The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Russell Brooks watched with bleary eyes as Shannon Milner stepped in front of him. As head of Radial Dynamics, her visit was not unusual. But there was somewhat more to it than that. He pulled at the straps that held him in his guest chair and cursed his cock for feeling so damned good just from looking at her dark hose and platform boots.

He still wasn’t sure how he had ended up like this, but there was a part of him that saw it as the right place to be. He had watched her strap him in as if he were watching an old man feeding pigeons in the park.

That is not how he was looking at her legs now, however. He remembered being immune to such things, but it was of no consequence. He was a leg man as of this moment. Specifically, he was a Shannon Milner’s leg man as of this moment.

And it didn’t stop with her legs. Her body, which he had even earlier this morning considered so thin and gaunt as to look unnatural and wholly unattractive, filled him with lust he hadn’t known even in the most hormone laden days of his youth.

But he was driven. In charge. As CEO of Brooks Security Solutions International, he would certainly not succumb to this harlot, this scoundrel, this... vision of absolute loveliness and power. He sighed as desire and love began to intermingle inside his fractured mind.

“Where there is love there is trust, don’t you think, Russell?” It was as if she could read his every thought. His heart leaped as he realized that nothing was hidden from her, even as he fought to cling to the last vestiges of rationality.

That voice. How had it changed? It hadn’t. But it now held him in its grasp like a vice. He couldn’t help but listen, nearly drooling for another phrase, even a hint of a syllable.

“And you trust me, don’t you?”

“N—n—...” he mumbled, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, refusing to let him finish the word.

“Oh, I see. You need a little more motivation. I don’t mind. I could do this in less than a heartbeat, you know. But I happen to like the look in your eyes as you fall hopelessly in love with me, obedient to every whim like a poor little puppy, willing to do anything for a pat on the head.”

She reached over to the phone on Russell’s desk and dialed a two-digit number. She smiled at him with closed lips as she waited for an answer. Russell swooned, but she turned away from him as she was connected to his secretary.

“Doris? Be a dear, please, and call Russell’s wife—no, better yet, make the calls necessary for him to be gone for the afternoon, and then leave for the day. You can visit his wife.

“Shhh, shhh... I know you’re excited. Take a Q-box with you. Give her the main obedience reality, and show her how to be a Domme to her hubby here.

“Doris? By example, sweetie. Show her the light... and the error of her previous ways. It’s the least I can do for your work getting me in here so I could ‘educate’ your boss.

“No, it’s fine... you don’t have to do anything extra for me. Just do your very best for me. Thanks, dear. You’re a gem.”

Shannon winced and held the phone away from her ear as a deep moan poured out of the receiver. “Mm-bye, dear,” she said, and hung up.

Russell’s neck was bulging as he fought to free himself. Not to escape, but to lower himself before her.

As if showing clairvoyance again, she said, “Oh, Russell. Only the most obedient receive the privilege of kneeling in front of me. Well, the most obedient women. Men aren’t fit to lick the bottom of my shoes. Are they?”

“NO!” The word finally came unglued, surprising him with its force and conviction.

“And you’ll include the Q-chip in your new products?”

Russell glared at her. He dared not speak. He had to hold on. He had to keep her from doing this. He could not remember why.

“Hmm. I wonder when you’ll finally fall to your new self? You’re mostly new already, aren’t you,” she said. Her laughter made him tremble and quake—aching for the honor of licking the ground where she had walked. What had happened to his self-respect?

Shannon walked behind him and to his desk. She picked up something that looked like a hand-held barcode scanner and placed it to his temple.

She pulled the trigger-button and began to speak. “You love me. You trust me. You cannot refuse the woman of your dreams. Me.” She stayed still, keeping the device in place as the CEO’s muscles clenched in response. But the spasms didn’t compare to the jumble in his mind, which was too busy assimilating new realities to think about anything but how wonderful she was and how she deserved anything he could give.

