The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So, are you just as boringly vanilla as your Mommy, or have you managed to pick up a few kinks from your cohorts?” Mistress asked me after I’d finally made her cum with my tongue. The salty taste of her husband’s yummy cummy had already faded long before I’d accomplished that; I told myself the flavor was disgusting, but I think she might have somehow made me enjoy it. At any rate, I found it more appealing than the taste of her juices, at least intellectually, or by comparison.

“I’m not sure, Mistress,” I replied. “Probably vanilla, I guess.”

“Hmm, we’ll double-check that in a minute,” Mistress said. “For now, stand up and get naked. I want to see my present unwrapped.”

Whimpering, I did as I was told. I don’t think she even used her power on me, though it’s hard to be sure, and the end result was the same. A minute or so later I was standing in front of her, struggling not to cover myself with my hands as my smallish breasts and other private parts were exposed to her possessive gaze.

“That’s a real jungle bush you’ve got there!” Mistress said, sounding amused. “Do you have a hair fetish?”

“I… I don’t think so, Mistress,” I said. “Mommy told me only bad girls shave, but I do make sure nothing sticks out of my swimsuit.”

“A conservatively cut one-piece, clearly,” Mistress observed, gesturing at the faint but obvious tan lines I’d acquired earlier in the summer. “I kind of like how under-sexed you are, Emma. It’s charmingly naive or something. At any rate, it’ll make it interesting to expose you to all sorts of fun things!” I whimpered again, looking at the floor, as she instructed me to stop wearing anything but shirts. “If I want to dress you up in something interesting, I’ll let you know.”

Mistress then stood up and walked around me, examining my body from all angles and exploring it with her hands; it made me feel like a piece of livestock, and I whimpered again at the realization that I might as well be exactly that, considering her degree of control over my actions. “What have we here?” asked a masculine voice, and my humiliation ratcheted up another notch when I realized that the husband was awake and looking at me. His penis, which had completely deflated while he napped, quickly started hardening again.

“The neighbors brought us a housewarming gift!” Annie announced happily, cupping my breasts from behind and bouncing them as much as she could. “A sweet, inexperienced, but very obedient slut to be molded to our whims!”

“What a delightfully unlikely scenario,” Roger said dryly, glancing at the refreshments on the coffee table.

“The best kind!” Annie agreed. She put her hands on my shoulders and spun me around, saying, “Bend over and spread your ass cheeks with your hands. I want to see what those hairy holes look like from behind.” She perched herself on her husband’s lap as I grudgingly obeyed her commands. My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I suspected she might have been preventing me from completely breaking down. I whimpered again, hearing them discuss my intimate anatomy so crudely.

“I like how thick her cunt flaps are,” Annie said. “With pussy fur as thick as that, slender lips would be completely hidden.” I could feel my vagina getting warmer and wetter as she talked about it, giving me more insight into the range of her powers… or so I desperately hoped, as I don’t think I could cope with the idea that I enjoyed what was happening. “And look! Her clitty is surprisingly large! I bet that’s why she’s not quite as demure as her Mommy expected! She can probably cum like a rocket if she has a partner with half a gram of skill.”

“Well, let’s test that hypothesis,” Roger said. “You want to finger her while she blows me?”

Sighing melodramatically, Annie replied with a drawn out, “Fine!” as she made me spin around again and drop to all fours in front of her husband. “But only since I already had a cum from her tongue. She’s not very good with her mouth yet, though!”

“I’m sure I can give her some pointers,” Roger declared. He then mumbled, “I can at least make sure she likes it,” but possibly too quietly for his wife to hear. Against my will, my head lowered and took his throbbing erection into my mouth. I was unsurprised to discover that it tasted very similar to Mistress Annie’s vagina, considering what they had been doing just before we arrived. The smell and the flavor, which had been rather repugnant before, started growing on me. When precum started leaking out of Roger’s penis, the taste was quite pleasant, although that terrified me. When he erupted into my mouth the experience was exquisite, and I wasn’t sure if my orgasm was triggered by the joy of swallowing his seed or some manipulation on the part of Annie, who had been groping my sex the entire time, almost without my realizing it. I whimpered with shame as I licked around Roger’s crotch, trying to find any stray drops of Master’s yummy cummy.

“You whine like a puppy,” Mistress declared. “I think that will be my first game for you. I’ll need to get some supplies, but for the time being, you can put on your shirt and go home. : no other clothes! I also want you to let all your hair grow out, at least until I get tired of you being my fuzzy little pet.” Grinning meanly, she added, “Tell Mommy how happy I am with you as a gift! Best I ever got!”

