant games—’Genie and Master,’ ‘Good Cop, Bad Hooker,’ ‘Dracula & His Princess,’ ‘Sex Bot 2001,’ ‘Bondage Schoolgirl’ (we had one of those Japanese schoolgirl uniforms at the time) ‘Wizard,’ ‘Sex Championship Wrestling,’ and all that kind of thing.”

“Please go on.” the doctor said.

“Anyway, after the honeymoon it was all Dominatrix all the time.” Tim continued. “Woman on top, whips and chains when she felt like it, her way or no way. Then the ‘her way or no way’ started leaking out of the bedroom into our lives. I love her with all my heart, I really do, but when she started hiding my keys and checking up on me when I was out on business, that’s when the fights started. After we started fighting, things started getting really bad. She’d take keys off the key ring, you know. The only car key on my key%20ring is the key to her Nomad, and she’s got a six-page set of rules on that, and a Lo-Jack for if I’m ever out late. I don’t have access to MY Stingray that I inherited when Dad passed away, MY pickup, MY ‘57 Chevy that I rebuilt MYSELF, and the watercraft I inherited from my Uncle Louie, out of the question.” He had worked up a great deal of anger by this point. “She bought a book on Computing for Dummies and put a password on the computer. She screens my calls, she got this vicious dog that attacks my friends as if they were the Devil himself, she threw out all the albums I had that had swear words on them, or she didn’t think were appropriate for her Baptist upbringing, which means there’s nothing left in the house that I ever bought before in my LIFE. I don’t mind Credence Clearwater Revival or Anne Murray or the Gospel Classics Collection, but...”

“But not as the only thing you’re permitted to listen to.” finished the doctor. “You seek variety, and at least a small measure of control, and this is normal. Everything you’ve said is perfectly normal, Tim...at least, for a man in your position.”

“So you’re saying I’m not the problem?” Tim asked.

“No. You’re a living, breathing human being fighting for your rights as such. Your wife is what is commonly called a control-freak. It’s not as uncommon as you might think, especially in today’s society, with rabid feminists figuring so prominently in the culture. This tendency seems to stem, according to what she’s told me of her past, from her aunt, who impressed upon her from an early age that it was the wife’s duty not only to carry children and perform the traditional household tasks, but also to keep her husband on the path of light.”

“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like that bitch.” Tim muttered.

“From what your wife has told me, Tim, her uncle must have been even more henpecked than you.” At Tim’s glare, the doctor held up a hand in a “restrain yourself” gesture. “I’ve been working on a new therapy which I believe might help solve your problem. On the way out to the waiting room, give this note to the secretary, then tell your wife I’m ready to see her.” The doctor scrawled a quick note on a Post-It pad, took off the top sheet, and handed it to Tim. Tim walked out of the doctor’s office and handed the slip of paper to the receptionist, without even reading it. Her eyes seemed to glaze for a second, then returned to normal. Tim dared not let it seem like he was looking at her, for fear that Barbara would start another argument. He sat down beside Barbara and told her the doctor was ready for her.

She really was a beautiful young woman, with long, red hair, luscious, full lips, and a body that was lush without being fat, slim without being skinny. Her arse twitched as she walked. It was an unconscious thing, but it turned Tim on, even when he was mad at her. When the door closed, the receptionist called him over. She was a perky young blonde, possibly ex-cheerleader, with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“The doctor’s going to be a while.” she said. “He told me to make sure you were okay for the wait. If you want to go into the break room, there’s a little TV and a fridge.”

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Tim asked.

“Depends on the patient.” the receptionist replied. “I’ve seen it take anywhere from three to eight hours.”

“For one session?”

“It involves probing deeply into the patient’s belief system.” the receptionist explained. “Sometimes the induction alone can take hours.”

“Oh.”

“If you need anything, I am at your service.” the receptionist said. “My name is Janie.” Tim sat in the break%20room and turned on the television. He was having trouble getting anything to come in with a degree of clarity. Janie smacked it a couple of times, then furrowed her brow. “Sunspots.” she muttered. “Always messing with our reception. I’ll be back in a second.” She hung a sign on the window that said “press button to call receptionist.” She returned to the break%20room and closed the door. “It’s soundproof.” she said. “That’s why we need the buzzer.”

“Why would you soundproof the break%20room?” Tim asked.