“It is time for more truth, now, but we’ll start with what you already know. So far, you are horny for me like never before in your life. Every aspect of me that occurs to you makes you more horny for me. More trusting. More obedient. Ah, but that’s just the beginning, isn’t it. You remember now that you have been falling in love with me for years, and were still falling a few moments ago... and at this very moment, it has happened. It has happened. You undying love for me is real. It is tangible, concrete. It is stamped into your heart and soul, chaining them to me in ways deeper than you can know, no matter how deep you look. It is irreversible. It never fades but only grows deeper and deeper.

“To love me is to obey me. You are willing to do anything for that love, even though you know you are not worthy to touch me or even speak my name. Therefore, you call me Superior when we’re alone, and Director when we are not. This is how it has always been, and you feel guilty for having not done so in the past. To others, you refer to me as your ‘Superiors’ because I am worth ten of you or anyone else. Any other current superior must be brought under my control by you, as I see fit. Feel it sinking into you, Russell. Becoming you. Becoming what is and always has been true, like the physical laws of the Universe. Do you see more clearly now?”

Russell was getting the message. Living the message. He had tried to ignore it, but the guilt-laden effort was to no avail, as evidenced by the growing wet spot on the front of his pants.

His consciousness shifted.

He went from an inner rebel watching himself be controlled, to an obedient toy, watching some strange and feeble part of himself resist what was only natural and proper.

“You have no choice Russell. You have never had a choice. That is clear and beautiful to you. You are mine. Forever. Until death do us part, and even then you won’t be free. It is instinctual. Basic to your entire being. But I have to be sure you understand. Do you want to show me you understand?”

Through gritted teeth, Russell nodded his head. The reality of what was happening was too strong to do anything else.

“Tell me. Do you want to show me you understand?”

“Yyyy. Yyyy. Yyyyes, Sup... erior.” Russell’s body collapsed as the last of his resistance shattered.

Shannon cooed in happy appreciation of the moment. “Oh, good boy. Very good. Now, bite off the tip of your tongue and cum for Superior. No noise, Russell.”

She watched as blood poured from his mouth and his body shook in uncontrolled, silent climax. It seemed to go on and on until finally he dropped, slack in the bonds that held him in his chair, eyes still not moving from the object of his most basic desire.

“Sorry for that, but I had to be sure. For some, even that is not enough. Be thankful you are not among the strongest of your gender.”

Russell beamed with gratitude.

“Now, tell me what it is we are going to do.”

Russell pulled himself together a bit before speaking. It was only right, after all. She was his Superior.

“We are gohlin to phlut the Q-Chip iln elvery prohlduct we hlsell, iln a wlay that woln’t be dilscolvered, Superior.”

“Yes, that’s right, you sweet man. I’m so glad I was able to convince you. Now... what have you got in mind? Surely a smart boy like yourself has a few ideas.”

“Yels, Superior.”

“And quit favoring your tongue. You sound like an idiot. So straighten up and tell me what these ideas are...”

April looked at the pen in her fingers like she was staring at a dagger pulled from a dead body. It was at once both sinister and merciful, both dangerous and powerful. She turned it over once and felt its weight. Considered it.

Then in a delicate script, she wrote, “Diana Rollins.”

She committed the name to memory and handed the registration card back to the hotel clerk. She didn’t look him in the eyes. In fact, she barely faced him at all as he spoke. “That’ll be one hundred dollars a week, or twenty-five a night. Four-fifty for a month, Miss... Rollins.”

He grinned at her, taking in her wild, short red hair and tight jeans and giving her the knowing kind of look reserved for the hookers who frequented his establishment. His establishment was the Reismann-Dabney Hotel.

It was a dank, musty place that smelled of dried sex, cheap wine and urine. The threadbare carpet was at least as old as April—maybe older. The front desk was covered with scratched obscenities and memorials to lost souls from decades past. It was one of a thousand such places mothers hoped their children would never frequent.

She lay three crisp one hundred dollar bills on the counter and walked away with a key whose dirty fob had the numbers “726” written in faded white-out.

This was now the residence of April Stonestreet, aka Diana Rollins.

