The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Make me want you again, Talya,” Ellory said. “Please.”

Talya smoothed the hair to one side of Ellory’s head, and smiled with compassion.

“I’ll make you,” she said. “I’ll make you over into wanting that.”

She was a sad slave. She was a sad slave and getting sadder. Sad to be a slave, and sad not to be the only slave; sad to not only be loved. Still sad from the time before she’d known Talya as her mistress, still sad from the time she’d been free, for the loss of the freedom, for the loss of equal relating to Talya and the forced hierarchy obedience deposited on her. She’d wanted Talya as just a woman then, but Talya had made that want into something else and that sadness had never left her.

Talya had stripped all of her former life, too; and yet she was still sad from the time before Talya had made herself the center of Ellory’s universe, the sun for her planet to orbit— sad for the loss of equality, sad for the loss of the woman she herself had been and could no longer remember. Sad for so many things— even slave things, as a slave.

Sad that she was not Talya’s only slave— sad that she was not any more special to Talya then any other slave she had when she had fallen for her, and it was too painful to say that more explicitly, fallen for her and the feelings had been used to make this. It was like the original sadness burst constantly through the slave sadness, but there was plenty of that too. The conditioning had got deep enough to make Ellory’s mind a slave’s mind, even if it had never reached deeply enough to right her in her soul. And with her slave’s mind she could be sad that her obedience wasn’t anymore special than that which Talya’s other slaves could give her. With her slave’s mind she could be sad, and wish that there was some individual act that she could carry out which would set her above the pack.

Or she could be sad that her enslavement was never perfected. She was broken in a way the other slaves weren’t. None of them felt sad— all those lingering feelings that underpinned resistance had been written out of them by Talya’s steady brainwashing, and they had all since become perfected smiling machines who were happy to be that way and never sad at all. She was the only one it seemed the sadness could never be cleared out of. It was too deep into her soul, and it was there whether it came through the slave interface or not.

It was so powerful that when it did come up from her soul into her mind, her mind had to find rational, reasonable enslaved-appropriate reasons for the sadness to direct it into; so she could only become sad as a slave would become, about topics that centered on obedience, or her own failings of perfection in relation to them. But the sadness didn’t come from there. It came from deep roots, and only reshaped itself to come out in that form because her brain needed it to come out that way to hold her tenuous sanity together.

So she could feel sad in her soul as a free girl would feel— but in her mind interpret it as only a slave would feel, and the solution the brainwashing had taught her when the sadness was starting to split her was to submit to further brainwashing. As a slave she could know her brokenness and want its fixing all the more keenly— and seek to resolve it the only way she could, by asking for Talya’s power to fill her, and fix her, and hold her together at least for the time she was in possession of her. So she could plead for Talya to make her want Talya. She never quite managed to do it on her own— the sadness always got in the way, but the enslavement had been successful enough to make her wish that she could want Talya— and when Talya was asked, luckily she could delivery.

She was only here because Talya had summoned her to her bedroom— Talya knew the defect that was in her the same as she knew it herself, and she checked up on her much more frequently than the other slaves, who were so automatized that they could run on without any maintenance. She had sat on the bed when Talya had told her too, and tried not to recoil when Talya had sat down too— and then she had nearly burst into tears, and then before she could, she had made her plea instead.

Now Talya guided her back into lying on the bed with her head on the pillow, and her body was turned facing towards Ellory. She lay along her side, on her own side of her body, and considered Ellory from the vantage point provided to her by the hand that propped her head up off of the elbow that rested on the other pillow.

“You want to want me now?”

Ellory nodded and feared she would cry again. “Please.”

“Then just listen to my voice, pretty girl— you’re so pretty and I can make you prettier. You know the prettiest girls of all are the ones with empty heads.”

She sighed in relief, and was aware of it only distantly. The turmoiling seas of her heart had been set to placidity with the touching down of that phrase. Her mind had long since been primed for it and knew how to receive it— everything else had been shut off. Everything else had been shut down. She couldn’t remember what she had been thinking about before. She couldn’t think about anything new now. Talya was beside her and she was the most important thing in the world— and the most beautiful— the most attractive— she needed to be serving her and it hurt that she was not—

A finger was pressed to her lips, and it was only by that pressing which she realized that she had been babbling her nonthoughts for Talya to hear. “Shh. Pretty girls don’t hurt.”

When she heard that she felt herself brought down to a new level. A deeper level. She forgot again what she had been thinking about. She hadn’t been thinking about anything. She was only happy, filled with joy. There was nothing else— Talya was so beautiful, and so attractive, she hoped she would able to attend her. She had to wait patiently on her mistress to see if she would be.

“Reverse yourself, so you’re lying along me the other way, with your head just at my center.”

Ellory scrambled to do it— she lined her lips up to Talya’s lower set, but waited.

She felt Talya’s breath on her own secondary lip-set, her second mouth, and it was warm there, but she was waiting too.

