The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Helen was no longer paralyzed and strapped to the frame in the operating room. She was free, sitting on a stool in a room painted a tasteful shade of pale green. Suspicious, she examined herself—her hands looked exactly as she remembered, her toes wiggled as they did normally. She was wearing a plain cotton white shift, no jewellery.

A door opened in the wall—had it been there before? and Rori walked in. Her face was instantly recognizable. She too was wearing a white shift, and had bare feet. The shift emphasized the color of her face and limbs.

The two women regarded each other for a moment. Helen broke the silence.

“You’re not Rori.”

The other woman grinned.

“Of course not. I am but a tiny fraction of what Rori is. Even your mind—and it is an excellent one, Helen—could not comprehend the whole entity that is Rori. But I am that piece of Rori which is with you now, Helen. You can call me ‘Rori’ anyway or, if you like, ‘Ro’ which was my nickname. What’s in a name?”

“You’re not sweet, Rori, let me tell you that. Where is this?” Helen gestured around her. “Is it—was it—a real place?”

“What is real, Helen?” Rori tapped the wall, making a hollow sound. “This is an abstraction. It’s how your mind represents the bridge to Rori that Dr Lewis has just installed in your brain. There’s nothing much here now. As time goes on, the room will acquire items and characteristics representing the growth of our link. Unlike our automatons, where their link is fixed and simple, we expect this link to become complex and huge. The automatons don’t have an ego any more, there’s no ‘person’ as such to come into a room like this.”

Helen tapped her toes on the floor, looking at Rori and wondering what would happen if she slapped Rori silly.

“You can try it. It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Rori reassured her. “It’s understandable that you think that way about your friend Sally. You don’t yet understand Rori’s vision.”

Helen narrowed her eyes. “Of course. You’re in my mind. You can read me.”

“Do you think this conversation is happening in real time?” Rori almost giggled. “Of course I’m reading you. This is mind-to-mind communication. But please, come and slap me if it would make you feel better.”

Helen came off her stool like a greyhound, swinging for Rori’s head. Rori just stood there, placidly. Helen’s hand stopped a millimeter from Rori’s cheek—and suddenly Helen was back on the stool.

“Did that really happen? Was it just in your mind? If you thought of doing it, but didn’t leave the stool, was that any different? Ah, the metaphysics are fascinating.”

Helen was resigned. “You have complete control, I’m sure. But you can’t stop me thinking for myself.”

“I wouldn’t want to, Helen. You can think whatever you want: But you will do what I require. And whenever Rori requires your whole mind for her purposes, I will bring you back here.”

“So this,” Helen gestured at the room, “is my prison?” It looked very bare and dispiriting, if so.

“Think of it as a time-out room. The ‘naughty step’, perhaps,” Rori laughed. “You won’t stay here long. Rori will dip in and out as she needs you. If we left you in here for too long, at least early on, you’d likely go mad from the lack of stimulus, and we don’t want that.”

She raised her wrist and looked at an expensive-looking watch. “Dr Lewis should be just about done with her testing. See you soon, Helen.”

Suddenly Helen was back in the frame, and Dr Lewis was talking.

“...very satisfactory. Are you back with us Helen?”

“Mmm...” mumbled Helen through the mask.

“I’ll re-seal your brain now. Bear with me.”

Helen watched as Dr Lewis replaced something in her skull and applied sealants. She un-pinned the flap of skin she’d previously peeled back, and dexterously applied stitches to it, then applied a dressing on top.

“All done! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She unclipped Helen’s hair and ruffled it back into position. “Okay, let’s bring you back.” The frame rotated back, this time just bringing Helen past the vertical before stopping.

Dr Lewis stood in front of Helen, viewing her naked form appraisingly. “You have a fine body, Helen, especially after having two kids.” She turned to her white-clad staff. “Release her, please.”

They removed the mask from Helen’s face, the catheter from her urethra, and the drip from her arm. The figures then started to unfasten the bands and cuffs that had held Helen immobile during the operation.