She passed by the elevators and took the stairs. At every landing, she looked out the window and down the fire escape into the alley, making sure it was still empty. She felt almost positive that she hadn’t been followed, but right now, any gap between belief and certainty was a chasm whose edges she did not trust to remain in place.

She unlocked the door to her room and walked in. New smells accosted her nose—cheap antiseptic and pine, the perfume of flophouses. Soon enough, the smell faded into the background of her awareness. Shortly after that, she couldn’t have smelled it if she tried.

“If a toilet smells in the bathroom, and there’s no one around to sniff, does it really have an odor?” she mumbled. There was no amusement in her voice, but there was bitterness. Fear. Anger. Fatigue.

Again, she checked the window, and drew the curtains closed. She wasn’t satisfied, but it would have to do. It was the best she could find. She walked over to the bed and sat facing the door. She needed sleep. Even her hair felt tired. But rest wasn’t in her future anytime soon.

She needed to contact Sanderson back at headquarters, but she couldn’t risk the call. She needed to move on, but that was even more dangerous than staying put. Every moment on the street was another chance to be recognized. Director Milner’s organization had people in the most unlikely places.

Director Milner’s organization. It wasn’t accurate, but it was the best she could do for a description. As far as April could tell, Director Milner was one of several top agents for Central Command, so she was more like member than an owner. Milner was the only link April had made with the shadowy, secret entity—a group whose existence was theoretical at best, but whose tendrils had the possibility of leading anywhere and everywhere.

“Mr. Holmes, may I present Dr. Moriarty,” she thought, this time allowing herself a slight smile.

On the face of it, Director Milner was the head of Radial Dynamics, Inc., a large defense contractor specializing in Molecular Processors - computers so small as to be unseen, but able to network together to form tactical matrix networks. The big project at the moment had to do with using unsuspecting civilians in foreign countries to keep track of conditions there using just such an informational matrix. Using eyes and ears as unknowing cameras and microphones, the MPs were so small and individual that finding one was like trying to find a single sand pebble in the dunes at Panama City Beach.

The DOD, being the paranoid people they were, were worried that their money was being used to fund other research. April’s agency, Covert Security Resource Assessment, was contacted and asked to check out RDI and find out what, if anything, had been going on that didn’t match up. She had been hired by RDI along with two co-agents—all experts in microdynamics—a team headed by Mabel Smith, and April’s occasional partner, Matthew Dardell. They reported to Deputy Director Sanderson both individually and as a group.

The investigation was supposed to last six weeks at most, but it had been nearly a year since they had started. There was so much more to go over than had been expected. Not only that, but because of the classified nature of the work done there, protocol had forced them to stay in facilities at the huge RDI laboratory complex near Albuquerque, New Mexico. Her reports had been sent and received, and Mabel had gotten authorization for the continuances.

They had been on the project eight months when something happened that changed everything. Mabel had been on the verge of ending the investigation when she happened on a conversation that threatened the agents’ lives, with the logical consequence of creating the need for them to stay.

RDI had developed mind control and had been willing to get rid of the agents in order to move forward. Luckily, the overheard talk warned them, and the attempt failed before it had begun.

Director Milner had acted horrified, but the team knew its cover was blown. It only gave Director Milner a chance to order “round the clock protection” for them while RDI looked into the matter.

Mabel, Matthew, and April had no choice but to play it out and continue their task. At first, they couldn’t find much on anything as insidious as mind control, but there were tiny pieces of the puzzle everywhere they looked. Eventually the picture began to become clearer. There was something called a “Q-Field” mentioned in certain documents that was purported to warp the minds of those subjected to it into anything the operator wanted them to believe.

What took longer to figure out was that they, along with everyone at RDI, were being subjected to the Q-Field more and more as the days passed. Mabel had managed to come up with a field-reversing device that had protected them to some degree, but it was only a matter of time until it would no longer be enough.

It was decided that April would leave. By now, they knew she would not be allowed to go voluntarily, but she managed an escape with the help of Matthew who, despite recent events, was still heading up RDI Security Protocol. Regardless, she knew it would not be long before she was missed and the chase was on, if it wasn’t already.

