The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sabine had not anticipated so much drama in an academic exchange. The first four months had flown by, as she and her three colleagues—by now, fast friends—worked with the local colleges in the eastern oblasts on ethnocentric, philological and architectural research. However, recently there had been concerns ed around by their local friends and acquaintances of a discontented population, and a possible government crackdown. The four friends had conferred and agreed that, although their academic visas had most of a year left to run, it might be safest to leave the country temporarily. They had loaded their critical papers and the belongings into Sabine’s trusty—if rusty—van, and headed west.

They had tried to stay close to large towns, but that had proved their undoing. Pulled over by an impromptu Security Ministry checkpoint, a harridan in a uniform had searched through their vehicle and found some pamphlets that Judy had been given by someone in the street. Whatever had been on them was clearly enough for the four of them to be arrested, shackled, hooded, and thrown into this cell, wherever it was.

Incommunicado, they had begged to someone from the embassy, but their captors seemed totally unconcerned about such niceties. They had been stripped, yelled at, kept awake for hours on end, and even slapped when they didn’t answer fast enough. Little Hanna had been repeatedly dunked in a barrel of icy water, despite pleading that she didn’t know anything. None of them did. Francine had had the bad judgement to talk back once, but a series of shock baton applications had swiftly ended her rebellion.

Finally, with the arrival of the older, well-dressed woman in their cell, they had something approaching hope. They discussed the visit in low voices, keeping an eye on the cell door.

“It has got to be better than this,” Judy said. “She at least seems reasonable. Maybe we can get her to notify one of our embassies about where we are?“

“I can’t go on like this,” Hanna whimpered. “Please, we’ve got to try something.” Sabine hugged her.

“We’re all agreed? If that lady gets us an out, we take it.” They all nodded.

“And it’s all of us, or none,” Francine declared. “We’re not leaving anyone here alone.”

Judy looked down at the plate of food on the floor. A mouse was nibbling from it, but abruptly stopped and scampered away.

“Who knows,” she said wryly, “we might even get food that’s fit for animals.”

The four girls sat in silence in the van. As before, they were shackled and hooded, but this time the silence was tinged with hope rather than fear.

The van eventually rattled to a stop, and they were pulled out of the back. Rough hands pushed them down onto a bench, and their shackles secured to it.

“Here you are, Director.” Besla produced four pieces of paper, each of which the Director signed. “Their belongings—what’s left of them!—are in that box.” One of Besla’s minions was unloading a cardboard box from the side of the van. “Have fun with them!” She gave a chuckle. “Feel free to return any of them if they cause trouble.”

“Thank you for the kind offer, Besla. Have a wonderful day.” The Director waited for the van to leave the garage, then turned to Darsi, who was waiting patiently.

“Let’s get these hoods off. Careful, they apparently have lice.”

“Understood.” Darsi donned protective clothing and a hair cover—this was far from her first rodeo with Ministry prisoners—and went around unlacing and removing the hoods from the girls. They blinked in the yellow light of the garage, looking around in a dazed fashion.

“Welcome to my Institute. You can call me ‘Director’.” The Director ed out a clipboard and pen to each girl, careful to keep her distance. “This is your request for ission. Please fill it in, and sign it. Today’s date is the 20th of September.”

Sabine studied the form. The top half was in the native language, but the bottom half was an English translation. She very quickly checked the text—she was applying for ission, and such treatment as the Institute deemed appropriate, and agreed to be held by the Institute until the treatment was considered complete. Nothing she couldn’t live with, especially compared with the alternative. She filled in her full name, signed and dated it. She was silently grateful for the Director’s cue on the date—she would have been off by many days.

Darsi collected the clipboards and stacked them on a table.

“Very good. Well, now that you are formally patients here, we need to clean you up. My staff will take you up, one at a time. You—Sabine? You can go first. You others, please wait here.“

Darsi unshackled Sabine and urged the girl through a door. The concrete floor was cold and rough on her bare feet, and her legs were wobbling from hunger, but Sabine didn’t care. She was at least temporarily free, and no-one was yelling at her, or even threatening.

“Here.” Darsi’s English was rough but serviceable. Sabina found herself in an industrial-looking bathroom.