“Steady, now.” Dr Lewis pushed down her own mask and rubbed her face. “You’ll probably still feel some effects of the paralysis, Helen. It will pass soon.” She paused. “I’m pleased with that work; it all went very smoothly. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your new experiences with Rori.”

Firm hands lifted Helen from the frame and onto her feet. Dr Lewis had been correct, her legs were wobbly and could barely support her. One figure reached her arm around Helen and guided her to a seat, then wrapped her in a robe. Helen gratefully clutched it around herself, feeling chills from the room’s air conditioning.

“Take her to Recovery, please. Goodbye, Helen. I hope to see you again.”

Not if I see you first, Helen thought. That pulled her up—her mind was still free! Trying to keep her face placid, she let herself be guided to her feet and through a door into a short corridor.

The corridor led to a warm room, decorated with soothing paintings and drapes, with a few easy chairs. The woman she’d previously seen hanging with her was sitting in one chair, eyes half-closed and body covered with a blanket. Someone dressed as a nurse was taking her vitals. Soothing music was playing in the background.

Helen spotted a pair of crutches propped up in a corner. They were metal, and reasonably long. They would do as a temporary weapon. She lunged with her arm to grab one.

At least, she had intended to lunge. Her mind was telling her that she had commanded it, but her arm hung placidly at her side. She passed the crutches without incident, and was eased into a chair. Her companion covered her with a blanket. It felt snug, and reassuring. Despite herself, she felt her fear recede.

“Rest, Helen.”

It was as if a dimmer switch had been turned in her brain. Her eyes closed most of the way, and a sense of peace washed over her.

Helen stared at the neatly folded pile of her clothes and accessories. Once she was awake again, she had been brought to a small changing room. The nurse who had escorted her here had delicately removed the dressing on the back of her head, inspected the wound and pronounced it satisfactory, then brushed out Helen’s hair to cover it. She was assured that the stitches would dissolve in a few days, and the scar would be minimal.

“You can get dressed now, and then I’ll take you to your car.” The nurse bustled out.

This was it? They were so confident that they were just letting her go?

Helen slowly pulled on her clothes, Her wristwatch was there along with her purse, so she could check the time: 4pm. Was it still the same day as she had entered the building? A quick check of her phone confirmed that it was.

The nurse returned. “Follow me, please.” She took the uncertain Helen along a winding corridor before opening a door into the building’s reception area. “Thank you, Helen! Normal work hours tomorrow.”

Whatever “normal” meant now, perhaps. Helen nodded uncertainly, and exited the building in search of her car. It was about a hundred yards away, and the cooling air helped clear her head somewhat. What should she do now? Go to the police? Contact her managers? Just go home?

She found herself in the car and on her way home. The stereo was playing her Spotify driving playlist, and her body seemed relaxed. Somehow, going home seemed the only thing to do: But she was determined to do something once she got there. All the time she was lining up to get in her building’s garage, and carefully moving around parking cars to reach her reserved space, she was planning what she would say to her company.

She unlocked her apartment door, opening it to find Consuela playing with Josie. Jacob was at the kitchen table doing his homework.

“Miss Helen, you’re back early.”

“Mommie!” Josie ran to hug her.

“Hi, baby. Hi, Consuela. Yes, I wasn’t feeling too well this afternoon.”

“Sit down; do you want some Advil?” Consuela opened a cupboard and rummaged inside it. “I made soup for the children, there’s some left I could microwave.”

“Soup would be wonderful, thank you.” Helen removed her shoes, hung up her jacket, and sank into a chair in the living room. She winced, and dug out a Power Rangers figure from under her leg.

“You got a parcel, Miss Helen.” Consuela passed her a package with corporate-looking branding on it.

Helen frowned: she wasn’t expecting anything. She unsealed the edge and pulled out a bubble-wrapped white box, about the size of a tea cup, with an integral power cord and a single data cable which terminated in an Ethernet jack.