“Because I am often called upon to entertain patients while their spouse is in session.” Janie said huskily. She turned on a CD player and began to dance. Tim was embarrassed to find that as she danced, he found it harder and harder not to stare at her lovely body. A particularly heated song came on after the first track, and she began to undress. Tim’s jaw practically hit the floor. Janie was easily a match for Barbara when it came to looks, although Tim didn’t normally fancy women with enhanced breasts like the ones she possessed. He backed up against the wall as she approached, dancing too close for his comfort. She nibbled down his torso until she got to the fly of his slacks. Before he knew what was going on, she had his stiffening penis in her mouth and was sucking with relish. He’d never had a blowjob before. He came quickly. She excused herself with a gesture and went to spit his seed in the sink. After washing the semen/saliva mixture down the drain, she pulled a box of condoms from the silverware drawer.

“Um, miss...um, Janie, I’m a married man.” Tim stammered.

“I know.” Janie said. “This is nothing serious. I won’t even remember you when you leave. I have been instructed to entertain you, and this is how I usually do it.” She slipped a condom on his penis, which was already becoming hard again, and then guided his member into her opening. Her vaginal muscles were well-trained, exerting just the right amount of pressure to bring maximum pleasure. They used several condoms that evening. Before Tim knew it, the doctor had called her to let him know that his wife was ready.

Tim guiltily restored himself to some measure of propriety and followed Janie to the doctor’s office. Janie went in, and at the doctor’s gesture, sat down in a chair. The doctor snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, and she was like a marionette with her strings cut. Nervously, Tim looked over at Barbara...and in her eyes saw the girl he had married. Sweet, giving, loyal, loving...she seemed to love him more at that moment than ever before in their relationship.

“There you are, Tim.” the doctor said. “All better. It took us eight hours, but we did it. She’s worked through her control complex, and I even awakened some of her untapped potentials for you, but she’ll demonstrate that when you’re alone.”

“I don’t know what to say, doctor.”

“Well, you are paying fifty bucks an hour. You might as well get your money’s worth.” the doctor said. Tim didn’t know whether or not he should tell the doctor he and Barbara had been to counselors that charged well over thrice that.

On the drive home (Tim actually got to drive this time), Tim noticed the letter the doctor had slipped him. They stopped at a red light, and Tim read it. It said:

“Best of luck and may all your anniversaries be happy ones. I told you I had awakened some of her untapped potentials for you. She has a full, detailed list of them for you to explore. For right now, though, why not just strike up a conversation, and bring up one of your favorite games.

“Sincerely,

“Dr. Ameglio Von Braun”

“So, uh, Barbara, you remember some of those old games we used to play?”

“I loved them.” Barbara cooed. “More than I would have admitted before Dr. Von Braun helped me work through some of the issues clouding my mind. I see things so much more clearly now.”

“What was your favorite?”

“I’ll tell you that when we get home.” she said with a wink. “What’s yours?”

“Well, I must admit I did kinda like Robot Doll.”

“Ro. Bot. Doll.” Barbara repeated in a flat, emotionless voice. Tim looked over at her and almost lost control of the car. Barbara’s face was completely blank. Her eyes were wide and glassy, and stared straight ahead. Her back was ramrod-straight, breasts jutting forward.

“Barbara?” Tim asked.

“Yes. Mas. Ter.” Barbara replied.

“What are you doing?”

“I. Am. Your. Ro. Bot. Doll.” she replied. Tim pulled over.

“Barbara, why are you my robot doll?” Tim asked, wondering what Dr. Von Braun had done to her.

“Doc. Tor. Von. Braun. Helped. Me. Be. Come. More. Im. Ma. Gin. Na. Tive.” Barbara-Doll replied. “You. Name. The. Game. I. Be. Come. The. Game. I. Am. Your. Ro. Bot. Doll.”

It occurred to Tim that this could be some kind of joke Barbara was playing. He said something she wouldn’t normally do, and she went at it. Her lovely mouth worked on his cock like magic. She had a little trouble at first, but she was an amateur, who quickly became a natural. And this was only the beginning.