With Mommy taking a bath, I found myself acting as if on a program. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of large trash bags, then went to my room and started throwing away almost all of my bras and panties. I set a small number aside, which I guessed was because they were the ones that made me feel naughty and sexy. Mostly they were ones my boyfriends picked out, plus the slightly see-thru set I’d secretly bought for senior prom.

I methodically put on my few remaining underthings, taking pictures of myself from all angles in my mirror before sending them to an unknown number, presumably Annie’s. ”Rubbish!” came the reply, followed by instructions to finish the purge, allowing me to keep only the prom set. The second bag soon contained all of my shorts, pants, and skirts. My longer dresses were spared for the time being, although I expected that was an oversight. Still, it gave me hope that Annie could be careless with the application of her power, which might mean I could find a way to escape.

After Mommy realized I was home and we endured the humiliating faux breast-feeding, I stayed in my room, hiding and trying to come up with plans for resistance. She puttered around the house, probably as embarrassed to see me as I was to be seen, and I think neither of us wanted to risk triggering some other shameful behavior. My window overlooked the driveway, so I saw when Daddy (ugh!) came home from work. I wanted to run to him for help, though I don’t know what he could have done, and it was humiliating to imagine presenting myself to him in my current condition. Matters seemed to get even worse, though, when Roger from next door greeted Daddy as soon as he got out of his car.

I couldn’t hear or see what they were discussing, but the neighbor seemed to be talking intently, with Daddy just nodding along. Their conversation only lasted for about a minute or two before they shook hands and parted. To my alarm and chagrin, I stood up and started heading downstairs.

Mommy and Daddy were standing in the living room kissing when I arrived. She was flushed and breathing heavily, not to mention dressed much more provocatively than normal. I guess she still wouldn’t have looked out of place in public, but seeing any amount of Mommy’s cleavage on display was discomforting to me. Even worse, it made me long to suckle her some more, since that had quelled my shame and fear for a little while.

“Ah, there she is!” Daddy exclaimed, not batting an eye at my exposure. Rather than open his arms for a hug, though, he patted my head and tousled my hair a bit by way of a greeting. “Roger explained to me that they’ve graciously agreed to re-home our little puppy, once they’ve had a few days to get settled in!” he said happily. I was shocked speechless and stared helplessly at Mommy, hoping she could correct the inexplicable lie he seemed to have accepted. Sadly, she was as mute as I was.

I stared through the wires of my cage at the empty room and wished I was almost literally anywhere else. The last few weeks had been one long series of humiliations, not the least of which was my inexplicable response to being degraded. I wanted to believe that it was the result of manipulations by one or both of my captors, but whatever the case, I was constantly aroused, often dripping wet, and desperate for release. I hadn’t been allowed to cum since I became a puppy.

With my gloves on, it was impossible to give myself enough stimulation to climax, but that didn’t stop me from trying again. When that failed, I tried rubbing my sex against the sides of the cage, another old strategy that also didn’t work. I whined and whimpered, wishing I could contort myself enough to lick my own pussy, but even if I had the flexibility the cage was too tight to permit it.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, giving me a new reason to whimper. I didn’t like storms even when I was a human, and as a dog my fear seemed amplified. My anxiety grew as the sounds got closer, and I cowered in my cage when rain started drumming on the windows. I could see flashes of lightning through the curtains, and before long the whole house was rattling with the deafening booms of a fierce summer squall. I yelped frantically, desperate to get out of my cage, but it was too strong and locked securely.

My attempts to escape did have one unexpected consequence. I couldn’t get out, but I did succeed in moving the cage from the corner it was in, bumping rather hard against a kind of curio cabinet my owners had in the room. The impact jarred open its doors. I didn’t notice at the time, being too preoccupied with my terror. The storm’s intensity gradually diminished, and I fell asleep, exhausted from the ordeal.

I awoke to a sharp, unpleasant smell. I soon realized that I had peed myself at some point during the storm, and there was nothing I could do about it. It was a new level of shame for me, since up to that point I had still been allowed to act human when I needed to use the bathroom (although my inability to wipe disgusted me, and being cleaned off daily with a garden hose was extremely uncomfortable). There was still no sign of my owners, and I guessed they had waited out the rain at the Milligan’s house.