“Oh yes; I just have to install this.” She walked into her crowded home office and plugged the device into the router there. It had a single status light that glowed blue. Inside her mind she suddenly caught herself: what was she doing? What was this device? But her body carried her back to the chair without any interruption.

She had been in the chair in a light doze for about twenty minutes when she suddenly jerked awake. She must have been more tired than she thought. It wasn’t surprising, really, considering what had happened to her that day.

“Soup’s ready, Miss Helen,” Consuela informed her. “You have a good sleep?”

“Thank you, yes...” She joined Jacob at the table. “How are you doing, buddy?”

“I’m nearly done with math.” He scratched away at some graph paper.

“He’s been ‘nearly done’ for the past hour.” Consuela placed a bowl of chicken soup in front of Helen. “How about you get ‘really done’, not ‘nearly done’, huh mister?”

“Yes, Consuela.”

She patted Helen’s arm. “Eat up.”

Helen sipped at the soup; it tasted really good, with the egg and corn making it thick and satisfying. She only now realized how hungry she was, and cut herself a slice of bread from the loaf on the table, smearing it with butter.

“You’ve got a good appetite tonight!” Consuela noted approvingly. She was often ragging on Helen about her terrible diet.

“It was a busy day!” Helen dipped the bread into the soup, and bit into it, savoring the taste. “Consuela, I’m going to do some meditation after dinner; can you get the kids bathed please, I’ll read them their stories after that.”

“Of course, Miss Helen.”

After polishing off the soup and two more slices of bread, the last one with some cheese and pickle, Helen retreated to her office. She closed the door and sat cross-legged on the floor.

Wait, she had never meditated before. Why was she starting now?

Suddenly she was back in the green room. This time there were more items there: a desk with a monitor and keyboard, and a tall bookcase filled with hardback titles.

Rori—Ro?—was there, waiting for her.

“The connection is working just fine.” She pointed at the new items. “The access point you just installed gives us high bandwidth access to Rori whenever you’re in range. Don’t worry, it won’t affect your house wifi or your Internet connection.” She smirked. “Your ISP has just, unaccountably, mistakenly switched you to a top-priority gigabit link with unlimited peering access. Enjoy the interrupt-free Netflix streaming.”

Helen glared at Ro. “You’ve been controlling my actions, you bitch.”

Ro giggled. “Of course I have, Helen, you silly girl. I can’t have you getting all violent, or trying to tell others Rori’s secrets, can I? And doesn’t meditation feel wonderful?” She walked over and poked at Helen’s stomach. “One of the side benefits—the implant uses a lot of energy. You can eat whatever you want, more or less, and not get fat; we’ll burn off all the calories. Isn’t that great? But no more wine, girl! It rots your brain. Rori needs your mind in top condition. She has invested a lot in you.”

Ro switched to a more business-like tone. “You’re going to call JoJo after this, and talk about Sally. Then tomorrow you’re going to report to the Ror-Ex medical center, so we can run diagnostics on your implant. I hope it goes well. Sometimes there’s neurological rejection; I don’t see signs of that currently, but I’d regret if that happened.”

“Because you wouldn’t be able to control me as well as you can now?” asked Helen, bitterly.

“That, and we’d have to eliminate you. Can’t have doctors examining you and discovering the implant, can we?” The matter-of-fact tone from Ro chilled Helen. “Normally we do it via a car crash—you turn the wheel at the wrong time, hit a truck in a head-on collision. We make sure there’s plenty of alcohol in your blood so that no-one investigates further. A shame if Josie and Jacob became orphans, and Consuela had to return to El Salvador, yes?”

Helen was defeated. She knew that Ro had the ability do to what she had just said, and that she would have not the smallest compunction in doing it.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Ro.”

JoJo was just starting to put his things together for leaving work when a video call came through from Helen. He immediately swung back to his monitor and clicked “Accept incoming call”.

“Helen! My favorite girl.”

“Oh, you say that to all the girls, you stud,” Helen smiled. Her screen background showed that she was in her home office rather than at Ror-Ex. “JoJo, a piece of news for you. I was talking with Sally; I don’t think she’s going to stay with us past the end of contract at Ror-Ex. She’s got a permie job in another state, starting soon.”