Darsi took a pair of shears and cut off Sabine’s panties and shirt without ceremony. She dropped them in a bin, then firmly guided Sabine into a framework-structure chair before fastening her wrists and ankles onto it.

Sabine, naked, wondered what came next, and was quickly answered by the buzz of clippers. Darsi’s gloved hand held her head as she started to run the clippers over Sabine.

“My hair,” Sabine gulped, watching the—very dirty—locks fall to the floor.

“Insects,” said Darsi flatly, and Sabine silently conceded the need. There has been screams in the cell when the lice had first been noticed, but they had lived in an uneasy truce since then. She didn’t even protest when Darsi shaved her mound, and even her armpits.

The antiseptic shower was played on her for a while, and although she really didn’t like the smell, the thought of finally being clean again was too attractive to make an objection. Darsi was thorough about getting the jets of water into all Sabine’s crevices, and after she was blown dry with the hot air vent she briefly—silently—revelled in no longer feeling dirty, sticky, and disgusting.

Darsi removed and dumped her own protective clothing and mask, then unfastened Sabine from the chair and ed her a clean white shift. It was cheap cotton and a little scratchy, but she slipped it on without protest. She ran her hand over her scalp—Darsi had left little more than fuzz there.

I must really look like a mental patient now, she thought to herself. Oh well, at least I will blend in. Darsi dropped a pair of slippers on the floor in front of her, and she slipped them on.

“Come.” Darsi took her wrist and led her out.

Sabine wondered what was next. Where would they stay? Presumably, there would be a bed. When would they eat? What would they eat? Her stomach growled at the thought.

A deeper set of thoughts were going through her head. The agreements they had signed—not that they had had much practical choice!—had been very general about what kind of ‘treatment’ might be might be carried out. What actually did they do with their patients in a psychiatric institute? Was it lots of sitting on a couch and talking about your mother? She wished, in hindsight, she had thought more about this.

They walked along a corridor for a while, until Darsi opened an anonymous door and indicated that Sabine should enter. Sabine cautiously looked inside.

The Director was standing there in her white coat, smiling. “Come in, Sabine. Have a seat.” She gestured towards something that looked disconcertingly like an operating table. Putting her arm around Sabine, she guided the girl to a sitting position.

Sabine looked around the room. It was very medical, with green tiles on the wall, and surgical lights hanging from the ceiling. Several women in scrubs and masks were standing around. At least, it appeared reasonably modern and clean.

“What... what is this?” she asked timidly.

“We need to get a baseline from our patients when we it them,” the Director explained, unhelpfully. “Undress, please.”

Shyly, Sabine eased her shift off. One of the women took it and folded it, while the others pushed Sabine—gently, but firmly—into a lying-down position. To the girl’s alarm, they started to secure her arms, legs and body onto the table.

“Umm... Is this necessary?". One of the women swabbed her arm, and put in a cannula. “Ouch!”

“Very necessary,” the Director confirmed. “You’ve been held in conditions that were, frankly, quite unsanitary. Goodness only knows what you have been exposed to! I’m afraid that the Security Ministry does not have the best reputation.”

“Oh... sorry,” Sabine mumbled. She wondered briefly whether to agree with the assessment of the Ministry, but decided that discretion was more wise, right now. A pressure cuff went around her arm, and several electrodes were stuck onto her chest. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You’re probably dehydrated too,” the Director pointed out. “That’s what the i/v is for.” She pointed up at the large plastic bag hanging from the drip stand that was now starting to flow into Sabine.

Apparently satisfied, the women started to cover Sabine’s body with drapes.

“Are you comfortable, Sabine?” the Director asked solicitously. “Would you like a small pillow?”

“No, thank you...” Sabine was still looking around, trying to understand what was happening.

One of the women wrapped an oxygen catheter around Sabine’s nose, taping it in place. She felt something cool and dry flowing into her.

“Supplemental oxygen,” the Director explained. She watched the girl’s eyes start to glaze. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, you can just lie back and relax. Won’t that be nice?”

“Seventy, ninety eight, twenty one” reported the nurse watching the monitors.