Desperate for any distraction from my new predicament, I looked around the room and finally noticed the open cabinet. My attention was immediately drawn to an expensive-looking statuette, possibly made of gold and with several sparkling jewels set in it; the style looked like classical Greco-Roman to me, although my one semester of art history hardly made me an expert. The figure was hermaphroditic, to use the term I learned in class, although in a person they might have been called trans or intersex. At any rate, the body possessed both breasts and male genitals, and it held what appeared to be a skull in one hand and a heart in the other. It was captivating, and I soon began to get a strong impression of power and authority from it. I forced myself to look away, feeling scared.

Through one of the windows I caught a glimpse of my owners returning. They were talking to another neighbor on the sidewalk in front of the house; Master remained outside chatting as Mistress came inside. She sniffed the air reflexively when she entered the living room, then noticed the mess I’d made. “Bad puppy!” she said, scolding me yet looking delighted about my humiliation. Then her eyes traveled upwards and saw the open cabinet. “Very bad puppy!” she cried, but her face was suddenly contorted with fear.

Seeing Mistress express something akin to the terror I’d felt filled me with a sudden jolt of hope. Acting purely on instinct, I lunged against the side of my cage that was pressed against the cabinet, jarring it violently. The statuette teetered and toppled. Although Mistress lunged to catch it and almost succeeded, it proved to be too heavy for her to stop its fall. The soft metal deformed easily when it landed on the outstretched arms, which dislodged the brain and heart it had been holding.

What felt like an electric shock went through me. I yelped with pain, dimly aware that Mistress was yelling as well, then I ed out.

I was riding my husband, bouncing up and down on his penis, when we both screamed painfully. He grabbed his head, pulling at his hair, while my pain was more inside my abdomen. We both lost consciousness, although I was the first to recover. His erection had subsided and fallen out of me in the interim, which filled me with conflicting feelings of disappointment and relief. I still wanted to cum, but it no longer felt mandatory. I carefully got to my feet and began collecting my clothes, unsure about what was going on.

As I approached the front door, however, my arousal spiked, causing me to groan and stumble. I was able to crawl far enough to reach the doorknob, but when I grasped it with one hand my other found its way to my crotch, rubbing my sex forcefully. I ed that Annie had told me to go home and get myself off, and apparently her commands wouldn’t let me leave until I came. Grunting with irritation and need, I released the door and pulled down my pants, masturbating hurriedly right there in the foyer.

With my carnal compulsions satisfied for the moment, I redressed and attempted to make myself look presentable, although a glance at my pale reflection in the window showed a much more disheveled and sexualized appearance than I preferred. Nevertheless, I opened the door and tried to rush toward the neighbor’s house. On the way, I noticed a small crowd gathering on the sidewalk, where someone appeared to be on the ground. I couldn’t clearly see who it was, but my instincts told me that something had happened to Roger, and maybe to Annie as well.

“Puppy, are you okay?” I called out as I entered the house next door. I grimaced, angry that I couldn’t call my daughter by her name. A tired-sounding bark came from the living room where I’d last seen her caged. Moving quickly, I soon beheld poor, naked Emma in her wire prison, but more importantly, Annie was sprawled out face-down on the floor nearby. I knelt beside her and turned her head; even before I saw her eyes, I could tell by the feel of her skin that she was dead.

Wasting no further time on the monster, I unlocked the cage and said, “Come on, Puppy! We’re going home!” Mindful of the crowd out front, who I suspected were trying to help a recently deceased Roger, I led Emma out the back door and boosted her over the privacy fence that separated our yards. Her gloves made it challenging, and I finally had to push on her butt to make it work, getting an uncomfortably close look at her swollen sex as a result, not to mention being whacked by her tail.

Once on the other side I tried to get Emma to stand and walk, but every attempt led to stumbles and falls, so finally I just let her crawl the rest of the way until we were safe in my kitchen. I knelt down and hugged her, crying with relief as she whined and whimpered, licking the side of my face.

Emergency vehicles arrived, followed by extra law enforcement once they discovered Annie’s body and began to suspect the possibility of foul play. Fortunately, they only questioned me and my husband briefly, and our inability to say anything substantial about the neighbors to a stranger was apparently completely believable to the police. Even more luckily, they didn’t ask for a statement from our daughter, who was still only barking.

My husband seemed to be partially recovering from whatever Roger did to him. He still saw Emma as a dog, but ed having a daughter with the same name. “Maybe Emma can take the neighbor’s dog back to college with her,” he said doubtfully. “Can she have pets there? And wasn’t it her dog to begin with?”