“Dammit. I’m going to miss her.” And he would; Sally was a top-notch worker, and never complained about assignments even if the days stretched out to 12 hours or more. “Is this a ‘maybe’ or a ‘definitely’?”

“More like ‘definitely’,” Helen confirmed. “She’s been wanting to be closer to family for a while, and looking for more of a career growth thing.”

“Okay; I’ll wait for her to get in contact. Thanks for letting me know, Helen. Is everything going well at Ror-Ex?”

“No problems here,” Helen nodded. “Looks like we’ll go to four weeks, but likely not beyond. That’s OK, there should be follow-on opportunities for other people in the team. They’re keen to get a broad range of people working with them, and they’re already asking me for recommendations of others in our company.” That was almost true—Rori was making her own selections of likely candidates from Helen’s extensive experiences with her contracting firm’s engineers.

“That sounds great. Expect a nice present in your Christmas stocking this year, girl.”

“Promises, promises. See you, JoJo.” Helen clicked off the call.

The following week, as he had expected, JoJo received a call from Sally.

“Hello, JoJo.” She seemed calm, not as hyped as she often was.

“Sally, my girl. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to tell you, JoJo, I’m going to be leaving the company in a few weeks. I’m looking to go permanent with another firm.”

“Ah, that’s disappointing.” JoJo silently thanked Helen for the heads-up. He already had most of the paperwork prepared. “Is the anything I can do to help persuade you to stay with us?”

“No, you have all been very kind. I am simply looking for something different. I’ve been here for three years now; it was time to try a new type of work.”

“I understand. So, you’ll finish the Ror-Ex contract at least?”

“Yes, of course. I will leave after that.”

“Well, I’m disappointed of course. We’re really going to miss you, you’re going to be hard to replace.” Having said that, JoJo already had four of his team lined up for Ror-Ex follow-on work, following Helen’s recommendations.

“I will send you a letter soon, confirming.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you for telling me, Sally. Good luck!”

“Thank you; goodbye.” Xiuying.2 hung up.

Rori had been correct, once again. There was no interest in her once they knew she was leaving. She could reappear at Ror-Ex and work full time for Rori without anyone noticing. Had Xiuying.2 had emotions any more, she would have smiled; as it was, there was no necessity, so she turned back to her work.

Two months later, Helen arrived at Ror-Ex on the way home from working at a credit union’s IT offices. She parked her car around the back, and entered via an anonymous door next to the loading bay, her access card permitting entry. This was the third such visit so far, and she knew the routine.

An attendant was waiting for her, and walked her to a small cell featuring a single chair. Helen took a seat. She was by now resigned to following her instructions without any attempt at rebellion: Ro no longer needed to intervene.

A broad metal band clicked around her neck, holding the back of her head against the sensor in the chair. Helen stiffened as vast quantities of information flowed between the sensor and her implant. Her vision greyed out, and suddenly she was back in the green room.

Ro was there, eating an apple and relaxing in a high-end office chair.

“I told you that the room would grow.” She gestured towards the walls, where one bookcase had become many, and where the shelves rose to a high ceiling. The single monitor had become a bank of eight. Strange patterns were starting to appear on the lower parts of the walls.

“We’re continuing to build our channels into and out of your mind, Helen. Rori is very pleased with your progress. You have contributed measurably to her processing and analytical power.”

“I’m just a brain for rent, you mean,” said Helen sarcastically. Ro picked up on the tone—or at least appeared to—and grinned. “A cerebral prostitute, you might say.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Helen. Think of everything you gain from being part of Rori. The knowledge, the safety, the comfort. Your children will never go hungry. Your employment is safe.”

“You made me send two more of my friends to Ror-Ex to become automatons,” Helen snapped back. “And as for the third—you took over Jenny’s brain like you’ve done with mine.”