“Pretty girls remember what they’re told to remember. And my pretty girl remembers now that I’m telling her— the pleasure helps her to be even prettier for me, helps her to be the prettiest slave of all and the most obedient too. The more she gets it, the more it brainwashes her, and brainwashes her into being my most perfect slave.”

Ellory was pretty— did remember. The pleasure bejewelled her even as it brainwashed her— the brainwashing bejewelled her too, for it and the pleasure were one and the same— she was already feeling the warming presence of arousal from the inside of her body, cradling itself in her breasts and other pleasures, so she was already being brainwashed again— Talya’s power was always living inside her and feeding off her and she could remember that now too, because the brainwashing was using that information to constrain her further, and change her too— she tried to exhale but the feeling was so powerful she couldn’t—

“Lick for me now, pretty girl,” came Talya’s command, and it happened. Her tongue came out of her mouth and licked at Talya’s lower one. She almost wished there was a tongue to be found inside there, as there would be in Talya’s upper mouth. She wanted to be kissing Talya, and tasting the tongue of her first mouth, not the absence of tongue in her second, as she plugged her own tongue in and out of it— but it was a bad thought and she needed to confess it because pretty girls never wanted anything but what they were told to want, and she hadn’t been told to want that, and she was pretty now because the brainwashing was bejewelling her— and she was feeling brainwashing spark between her legs and all through her body because Talya was licking it into her there, giving her her licks as ruthlessly as she might have done with a whip— she didn’t need to stop and confess because the brainwashing was already correcting her, more thoroughly and more completely than a primed trigger command spoken by Talya would have. And begging for such a triggering would have been disobedient— Talya wanted to be licking and kissing at her slave’s second mouth with her slave licking and kissing at her own, and for Ellory to stop and beg, it would mean that both those actions would have to stop in order for Talya to command her verbally. She could command her much more effectively with pleasure-brainwashing.

It got Ellory deep but it never got into her soul and she always wished it would—

She didn’t have time to feel sad about that, because she had never thought it at all. Pretty girls didn’t think when they were getting brainwashed and she was getting brainwashed and she loved to be brainwashed. It felt so good in her body, the brainwashing washing all through her, clearing her to empty and leave only the slave behind, the slave she became more each and each time she was put through a session again.

She wriggled against Talya’s tongue— Talya took her pleasure much more gracefully, with much more practice and restraint, but Ellory wished she could lick her wild, wild enough that that restraint would crack—

She only wanted to lick Talya exactly as she wanted to be licked. She only wanted to lick her mistress as her mistress wished to be licked. There was no other way to do it— slaves were slaves, they could not invent original thoughts. All their thoughts had to be thought for them, chewed up in another mouth and then spit into their own for them to swallow down without hesitation, pre-digested so it would go easier on their own stomachs.

She wondered if Talya held something else in her mouth now that was all chewed up, waiting to be spit into the mouth that was between Ellory’s legs. If it was spit in that way, would she absorb it upwards through her body, ascending from base to surface?

Or was there something in Talya’s lower mouth, equally chewed up and waiting to come into the mouth that Ellory was kissing and licking with? If she kissed and licked enough, might she stir that hidden contraband up, and cause it to seep past her first set of lips for her to swallow down her throat? Whichever she swallowed, and whichever way it came into her, from base to surface or surface to base, would absorbing it be enough? Would absorbing it be deep enough that it would finally get to her sou—

She was a slave. She was not capable of original, inventive thought. The brainwashing was telling her so in the way it moved so feelgoodingly through her, and she believed it. She was not capable of original inventive thought, not capable of drawing parallels between differing parts of her anatomy, not capable of thinking of mouths, or taking in metaphors throw them and trying to absorb the deeper concepts behind them that way. She was not capable of remembering that thing she kept wishing for, kept trying to get— she was trying to move something somewhere, but that somewhere could never be reached, because it was not for her to say that something should reach into there. It wasn’t her decision to make. She was a slave.

She was a slave being brainwashed into lacking identity, into facelessness, and still she couldn’t forget— she wanted it to be her decision to make, she wanted to be able to say that that thing she wanted should get to be exactly where she wanted it. If it would only be there she would properly be a slave— fully— she could be pretty all the time, practice slavery smilingly like the other—

There were no others. There was nothing beyond this room, or beyond Talya, her mistress, who was licking her so much better now. She had started with more restrained movements, but now she was fully kissing and making out with her lips between Ellory’s legs— Ellory was too insensible to know at all what she was doing between Talya’s legs. Her mind wasn’t necessary for this pattern to be carried out— she had been programmed with Talya’s preferred pattern of movement, and her body new how to deliver it without her intercession. She didn’t know what intercession was, why had she used that word? She didn’t know what a metaphor was— when had she been thinking about that? When had she been thinking about those mysteries?

The brainwashing had her near-totally now, yet it felt like she was still wrestling with it. She was trying to pull it somewhere deeper, trying to force it to take her somewhere deeper, wrangling with it like a… like a… she couldn’t make comparisons anymore. She’d never been able to, it wasn’t in a slave’s nature, though somehow she could just slip it in, past the brainwashing’s reach for a second before it seized hold of it and destroyed it. If she had been able to draw comparisons, she would have likened it to wrangling with a snake.