I was eventually able to get Emma cleaned up and divested her of the props she’d been forced to endure, but she resisted my efforts to dress her. Truth be told, it felt quite unnatural to me to be putting clothes on her, and we both gave up once she had on a shirt.

Somehow, the struggles with my daughter had left me aroused, which I told myself was another residual effect from the evil neighbors. Neither I nor my husband had many inhibitions left regarding our sex life, so he mounted me only minutes after getting into bed and finding me receptive. I came loudly, and our daughter howled in chorus with me from her room.

Regaining my humanity was a slow and unsteady process, made even more difficult by a kind of cascading trauma from being back at home. My parents were incredibly lusty and sexually open, to the point that I don’t believe either of them realized just how libidinous they were acting. Mommy no longer wore any kind of undergarments, and about half the time she wore only a long shirt, the way my former Mistress Annie used to do. Every day at noon she would take me in her lap for suckling; although she looked pained when we began, it soothed us both and left us happy and horny by the end. Daddy would only occasionally I wasn’t a dog, and regardless of whether he addressed me by Emma or Puppy, his hands felt free to stroke me intimately.

Worse still is that much of the ‘programming’ the neighbors had given me that pertained to my behavior toward Master and Mistress seemed to have transferred to Mommy and Daddy when they brought me back to their house. If Daddy had an erection, I salivated and begged until he agreed to let me suck it. If he refused and fucked Mommy instead, I whined and pleaded to lick his cum out of her pussy, just the way Mistress Annie so often demanded. For nearly a month I had no ability to speak words or even stand upright for more than a few seconds. Perhaps obviously, I spent most of that time naked, or wearing a shirt if Mommy was having one of the days where she felt the need for pants.

Sometimes Daddy would put a collar and leash on me and lead me into the back yard, refusing to return to the house until I peed in the grass. Since my ability to use a toilet was the one aspect of being human the neighbors hadn’t stolen or warped, doing my business outside was the most degrading aspect of my new situation. Or it was, until the day Daddy decided to fuck me while he was ‘walking’ me. Roger had done so on a few occasions, so the dominant doggy part of my personality was quite receptive, and perhaps Daddy just couldn’t tell wails of anguish from howls of pleasure. To be fair, since I was experiencing both feelings during the act, his lack of understanding is possibly forgivable. Mommy was outraged and insisted that he leave the house, but by the following morning she was demanding that he come back and give it to her hard.

By the end of the summer I could walk and talk again, although I had lapses. I could dress myself in a long shirt most days, and sometimes I could even bring myself to wear panties or shorts for a few hours. It got easier with repetition, although I usually had to ‘dog out’ for a few hours afterward, naked and crawling and barking. Annie had forced me to grow out all of my hair while I was Puppy, but I was finally able to shave again, although I left my pubic thatch completely unruly; it might have even been thicker and larger than before.

Mommy and Daddy were recovering their old habits somewhat as well, and had mostly resumed having sex where I couldn’t see them. I was also less frequently a participant, whether directly or in a clean-up role. The fact that being excluded left me feeling abandoned and sexually frustrated was at turns appalling and arousing, which contributed to an overall feeling of shame and depression. There were times when I thought it would be wise for us all to seek professional psychiatric help, but it was hard for me to even mention the idea to my parents, and they would either refuse to listen or immediately forget the discussions when I managed to raise the topic.

Although I dreaded what might happen at school if I returned, it still seemed like a somewhat better choice than staying at home and either feeling left out and neglected or receiving degrading affection and inclusion. I had a very faint hope that distance from the scene of my humiliations would help with my recovery, and perhaps Mommy and Daddy would get better faster if they didn’t have me around to tempt them into perversions.

“How was your summer, Emma?!” my roommate Mara screeched, making me cringe slightly. She had always been exuberant, and usually that didn’t phase me, but her noise and impulsive hug triggered some anxiety. I tried not to concentrate on the feeling of her breasts pressing against my own braless ones, and had to make a conscious effort to keep my hips and ass from wagging, since I was honestly delighted to see her again. “I barely heard from you after the first week or two! I was afraid I offended you or something!”

“No, I was just really busy most of the time,” I replied honestly. “I literally couldn’t talk to anyone for like a month.”

“Well, I’ve got so much to tell you!” Mara chirped, going on about her unpacking as she regaled me with stories about her new boyfriend and her trip to Mexico and other details. I was glad her summer had been so eventful, since it made my own reticence to share less obvious. I completely lost the thread of the conversation, however, when I opened one of my bags and discovered the mysterious statuette nestled amongst the unused bras and panties I’d bought as a kind of camouflage.