Story IV: “Burned”

Brenda was her name. Dr. Flockhart looked it up in his Big Book of Names. Apparently, it meant “firebrand.” That was appropriate, because the girl was a pyromaniac like Lake Superior was a puddle. He looked through her file. It contained her medical history, mental history, and even a picture. Dr. Flockhart knew he shouldn’t have, but he had taken the picture to bed with him and masturbated in front of it. The girl was gorgeous. Flaming red hair with blonde highlights, piercing amber eyes, flawless skin, long, smooth legs and perfect teeth, thanks to the braces which had come off the year before. She was twenty-one, and had entered an insanity plea when she was arrested on charges of arson, claiming she couldn’t help starting fires. Sure enough, her psychological profile seemed to fit. She was a medium-strong claustrophobic with an attendant fear of the dark, abusive childhood, stressful career, and she had a history of firestarting. The earliest one on record was when she was five. The five-alarm blaze had put several people in the hospital. She apparently felt powerful when she burned things. Her most recent had been the burning of her place of business. She had called in sick and chloroformed the receptionist, a friend of hers. She had dragged the woman to safety before pouring gasoline all over the floor in the lobby and tossing in a Molotov cocktail. Her boss had been killed in the fire.

Brenda was escorted into his office by two cops. Dr. Flockhart specialized in the various manias, but he had many patients and couldn’t go out to the mental hospital where she was staying, pending successful treatment of her condition, so they had arranged to have her transported to his office. She was even more beautiful in person, clad in the mental hospital’s uniform, which brought out her eyes and showed just a bit of cleavage. Dr. Flockhart dismissed the escorts and began speaking to Brenda. Eventually, he finally got her to admit what her attraction to fire was.

“It...turns me on.” she said. “Watching how it pushes back the dark, giving off such a beautiful light, chasing my fears away. And it turns me on to watch it burning and destroying everything in its path. The power and the passion, licking its way up all the flammable things in the room, caressing it with its burning touch like a lethal lover. Oooh, I’m turned on right now just thinking about it!”

“Here, let me help you.” Dr. Flockhart said, putting a candle on the table and lighting it. She stared raptly at the candle and began to smile. “Look at the candle, Brenda. Look at the candle’s light, banishing the dark and filling your eyes with its gentle light. Just watch the flame, Brenda, let the image burn its way into your mind. Relax and let the flame burn itself into your mind. You don’t have to always start fires where people will get hurt, Brenda. A fire in your mind is all you really need. Let the flame burn itself into your mind, Brenda, feel it begin to take root, finding fuel first in your unpleasant memories, burning them away. Let the fire in your mind continue to burn, Brenda. It’s moved on to other memories, Brenda. Soon it will begin to consume you, burning away your will and your personality. It will burn away the whole of your mind, leaving you helpless against any command which might be given to you. You welcome this, Brenda, for it means you won’t ever have to be afraid anymore. No more fears, no more unpleasant memories of abuse and neglect. No more stress at work, no more nightmares, no more worry. Feed it all to the fire, Brenda, let the fire consume your mind. As the fire consumes you, Brenda, you begin to feel the heat. You need to cool off your body, Brenda. The easiest way to do that is to take off your clothes. Take off your clothes, Brenda, take them all off.” Brenda began to take off her clothes. “Feel the passion of the flames, Brenda, as your mind is consumed by it. Feel the passion, Brenda. The passion of the fire consumes you, arousing you, causing your body to respond sexually. Give in to the passion, Brenda. As you give in to the passion, you will find yourself wanting to have sex with the first person who returns that passion.” He kissed her, and she returned the kiss with all the passion her mesmerized mind could muster. He leaned her back on the couch and undid his pants. She moaned softly as he entered her.

“Feel the passion growing, Brenda.” he said. “Feel it growing as you approach orgasm, consuming your mind. As soon as you feel your orgasm, the fire in your mind will be so powerful that it will consume everything, and it will begin to burn down as you come down from orgasm, leaving behind only the ashes of your mind and smoldering obedience.” She moaned more loudly as he pumped himself into her. He covered her mouth with his, and massaged her breasts. He couldn’t let her come yet. He wasn’t ready. He eased up, letting her calm down somewhat before he continued towards his own orgasm. Finally, he came, and felt himself draining into her as he did. At this sensation, Brenda bucked and thrashed orgasmicly, finally going limp on the couch. Her blank, expressionless face told him that his suggestion had fully taken, and she was his. “Brenda, stand up.” he said. She obeyed. “Now, Brenda, my dear, I will build for you a new mind. Like the phoenix of legend you will rise from the ashes of your old mind, and be reborn. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Brenda said in a half-sigh. Dr. Flockhart smiled in anticipation of programming his new pet. Suddenly the door burst in.

“What are you doing?” demanded one of the officers. Dr. Flockhart was at a loss, literally caught with his pants down. As the officers cuffed him, Dr. Flockhart cursed himself for not soundproofing his office.