“Still a little wound up, hmm?” The Director stroked Sabine’s bare shoulder. “You know, I’m so looking forward to finding out about you. I imagine that you’re a fascinating young lady.“

“Fascinating?” Sabine’s head was starting to spin. Was she going to out? “Never been called that...” She sighed. “Always a nerd. Nerdy, nerdy... Nerd chick! Nerd chic!”

The Director chuckled. “That hit you quickly, didn’t it? I suppose that was not surprising, after your time in the Ministry. Never you mind, my darling. Just lie back, and listen to my voice. My sweet, calm, peaceful voice...”

The questioning of Sabine proceeded smoothly, with Hanna and then Francine following. The Director expertly probed their pasts, studies, friendships, and their experiences at the hands of the Ministry. She was amused to discover that Hanna didn’t like men at all, and had what she thought was a secret crush on Judy.

“Oh my darling,” she had whispered to the intoxicated girl. “Wait until you start your training...”

Judy, the brunette, was the last to arrive. As Darsi guided her into the room, the Director noted her reaction to the environment—an immediate freeze, and rapid eye movements.

“It’s all right, Judy,” she soothed the girl. “You’re perfectly safe here.”

Judy let herself be guided onto the table. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I’m not very good with doctors, or needles.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” the Director assured her. “Would you like me to give you something to... relax you?”

“No, no, I’ll be okay...” The last thing she needed now was medication, but it was looking to be difficult to avoid. Judy slowly removed her gown at the nurse’s urging, and lay back on the table but her rigid muscles told a story.

You know what this is, don’t you? thought the Director with a smile. You’re not just a young academic. She opened the valve on the amytal drip a little wider, watching as her nurse put the line in Judy’s rigid arm.

“Tell me about your studies, Judy,” the Director said, taking a seat next to the girl. “What do you research?”

She guided Judy through her tale of the past four months, watching as the amytal started to take effect. With Judy forced to keep talking, it denied her any chance to make psychological preparation to resist the drug.

“Sixty, ninety nine, fifteen,” remarked the monitoring nurse.

“Deep in the arms of the drug, hmm?” The Director put on a mask and leaned over Judy, staring into the girl’s wide eyes. “Someone’s got a secret!” she sang softly. “Someone’s got a secret!”

Judy, by now helplessly marooned by the drug, giggled.

“I’ve got a secret too, Judy,” she whispered. “I can make you feel... wonderful.“

She nodded at Nina, who placed her stimulator around Judy’s rosebud, and powered it up.

Judy squealed, pulling against her straps.

“You like that Judy? Would you like more?” Another jolt, and another squeal.

The other nurse carefully opened Judy’s slit with her fingers and softly stroked just inside. Judy whimpered with pleasure.

“We could go like this forever,” the Director whispered, moving even closer to Judy’s face. “Just tell me your secret...“

Judy was fast asleep, the monitors showing her body at complete rest. The i/v was now just running saline into her—all the girls had turned out to be seriously dehydrated, and Hanna’s blood chemistry was somewhat concerning, to the point where the Director had felt obligated to call the Institute’s doctor, and follow her prescription for antibiotics and antifungals.

Darsi had gone off to fetch a trolley for transport, and Nina was holding Judy’s hand as she watched the monitors.

The Director went through her notes, chuckling to herself.

“A she-wolf in ewe’s clothing! Oh, my dear Judy. If Besla had found out about you... I don’t like to think.”

She eased her finger under the drapes and slid it along Judy’s sex. The girl didn’t even twitch. She pulled her finger out and touched it with her tongue.

“Mmm. But, what to do with you now? We need to have a talk, my dear. A long, serious talk.“

Darsi came through the door. “Where do you want me to take her? Training Room Four? The other three are in their rooms and still asleep, I just checked.”

“Thank you, Darsi, but no... Can you please put her in an isolation room? I need to talk to her when she wakes up, and I need her to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

Judy woke to find herself in bed. On a bed.

The mattress underneath her was a vast improvement on the single blanket they’d each had in the basement of the Ministry, but she quickly realized that she was very securely fastened both to the mattress itself, and the bedframe. Thick straps circled her limbs, holding her absolutely immobile.