She looked out the window again at the darkened alley. Sat back on the bed.

The worst of it was the ache in the pit of her stomach at betraying Superi... Shannon Milner. She knew it was not of her own making, but that didn’t make it any less potent. She had been on the verge of tears since she left RDI. She had nearly turned back several times, and with each urge to return, she felt a wave of pleasure pass through her. It was like slow torture, with each passing moment calling her back to pleasing Director Milner and earning the reward of ungodly pleasure.

And she worried for Mabel and Matthew. There was no telling how long Mabel’s electronic defenses would be effective, regardless of the imrovements she continued to make. And this disappearance of hers would certainly accelerate Milner’s plans.

April knew she would have to leave soon.

Tomorrow.

Maybe the day after.

She wept at the pain she felt from the thought of reporting her situation. She picked up the phone and slammed it back down, her mind filled, without warning, with desperate panic.

She didn’t know if it was her, or something that was her that had not been her before. She couldn’t tell the difference.

April Stonestreet was in deep, deep trouble.

At almost the same moment, Matthew Dardell was very uncomfortable. He was in the office of the Director herself, and there was constant buzzing in his head of mixed emotions, like those of a flame-obsessed moth.

To and fro. To and fro. Hot. Cold.

While secretly happy the escape had worked, the simple words the Director spoke stung more than one of her tirades. He’d been through that before, and it was bad enough to never repeat. But the calm rebuke she delivered spoke volumes of real, thorough disappointment. It was painful to disappoint the Director, even though he was not fully in her grasp.

To and fro.

“What is your job title, Matthew?”

“Chief of Security Protocol, Director Milner.”

“No. You are an Internal Detective.”

“I am an Internal Detective, Director Milner.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve done or said right today, Matthew. I’m terribly let down. Just terribly. April is important to us. She wasn’t quite as important yesterday, but now that she’s managed to slip from our grasp, she is the most important person in the entire company. She’s the first runner we’ve had in years. And you are the one who let her run. It was your faulty security planning that made her escape possible.”

Matthew dropped his head in supplication. Although he knew what was happening, had even planned the breakout, it didn’t make the gentle pleasure of submission any less sweet. “I’m sorry, Director,” he whispered. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

“First, tell me how she eluded Quantum Redirection. And don’t tell me she didn’t. If she hadn’t, she would still be here, working feverishly on refinements to the next generation of Q Chip.”

“She had some kind of reversing field in her office, Director,” he said, faster than was appropriate. “It was ingenious... built into the top of her desk. We only detected it after she was gone...”

“Have you figured out its primary weakness? A way around it?”

“No, Director, but we have the top people on it already.” He felt relieved that he was still able to cover it up, but winced at the guilt in the pit of his stomach.

“Well, at least there’s that. Now, beyond your lateral reassignment and demotion, I must consider what to do with you. After all, I can’t have a spy running my security, can I? I think we’ve played this game long enough.”

Matthew grimaced, but didn’t speak. It was futile to protest what they both knew was true.

Milner noted the reaction, glanced at her computer screen and felt the corners of her mouth twitch towards a smile. “Go clean out your office. Report to Chief Internal Detective Hammond. By the time you get there, I’ll have decided what further to do with you, if anything, and send instructions. You may be of some use to me, yet.”

“Yes, Director Milner. It shall be done.”

“Of course it will. Shut the door on your way out.”

“Yes, Director Milner.”

She watched him leave, and pressed a button on her desk intercom. “Advisor, did you hear?”

“Yes, Superior.” The voice was female. Sultry. Focused.

“And?”

“And he is lying. The desktop device was a working decoy, meant to halt further investigation. The real device was hidden in the doorframe to Stonestreet’s office.

“Matthew also escaped Redirection to a degree, although all of them have been affected. He is particularly susceptible to shame motivation. He has accepted the more simple precepts of Central Command directives.

“As for the team, they have not gotten as far as you feared. They still think that Quantum Field Redirection is merely a device for mind control.”