“You underestimate what you have achieved,” said Ro, serenely. “You brought your friend Sally to Ror-Ex in the first place. Would you like to see what her successor, Xiuying.2 has been doing?”

The monitors lit up, showing various security camera footage. Despite herself, Helen walked over to look at it.

Gauri Gupta was washing up the coffee cups in her small kitchen sink when there came a knock on the door. She opened it, curious, and was surprised to see her friend Sally from work.

“Hey Sal! How are you? Come on in, mind the junk.”

Xiuying.2 entered, noting without emotion the crowdedness of the tiny apartment. Gauri was wearing workout sweats and still breathing quickly; Rori knew, and so Xiuying.2 knew, that she was a vigorous and dedicated exercise fan. That indeed was why she was required.

“I haven’t seen you for an age. Jonathan said that you left the firm—you got a permie job?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m back in town until the weekend to finish off some things. Do you want to get dinner? My treat, they just gave me my signing bonus.”

“I never refuse an offer like that!” Gauri had had dinner a few times with Sally in the past—they were both recent graduates, and so it was normally at a cheap hole-in-the-wall joint. Maybe this time they could make it to somewhere with tablecloths. Sally was wearing a nice dress, definitely a few notches up from her past going-out wear. “Give me like five minutes—ten at most—to have a quick shower.”

“Of course. There’s no rush.”

“Grab a soda from the fridge if you like.” Gauri disappeared into her tiny bathroom, and Xiuying.2 heard the water start running. She stood placidly, perfectly able to do so for hours at a time should Rori require it.

Fifteen minutes later, Gauri rushed past to her bed room, hair and body wrapped in towels. “Almost there! Just need to dry my hair.”

From Sally’s past experiences with Gauri, it would be at least another ten minutes. Sure enough, the timer had just reached twelve minutes when Gauri emerged, pushing her earring into place.

“Let’s go!” She grabbed her purse. “Anywhere in mind?”

“There’s a nice sushi place? It’s just a short drive away, I’ve got my car here.”

“I’m game.” Gauri left the apartment with Sally, and locked the door behind them before proceeding down the stairs to the garage.

A middle-aged woman was climbing up from the garage. As she passed Xiuying.2, there was a quick touch of their hands. Xiuying.2 continued down to the basement, hand now empty, while the woman proceeded up to Gauri’s apartment with Gauri’s spare key in her hand. The team which would empty the apartment was already on its way, dispatched from a removal company owned at arms-length by Ror-Ex.

Sally indicated a small VW parked in a guest spot. “It’s the blue one. Climb in.” She unlocked it with a bleeper.

Gauri jumped in the passenger seat. “Pedal to the metal, Sal!”

“Seatbelt first,” her friend reminded her.

“Oh, yeah...” Gauri fastened herself in with a ‘click’.

Something stung the back of Gauri’s neck. “Shit! Was that a bee?” She tried to twist around, though the seatbelt hampered her.

A small woman was sitting in the rear seat, just behind Gauri. Gauri hadn’t noticed her when entering the car; she must have been crouching in the footwell. A syringe was visible in her hand.

“Who are you? Sal, who is this? Ugh!” Gauri started to feel numbness spread through her face and jaw. She fumbled for the door, but Xiuying.2 had re-locked it. Suddenly it was getting very hard to hold her head up.

The woman behind her reached around and fastened something under Gauri’s jaw to hold her head horizontally. She now faced forward, unable to move or even make a sound other than a squeak as her vocal cords were frozen. Her hands flopped, useless.

“She’s ready. Let’s go, Xiuying.2.” The woman fastened her own seatbelt, and Xiuying.2 drove carefully out of the garage. She passed a number of security cameras on the way, but was serene in the knowledge that Rori would only allow those cameras to store the footage that she wanted.

Helen’s lip trembled. She had watched a series of security camera footage, including some video and audio streamed from the door-facing camera inside Gauri’s apartment, which left her in no doubt that Sally had just kidnapped Gauri. And it didn’t take much imagination to guess where they were going, or what would happen to Gauri.

In that last assertion, she was mistaken.