At least, it was warm and quiet. No-one was yelling at her. She could think.

What had happened? They’d been sent to the Institute. Separated. Head shaved, washed. Then...

She groaned. Drug-based questioning! Sexual stimulation as reward! She had recognized the basic set-up—surprisingly sophisticated—upon entry to the room, but the Director had kept her too busy talking defensively for her to implement any of the defensive tactics ‘they’ had taught her. And the Director—a psychiatrist—driving the interrogation! She had to assume now that they knew absolutely everything she did—and, if not, they could retrieve it at their leisure.

At least, the other girls should have been okay. Their actual innocence should have been clear—Judy had been scrupulous about keeping them away from anyone in the rebel underground. If only she could get them out...

“You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

How long had the Director been standing there? She smiled at Judy, and took a seat next to her bed.

“I suppose you know,” Judy grunted.

“Of course I do, my dear. The What, the Why, the How, the Who... What I don’t know, yet, is—what next?”

This wasn’t how Judy had expected the conversation to go. She thought quickly.

“Can you, at least, let the others go? They had nothing to do with this. You must have determined that.”

“I did,” the Director itted. “They had no idea of your activities. Well done!” She gave a small smile. “Still, they are strongly associated with you. It’s my clear duty to report your espionage and subversion activities to the Ministry. You know what comes next, don’t you?”

“A brick wall, blindfold, last cigarette?” Judy sighed. “And your cigarettes are shitty. No offense!”

“None taken, I’m sure. But, no matter my personal feelings, do you believe that the Ministry is going to accept without question your role as the sole instigator?”

“But, they really weren’t involved!” Judy whimpered. “You know this!”

“My darling, faced with this information, I give them no more than twenty four hours in the basement of the Ministry before they willingly sign full confessions. Probably, closer to six hours. The Ministry likes things neat and tidy—istratively, at least. I’ve heard stories, though...”

“Come on, you can’t let this happen!”

“My dear, it would be out of my hands!” The Director paused. “Give me another option. Please!”

Judy looked at her interrogator, and saw apparent sincerity. Even if it were fake, her options appeared to be extremely narrow.

“You can take anything you like out of my mind, whenever you want to?”

“Quite correct.” The Director did not need to preen.

“Then, the only thing I have left to bargain with...”

“...is your mind itself,” confirmed the Director. “Let us suppose—just, suppose—that i could remove your memories from your mind. Everything about the rebellion. Even your original training! Now, if I did that, what reason would I have to keep you here? I know everything you do, you will know nothing that could harm my government or nation... I think that I could release you with a clear conscience.”

“My friends?” Judy tried to pull at her restraints, but they just bit into her. “Ow!”

“Don’t do that,” said the Director reprovingly. “It will bruise. Your friends, I already have a plan for—I it, not anything like as thorough as what you will need. Still, you all signed the ission forms, so...” She shrugged.

Judy ground her teeth. “Could I, at least, think about it?”

“Of course you can!” the Director exclaimed. “You can have all the time you need. I will check back with you in six hours, and every six hours after that.” She checked the small watch that hung from her coat. “15:35 will be the next check point.”

She opened the door. “She is ready, my darlings.”

Confused, Judy saw three masked women walk into the room, one pushing a small trolley of equipment, all looking at her like a piece of meat. “What... What is this?”

“Five hours and... fifty eight minutes participating in one of my little experiments,” the Director explained, moving back to give the women access to Judy. “You’re going to have quite the time.” She adjusted a small camera on a mount, pointing directly at Judy. “Say hello to posterity!”

One of the women produced a small vibrator, cupped Judy’s boob in her hand, and started to run it up and down. Judy groaned, her vision starting to sparkle.

“They are remarkably skilled, you’ll find,” the Director commented, amused. “In six hours... Let’s just say that I’m confident you’ll do absolutely anything I want you to. You may think that you will out, but do not worry—they are perfectly capable of keeping you with them.”

“Hello, Judy,” one of the women said, as the Director took her leave. “I’m Nina. You won’t me, of course, but we had a lot of fun together during your questioning.”