“Options?”

“Only one. Full basal Quantum Redirection with direct cranial insertion of Molecular Receptors. And a new classification for him.”

“Not Internal Detective? What do you advise?”

“Assassin, Superior.”

“Thank you, Virginia.”

“You’re welcome, Superior. Sanderson out.”

Matthew heard fumbling sounds long before he opened his eyes. The back of his head was throbbing. He reached up with his hand and felt the swollen place under his hair, as if he’d been hit on the head. He winced as pain shot through his entire body.

He peeked out to see what was visible. His eyes focused on flowers on a credenza across from his bed. This was not the room in which he had gone to sleep. He sniffed the air. Alcohol. Ether. Chemicals. Infirmary.

“Welcome back, Matthew.”

He groaned at the sound of the voice. “Back to what?” he croaked. “From what?”

“From a successful implantation of the next generation of Quantum Receptors. To whatever Central Command decides is your fate. Don’t worry. You’ll like the choice. Not that the choice will be yours.”

“Ah. Mabel. I didn’t recognize you for a second.” Relief washed across him. He was safe. This was his first assignment with Mabel, and he had discovered her legendary status was not overstated. Flexible, subtle, smart.

“Implants?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I hope they’re the ones you were working on and not the real ones.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Listen, the increased intensity of the general Q Field is taking its toll. I found myself feeling literal pain at having let down Director Milner.”

“Yes. Well, everything is taken care of. There’s no need for Reversers now.”

“You mean you’ve managed to disable the Q Field Generators? I’m impressed.”

“No, the QFG’s are even more efficient. And they can overpower Reversers at close range. Soon, it will be at any range. It was time for new technology.

“Quiet, now. They’re coming to take you. You’ll be fully awake in another thirty minutes. Until then, lay still.”

Even in his groggy state, the meaning and warning in her words did not elude him. For a moment, he wondered if something had gone wrong. There was a double meaning to her words he didn’t like.

“Take him to the Primary Q Chamber,” Mabel said to someone to the left and rear of Matthew’s bed. Matthew couldn’t see who it was, but he felt the bed begin to roll. His hand reached for Mabel’s and she took it. He squeezed three times, a query to ask if all was well. She squeezed back twice, then once, then twice, and let go.

He relaxed visibly. He didn’t know what she had planned, but he knew he didn’t need to worry. Even if slightly affected as the rest of them had been by the Q Field, it would be impossible to wipe away twelve years of training and service without taking an exorbitant amount of time and with no signs of mind-tampering. And her response told him that there was no way she’d allow him into Primary without protection.

Working with her was almost as nice as working with April. Mabel danced the dance well, but April was the Prima Ballerina, lacking only the time to reach the status of Mabel... maybe even higher.

He missed April like crazy. Despite his professional stance with her, he admired her for more than her tenacity and prowess. He also liked her. Understood her. In some way, he thought he might even love her. It would be good when he finally got to see her again.

As he was wheeled down the hall, he almost felt like whistling.

Mabel watched from the doorway. With an absentminded gesture, she reached to the back of her head. The swelling was almost gone now, and the pain was fully melded with the pleasure swarming in her sweltering cunt.

She pressed her legs together and hoped with all her heart that Superior would be pleased.

The Primary Quantum Chamber was unremarkable to see, in a profound sort of way. Sitting in the treatment chair was like being inside a gray egg. The color had the eerie effect of feeling like fog when closed inside, without dimension or orientation.

There was no sound, no view of anything. Even the door disappeared once closed. Matthew knew he was on one side of the room, but only because he had seen it in operation in video mockups of the experience, and they were impressive enough. However, there was every indication that the reality was far beyond anything that could be described. At least, no one coming out of the chamber could relate anything that had happened.

The center of the chamber began to sparkle. In the visual ennui of the room, Matthew’s eyes were drawn to it as if turned by an unseen hand. The event was focused into an elongated sphere, but size was impossible to guess, because distance was impossible to know.