“Wow! That looks really expensive!” Mara exclaimed, peering over my shoulder. “Where did you get it? Are those real gems?! Is that real gold?!”

“No!” I answered hastily, not sure what else to tell her or how; I had assumed the statuette had either been confiscated by the police or sent to Annie and Roger’s next of kin after their demise. “It’s just made to look that way,” I said, struggling to come up with a believable lie in a hurry. “It’s like an old-time movie prop. I kinda inherited it, but the story is long and boring. Tell me more about Mexico!”

“Well, it looks really neat!” Mara said, grabbing the idol and crossing the room to put it on the shelves above our mini-fridge. “It’s really heavy, too! Like it’s made of lead or something! It really makes the dorm seem classy, though!” she added, before honoring my request and expounding on her time in Cancun.

I whined as I stretched out nude on the floor, feeling relieved and embarrassed to be naked and on all fours once again. Mara had been astounded and disbelieving when I spun her the lie I’d come up with to explain my compromising proclivities, since it was almost inevitable that she’d discover them in short order with us living in such close proximity.

“I took up nude yoga over the summer,” I’d said, almost amused at her bugged-out eyes and dropped jaw. “I’ll try to only do it when you’re in class or not around. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Well, hey, it’s your room, too!” Mara had replied, trying to look ive while also clearly thinking I might be pranking her. She’d asked to see a demonstration, probably trying to force me to ‘put up or shut up’, but her boyfriend picked that exact moment to knock on the door. After a brief introduction, the two of them went off on their own and left me to finish unpacking in peace.

From my position on the floor I stared up at the unwanted idol, with my worry gradually transforming into a deeper kind of fear. The statuette had apparently been repaired of the damage it had taken when it fell, and it was once again holding a tiny skull and tiny heart in its upraised hands. It almost seemed to be glowing in the dim light of the single lamp I had on, although that might have just been due to how brightly polished it was.

“Whoa! I guess you weren’t kidding after all,” said Mara, making me yelp with surprise. She had opened the door and entered while I was engrossed in contemplating the idol. With the door shut, she was staring blearily at my naked body, still somewhat disbelieving. I could smell alcohol, and from her body language I could guess that she was at least close to drunk.

“How was your date?” I asked, trying to sound like I was perfectly comfortable being nude on the ground in front of her. Truth be told, it wasn’t much of an act: my canine instincts seemed stronger than they had been in weeks.

“Total success,” Mara said with a sloppy smile, making her way toward her bed with a slight stagger. “He’s got a really nice dick. I hope that’s not TMI!” She giggled and kind of collapsed backward onto her mattress, staring at the ceiling. “If I can just get him trained up on how to use his tongue, he’ll be a keeper!”

I whined quietly, slightly embarrassed by the conversation, but mostly by the smell of sex that I could detect wafting from her. Somehow or another, it was obvious to me that Mara had a pussy full of yummy cummy, and my instincts compelled me to act. It felt absolutely imperative that I slurp it all out of her. I squinted and she started squirming, possibly in response. My head was filled a heat not dissimilar to that in my belly and loins.

“I guess you won’t mind too much if I get more comfy,” Mara said, sounding kind of distracted as she undid the button on her jeans and slid them down, along with her panties. She had almost no pubic hair, just a very small triangle on her mound, and her lips were still distended and swollen from her recent fucking. She watched me watching her, and said nothing as I crawled forward and forced her legs apart. Her breathing was fast and shallow as I reached out with my tongue and swabbed up a glob of her boyfriend’s hunky spunk. “Oh! This is unexpected,” said Mara quietly, but she made no attempt to stop me. I dove in, growling and groaning animalistically as I cleaned out her box; her grunting and moaning sounded almost subhuman as well.

One advantage of having the use of my hands back was that I could pleasure myself while going down on someone. Even though part of me was aghast to be performing such an act on my roommate, my puppy self was thrilled to be obeying our compulsion once again, even though Daddy’s splooge was the best of them all and we missed it.

“Fuck! I’m cumming on your tongue, you nasty bitch!” Mara screamed. If I had a real tail it would have drooped between my legs at that point, since I was sure our neighbors heard her, but being called a bitch felt so incredibly right that it pushed me over the edge of my own climax.

My roommate promptly ed out. I stood up long enough to turn off the lamp and lift her fully into her bed, then curled myself up near her feet. Dozing off to sleep, I was dimly aware that the idol was definitely glowing softly as it watched us.