She nodded at another woman, who pushed a gag into Judy’s mouth and inflated it.

“I’m sorry about this,” Nina apologized, “but our patients can get rather loud.”

They folded Judy’s gown up to her neck, exposing her whole body. One woman daubed some lotion on her gloves and started to stroke around Judy’s breasts. The girl groaned behind her gag.

“I thought you’d enjoy that,” Nina commented, apparently amused. “Now, let’s get down to business.” She gently prised Judy’s slit open, and started to explore with her gloved finger...

Hanna was feeling very drunk. Or sleepy. Maybe both? Her tolerance of alcohol was very limited, and whatever she had been fed was at least as potent as the two strong margaritas that she had oh-so-unwisely consumed the evening after graduating with her Master’s.

There were three other girls. Or four? Counting was very difficult. There must have been at least three—one mouth on each of her boobs, and another attending to her ‘below’. She was lying like a wet rag on the bed, moaning quietly as she was enjoyably suckled and licked.

She wasn’t sure why she was here. There was... there had been some nurses? It was all a blur. But these girls smelled nice, and everything was warm and fuzzy, so she was in no hurry to do anything else.

Even when one girl squatted next to her, Hanna smelled the scent of the girl’s pussy, and eagerly reached out with her tongue to taste it. Maybe Judy’s would taste like this?

A couple of times, she had been taken out of the room to be fed. The attendant was very careful how much she gave Hanna to eat and drink; although the food was quite bland, Hanna’s digestive system had been suffering from the mistreatment at the Ministry, so she didn’t feel the need to press for more. And, every time after she returned to the girls, she was feeling horny, and they ‘helped her out’.

She curled her tongue inside her new friend’s warm, salty slit, making her squeal happily, and sighed inside. This was nice.

The Director re-entered to find Judy moaning in her restraints. The women had removed her gag and their devices, and were standing imive next to the bed.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Judy?” the Director asked sweetly. “A pleasant six hours?” It hadn’t even been two, but Judy was way past being able to measure the age of time.

“No more, please,” Judy said weakly. “I can’t... It’s too much.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would get used to it,” the Director smiled. “And I don’t think Nina has showed you half her repertoire yet. But, about my question earlier...”

“Yes. Take... take my memories. It’s okay.”

“Well, that’s settled then.” The Director clapped her hands. “Let’s get this young lady unfastened from her restraints, and down to the treatment room. The sooner we start, the sooner we can release her.”

Half an hour later, Judy was naked in the bathroom with Nina, an enema hose draining into her.

“Are you comfortable, Judy?” Nina enquired. “Let me know if you’re cold or cramping.”

“I’m... I’m fine.” After what Nina had done with her, Judy was terrified, and Nina’s solicitous behavior was just causing her more confusion.

“Let me adjust this...” There was no need to move the nozzle, but Nina did anyway, gently twisting and turning it to stimulate Judy. She heard the girl groan from the strange sensation, and smiled to herself.

With Judy full up, and dispatched to the commode, Nina came back to the Wipe treatment room to speak with the Director. The older woman was looking down at Fatima, the only one currently being treated.

“Another eight hours and she should be done,” the Director remarked. “I need to decide who to program her for.” She scrutinized Nina. “Would you like her to be yours, Nina?”

Nina blushed. “Thank you, Director! I’d love to have her.”

“Wonderful! That’s decided then.” She eyed the door to the bathroom. “It’s a shame that we have to let Judy go with the others. A very interesting young lady—I would have enjoyed a lot more time with her. Ah, well.”

Nina returned to the bathroom to find Judy apparently asleep on the commode. She chuckled, and dabbed a cold wet flannel on the girl’s face.

“Still with me? Good...” She cleaned Judy using cold water as well, causing the girl to start, but at least she was now sufficiently awake to stand.

Judy was guided back to her bed, then Nina and the supervising nurse carefully connected her to all the equipment. As the bag contracted around her, and the circulating cold water started to cool down the girl, the Director leaned over her.

“Such a helpful girl... You know, Judy, you never asked me how I control which memories to take. Would you like to know a little secret?”

She leaned in closer, and whispered ”I take them all.” A kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Judy.“