The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Madam Director.”

“Medina! So nice to see you again. And Irina, too.” The Director gestured for the pair to come through the secure door from Reception. “How is the news business?”

“ ‘Like the hurried lover, it comes and goes’,” itted Medina, following the Director down the corridor. Irina was wide-eyed and trembling in the presence of the Director, so Medina had a firm hold of her wrist and was more or less towing her along.

“Your message was intriguing. I asked around my sources at the Ministry, and they confirmed that the foreign girls had been taken away more than a week ago. They were vague about where they went.” The Director opened her office door and ushered her guests inside. “Might you know something more?”

“I might, indeed. Do have a seat, please.” The Director took her seat behind the desk. Medina removed the thin leash from her purse, clipped it to Irina’s collar, and tied it to a chair arm before taking her own seat. “Sit, Irina.” The girl squatted on the floor, drawing an amused smile from the Director.

“Well, Medina, let me take you back a few days when we started to ‘train’ our new guests...”

Francine had twice suffered the indignity and frustration of the chastity outfit during her ‘training’. Her initial doses of thorazine were burned up more quickly than expected by her over-active metabolism, and she had started to question what, exactly, she was doing with four other extremely horny and barely dressed girls. The aphrodisiac worked fine on her, but Francine normally preferred to handle such matters herself. Unfortunately, the chastity outfit removed even that option, leaving her weeping in horny frustration while her friends nuzzled and cooed in a vain attempt to help.

The much heavier doses that followed left her tranquil and cooperative like her playmates, and so after a couple of days, she was surprised to find herself being led away from the bedroom, rather than fed as was normal.

“Where we goin’?” she mumbled, nearly tripping over her own feet. Her academic curiosity managed, somehow, to assert itself even through the fog.

“See Director.” Darsi was characteristically terse.

There was a period of silence while Francine’s stunned brain, normally a formidable intellectual weapon, tried to process this. Darsi used the time to continue propelling the girl down the corridors, in a vaguely straight line.

“Director? That lady...” She ed the face, the glasses, the white coat—she had been the one to bring them here. She was nice, wasn’t she? She was looking after them... Why was it so hard to ?

“Hello, Francine.” She stopped abruptly, looking up. Darsi had brought her into a small room where there were a few comfortable chairs, a set of bookshelves, and a wheelchair. That lady—the Director?—was sitting in one of the chairs.

“Please, sit.” She indicated the wheelchair. Darsi guided Francine onto it.

“How are you feeling, Francine?” She sounded genuinely interested. “Are you eating enough? Are we taking good care of you? Are you resting well?” She watched the girl’s eyes start to confusion as the number of questions overwhelmed her.

Francine tried to think. “Food—no, not hungry. Food is boring, but enough. I miss chocolate.” There was something else she wanted to ask—what was it?

The Director laughed, and clapped her hands. “I’m sorry, Francine. We’ll see if we can get you some chocolate. What about your new friends—are they nice to you?”

“Ver’ nice,” Francine itted. “Lot of fun.”

“You learned quickly, I’m very pleased with you.” The Director consulted some notes. “Now, I have something for you to do.”

“Okay...” Francine didn’t know what was going on, but the Director seemed nice enough. She was happy, wasn’t she? Everything was so simple now...

“We’re just going to put this on you,” the Director explained, as Darsi pressed something rubbery onto Francine’s face, and tightened some straps around the back of her head. “Breathe deeply for me, please.”

Francine obliged unthinkingly, and took a deep breath of some strong chemical. “Wuh?” Her head immediately started to spin. Even in her tranquilized state, she knew something was wrong, and instinctively tried to lift her arms to the mask, but Darsi firmly held them down.

“Just a few more breaths...” The Director watched as the chloroform quickly overwhelmed the helpless Francine, and she slumped in her seat. Darsi fastened the security strap around her.

“Let me check her respiration...” The Director held the girl’s limp wrist for a pulse, and watched her chest slowly rise and fall for a few cycles. “Thank you, Darsi. Let’s take this young lady for her Conditioning.”

A docile Fatima was guided onto the Chair by Nina, her confused eyes trying to make sense of her environment.

“I don’t... I didn’t understand,” she mumbled, as Nina expertly connected her vein to the i/v stand.

“I know, darling.” Nina gave the girl a gentle, sensuous kiss. The restraints cycled into place. “All you have to do, is watch and listen. That’s not so hard, is it?”

“I guess...” Fatima ively allowed Nina to connect her to the Chair. “But... But...”

“But me, no buts,” Nina laughed. “Just relax.” She fitted the screen in front of Fatima’s eyes, and the covers over her ears to lock her senses entirely into the Chair.

The program the Director had specified jumped straight to positive stimulation. The Chair tilted backwards, and the metal probes slid their way inside Fatima, making the girl gasp as she was penetrated.

“Look at the lights, Fatima.” The screen started to strobe through many colors, as the pleasurable pulses of electricity teased her most sensitive parts.

A picture of Nina, smiling warmly, in the center of her vision. “Nina... Mommy Nina... Listen.... Listen... Listen to Mommy Nina..” The probe in her sex started to emit longer, stronger pulses, making her moan in happiness.