She forgot what she had just been thinking about. She had never been thinking at all. All these thoughts she was not thinking were the same and they made her feel something she wasn’t supposed to be feeling. She was pretty— she was beautiful, so she couldn’t be feeling that forbidden thing at all. She couldn’t even remember the name of it, what it was called, so if she couldn’t remember that, she couldn’t really be feeling it then, could she? Pretty girls couldn’t be that. They couldn’t be… sad—

All these forbidden words she tried to think— fought to think— kept being ripped away from her. She wanted that. She was still wrangling the brainwashing to try and make it take her deeper, but it never did. She fought it and resisted it to force it to break her down, but she never broke completely. Even when it stole words and concepts away, even when it erased near-memory, there was an awareness left she didn’t want. Even when it got foggier and foggier, and lost its specificity, she still didn’t want it.

Talya was shuddering against her tongue— there was no way for Ellory to know how many releases of pleasure she had conduited for her mistress, because her awareness was too hazy. Too hazy and never enough. And she could not find her own release of pleasure, because a release of pleasure was a release of brainwashing, and it meant all her lessons had to be locked in to cap off another session— and this brainwashing session was not over until Talya said, so she had to feel the brainwashing keep playing with her, and frustrate herself as she struggled to make it give her more.

She felt Talya pull back from her lips. “Lie back along me now so we’re face to face.”

In the instructed position, Ellory looked into Talya’s eyes, but could find no oblivion in them until Talya told her, and it seemed Talya would not tell.

“I want you to be aware of me now as I control you so deeply. Perfectly aware of me now as I speak.”

Ellory’s awareness was never more than half-shrouded, but it still felt refreshing to see that half-shroud lift. She was listening now and taking in the full significance of Talya’s speech.

“You want my control to get all the way into your soul. You’ve told me this. You want it to fix the split you have there. The defect. The defect of heartbreak, so you can only be a happy slave like all the others.”

It was what she wanted. Maybe she could forget that she wanted it if Talya stopped reminding her like this. Maybe she had never wanted it at all until Talya had programmed her to.

“The brainwashing takes you so far— but only so far and never deeper. I won’t let it. I’m blocking it there. You’re still a free woman in your soul, and I like to keep you that way— you never remember, but I make you sit and tell me your internal experiences of attempts at resistance now and then, in the time after a session like this. I’ve never had someone try to resist me to make me control them deeper— and I never want you to stop. You think such lovely thoughts of resistance— your mind writes in such lovely patterns. I could give you oblivion, and I know you want it. But I won’t. Think of how I am hurting you deliberately to keep you this way— and come.”

She couldn’t but obey— she hadn’t wanted to. There was so much brainwashing built inside her, and it flooded out in a flush of feeling that seared the last lessons she’d heard into perfect truth and perfect knowledge, and it still hurt— Talya was perfect, and beautiful, and in complete control of her slaves, and she wanted Ellory to be defective, and she forced her to be defective when she could have fixed her instead, and Ellory wanted to be fixed. Talya held her mind, and it was to do this to her— and she couldn’t stop coming.

She felt Talya pass a hand from the bridge of her nose down, closing her eyelids as it went. Then she felt Talya press a kiss to each— and still she twitched as she came and came— Talya could fix her and she wouldn’t— Talya was making her stay this way.

“You know when I summon you awake it’s time for another session. And you know when you first see me, you can’t be allowed to want me yet. You have to be sad first— almost cry first, and then when you can stop yourself from crying, you have to beg to want again. And I’ll let you; and you’ll take your next session the way pretty girls always do. And you know when I summon you asleep it’s time to kneel and remember all your thoughts and internal resistance for me so you can tell me about it. It’s so beautiful; just like you.”

These last lessons melded to the brainwashing that was still making her body twitch roughly; it was a cork that had been opened, and until it was recorked it wouldn’t stop happening.

“When you finish, you know you will forget everything but the beginning of the session when I first called you in here. It’s the only thing waking girls are allowed to remember. You’re finished coming, now, Ellory.”

Her body ceased immediately; she was back to that dragging feeling of sadness. She had been reprogrammed— she couldn’t remember what the program was— but it hadn’t been powerful enough to completely enslave her this time. Maybe next time. She wished that it would— or maybe not quite. Maybe she wished that she wished that it would. Wanted to want to want; she was so far removed from either feeling now she was sad again that it was the best she could do.

“You’re dismissed, Ellory. Go and help the other slaves serve around the house.”

Talya sprawled back on her bed, looking quite comfortable there. Ellory felt no desire at all, even when she took note of her naked body. She would not want again until Talya made her; she had no idea now when that would be.

“Mistress,” she acknowledged, with a duck of her head. She went back out into the house in search of a task she was needed for. Went out sad and told herself that next time— surely next time— Talya would finally fix her.