It grew. Got closer. Something. It seemed to be shaping itself in odd and disorienting ways, now. Matthew watched, fascinated as colors swirled and coalesced and faded to silver and then back again. This was something few enough had seen. He would be sure to include it in his report to Sanderson. This was the stuff upon which careers were made.

The amorphous mass of color and sparkes shaped itself into something familiar but not quite recognizable. Emotions splashed inside and he felt surprise as his cock stiffened. “Great... a multi-billion dollar sex toy,” he mused in silence.

Seductive. There was a bright flash and the colored sparkles expanded to life-sized iridescence. He gasped. It was like an abstract painting—like a free-form, living sculpture. As realization blasted through him, he felt his body twitch in ticklish, itchy climax, and expected to feel semen spurting into his shorts. It didn’t come. The sensation was nowhere and everywhere, like an orgasm carried through him on the wind.

It was much better than sex. Its body-focus slowly crept away, but not the disorientation that had come with it. There was only one thing he could hold onto... the glimmering amorphous shape that was like some recurring dream, as if he’d seen it more than a thousand times.

He saw. Felt. Knew. The shape was him. No, it didn’t look like him. It was beyond that. It wasn’t something he was or had, it was that which was and owned those things. It was everything that composed Matthew Dardell... the essence of existence that carried his name and lived in this body-container.

Matthew felt tears on his cheek. It was beautiful. He had never known how miraculous he was.

The water tripped an alarm in his mind. Mabel. Where was Mabel? Why was he unable to get a grip on things? Why was he having such a strong response? Something was wrong, but he was losing the struggle to figure out what it could possibly be. Oh yes, Mabel. Mabel had sent him here. No, not Mabel. Superiors. Mabel was following orders. Following orders. He just had time to spasm as he questioned this unforeseen betrayal.

A tingle under his scalp and behind his eyes answered him. He wept again in joy as he watched himself exist without form, in time and space. Everything was potential, every possibility open. His mind screamed in ethereal splendor as he slipped further into wonder and awe.

The form was changing, now. Warping. Shifting. Becoming something else. Something hidden and dark and sinister. The lurid temptation of sweet corruption started to overtake him. He pushed away, but his head and body pulled at him, pulled him back to see who he was. To accept who he was. To be who he was. Was now.

Pleasure-soaked evil leeched into his thoughts. It was impossible to fight. The thoughts weren’t imposed on him. They were his. Beautiful, evil, obedient, owned thoughts. Obsessed. Sly. Clever. Destructive. Sadistic. His cock was leaking pre-cum freely and had become something of steel rather than flesh, waiting for the moment his climax would meet him in the physical world, drowning him in an impossible orgasmic swamp.

He accepted it freely. The shaped was imploding now, slow and brooding, like a caged animal. Obedient, perfect animal. He tried to think. The Quantum Redirector was closing off possibilities, and he could feel himself forgetting them, his mind losing the knowledge of anything but his present reality, event by event, thought by thought. Pathways were blunted and had always been so. He tried to push into them, only to find himself being pulled backwards into new existence, new pleasure, new submission. A tool of Central Command. All thoughts open. All directives obeyed. It was who he was. It was... yes... who he wanted to be.

The shape coalesced into a pinpoint of light and moved towards him. He orgasmed and accepted. He could feel the mindless rush of pleasure as it moved through his nerves, stimulating every nerve ending in his body.

The light moved closer. He hungered for it. It was all he was, all he had.

It was all he desired. It was all he was allowed to desire. He would obey.

As the miracle of the collapse into singular reality moved into him, his cock spewed out its treasure and he convulsed as pleasure reserved for those who know their destiny invaded and overtook him. He shook for what seemed an eternity as muted grunts escaped his lips and spurred him onward into a vision of service and obedience to his Superior.

He passed out in paradise.

When he awoke, he was a new man who had always been who he was now. He had always been here, but was finally free to show himself. Free to obey. To the death. Of himself. Of others.

Especially others.

He thought of April Stonestreet and smiled. It was going to be very good to see her again.