“You’re going to be quite Mommie’s little slut, aren’t you?” Nina remarked to the oblivious girl. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

The Director watched as Darsi and another nurse lifted the unconscious—and now, naked—Francine into the Chair, and started to secure her. In addition to the usual fittings, they had set up a padded framework that her head fitted into snugly, with some additional sensors on it. Darsi left the sedative mask on Francine while they applied the sensors to her body, and gave her a first round of injections of the prescribed psychedelics.

It had taken the Director more than a year to perfect the approach, but after five successful Conditionings in a row she was confident in its reliability. One of the most important aspects for success, however, was that the patient should not know what was happening to them, so keeping Francine sedated until they were ready to start was critical.

Finally, the viewing screen was locked into place in front of Francine’s face, and Darsi removed the anesthesia mask before fitting Francine’s earphones. The Director consulted the various monitors in front of her—one camera view was a close up of Francine’s right eye (currently closed), there were the usual cardiac, respiratory and neurological activity sensors, and the set of buttons controlling the positions and functions of the chair. The main screen displayed what was showing on the screen in front of Francine—currently, a slowly cycling black and white pattern reminiscent of the Mandelbrot set.

“I think we’re ready,” the Director finally reported, satisfied. “Lights down, please.” The room darkened.

The Director started to play background white noise through the headphones, starting quiet and slowly increasing in volume. Controlling the functions of the Chair throughout Conditioning was much more interactive than its regular stimulation/hypnosis program, and required substantial psychological skill and intuition from the operator in order to get the right effects.

She watched carefully as Francine’s eyelid on the screen started to flutter, and the girl coughed a couple of times as the last fumes of chloroform left her.

“Hmmm?” Her pupil was now wide open—the Director watched with satisfaction as Francine tried to focus on the screen, and gave up. “What... ”

This was the trickiest part, depending on the subject’s particular sociological condition, and—to some extent—their cultural knowledge.

The Director started to play the sound of Francine’s heartbeat into her headphones, watching to see if there was a effect. Sure enough, to her satisfaction, Francine’s heart rate took a jump upwards. Excellent; the psychedelics were clearly taking effect.

Now the screen darkened, and turned a blood-red with a pulsing pattern, slightly out of time with Francine’s heartbeat. It didn’t take long for her drugged and isolated brain to start hallucinating—her bedroom at home lit with a dim red light, the cuddly toys on her bed all facing her with unblinking dark black eyes...

The Director keyed the microphone which was feeding through an audio synthesizer to manipulate the sound of her voice. “Francine...” She deliberately gave it an edge of slow menace. A pause, and an adjustment to shift its stereo location. “Fran-ciiine...” Francine’s heart rate jumped again, and her eye flickered around trying to locate the voice.

A fuzzy black shadow slowly grew from the center of the screen until it half-filled Francine’s vision. Unmistakeably human in shape and movement, its slow approach fixated Francine’s gaze. In fact, it was just extracted from a video of Darsi in a long dress walking slowly up a corridor to a camera, but heavily post-processed, and in its final form was extremely intimidating.

“I HAVE YOU NOW.”

With the press of a button, the restraints around Francine tightened. She felt pressure across her neck and chest, forcing out a gasp, and thick probes pushed forcefully into her sex and bottom.

“I HAVE YOU NOW!”

Terrified, Francine have a choked scream, desperately pulling at her restraints. Her overstimulated imagination was drowning her body in conflicting flight-or-freeze reactions.

“Please, please...” she gasped, “let me go...”

“DOWN! DOWN TO THE DEEP”

The background behind the shadowy figure changed to be a rushing tunnel effect, the red turning to purple and then a darkening blue, as the white noise grew ever louder in Francine’s ears. She screamed again, and again, eventually going near-catatonic with terror.

Now, a series of grainy black and white images started to appear from the center of her vision, quickly growing to occupy nearly her whole view before slipping off to the side. She recognized the basement of the Ministry—faceless women chained to racks, hooded figures wielding batons, glaring bright lights and darkness... Now faint screams started to play through her headphones, backed by evil laughing. The electrodes around her middle started to deliver short sharp shocks, similar in shape if not magnitude to a stun baton.

“Please, please don’t take me back,” she sobbed, her imagination seeing herself in the images. “I didn’t do anything! I didn’t!”

The white noise started to fade away, eventually leaving just her heartbeat in her ears. The pictures stopped appearing, leaving just the menacing shadow in her vision.

Francine was way too far gone to feel the probe in her bottom deliver a new dose of drugs, but they swirled around inside her and were rapidly absorbed into her bloodstream.

“Forget.” A single, flat word.

“Forget? I don’t understand,” Francine whimpered.

“Forget.” Now the voice started to echo. “Forget. Forget.” It was in time with the beating of her heart. Then it started to change slightly, the timing in her left ear slightly out of time with her right.

The Director closely examined the eye on her screen, looking for the first signs of the hypnotic taking effect. Francine’s mind was totally scrambled by now, but the Director still needed to nudge her into a specific condition before she could start the next phase.

Finally, she saw the loss of focus, and started a low hum in the headphones. It was so faint, initially, that Francine likely thought she was imagining it, but it soon grew in volume, again out of sync between her ears.

“Francine...” the Director purred, her voice no longer modified, just audible above the humming.

“Huh? Help... help me!” Francine’s eye was searching again, trying in vain to locate the voice. “So lost..”

“Francine...” the Director breathed, barely audible, as if she were moving away.

“NOOOOO! Come back, please!” Francine started to hyperventilate.

“Francine... Francine...” So faint that only its regularity made it perceptible against the background hum.

Francine broke, tears streaming from her eyes. “I don’t... I can’t...” She sobbed, messily, while the Director made a gesture to the patient Darsi. Francine was so overcome with fear and sensation of loss that the needle in her exposed buttock didn’t even .

The hum increased in volume until it was just below ear-damaging levels. Francine reflexively tried to cup her hands over her ears, but to no effect.

The Director watched patiently as the fast-acting sedative took over, and the distressed girl’s eyes quickly closed.

“Thank you, ladies! Back to my room with her, please.”

“Francine...”

A soft voice, teasing her out of her black pit.

“Francine...”

Suddenly, hope surged through her. She opened her eyes to find the Director looking at her with an expression of kindly concern.

“Francine, are you okay?”

She leapt out of the wheelchair, wrapping her arms tightly around the Director. A waterfall of tears soaked the shoulder of the Director’s white coat.

“Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!”

The Director gently embraced her. “I’m here, Francine. You’re safe with me. You’re safe.”

“I was... I was...”

“You were having a bad regression,” the Director informed her calmly. “You let your bad memories and thoughts take over you.” She stroked Francine’s back. “That’s why I’m here, Francine. I can protect you from ‘them’.”

She held the girl until she felt the shaking sobs start to reduce, then guided her back into the chair.

“Do you want me to protect you from ‘them’ coming back?” She watched fear return to the girl’s eyes as she contemplated it. “I can do it, but I need you to be willing.”

“Please, please protect me,” Francine mumbled. “I can’t stand it—them—they’re so dark... It’s horrible.”

“Very well.” The Director drew up a syringe. “I’m going to give you something to relax you, then we’re going to close your eyes and have you rest. All you need to do is listen to my voice. Is that okay?”

Francine nodded, biting her lip. She twitched as the needle went in, but didn’t object.

“Very good. Now close your eyes...” Darsi placed a soft blanket over the girl as she obeyed. “Breathe out... and in... and out... Listen only to my voice... I’m the only thing that matters...”

Half an hour later, Francine had been installed with iron-clad hypnotic compulsions to avoid talking about anything that had happened in the Ministry, or in the Institute. The Director sat back in her chair, satisfied. The psychological terror she had been infected with in the Compulsion Chair had been neatly twisted around to guard the inconvenient memories.

“You feel safe now,” she murmured. “When I count to three, you will fall into a deep, refreshing sleep, and wake up with no memory of what happened here. One, two,

...” Darsi was ready with the chair strap, securing the girl as she slumped into sleep on “three”.

“Take her to the guest room please, Darsi,” the Director said, polishing her glasses. “And then, let’s talk to little Hanna.”

“They are psychologically unable to reveal anything that they have been told to forget? Impressive.” Medina sipped at her tea.

“And, compelled to anything I tell them to —whether or not it happened.” The Director spread her arms. “And this, my dear Medina, is where you come in. You did bring your notebook?”

“I did,” Medina confirmed. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, now that they are appropriately treated, my little birds are ready to fly home. I have someone willing to drive them to the border today. But first, wouldn’t it be a scoop if your news organization was able to write the story of their escape from those underground elements opposed to foreigners in our country?”

“It sounds to me as if you have a narrative,” Medina smirked, pulling out her short hand notebook and pen.

“I will give them—and you—the details when I take you to meet them,” the Director said. “I should warn you, however, that—for reasons we need not go into—one of them, Judy, has what you might term ‘complete retrograde amnesia’. She has, in effect, no recollection of past events—though, I’m sure we can help her start to fill in the blank space.”

“I’m sure that ‘we’ can,” said Medina dryly. “You’re looking for me to publish a story, I take it?”

“Indeed! I’d ask you to wait until we have confirmation that they have safely left the country, but then the quicker we can publish our story, the easier it will be for the narrative to ‘stick’.”

“We’d be happy to have the exclusive,” Medina agreed. “I take it that you’d prefer the Institute not to be named?”

“If you would be so kind.”

Fatima walked uncertainly down the corridor, holding Nina’s hand. Every time she looked up at the older woman, she felt a tremble of pleasure go through her.

“Here we are...” Nina unlocked a door, marked simply “Nina”, and ushered Fatima inside.

It was a small but comfortable apartment, with a compact living area and kitchen, though Nina led Fatima through to the bedroom.

“Wait here for a moment,” she instructed, rooting around in a cupboard before returning a basket of plastic, rubber and metal objects. She placed it on the bed, then pulled off her scrubs, and sat naked next to the basket.

“Come to my lap, my darling.” She opened her arms.

“Yes, Mommy Nina,” Fatima said almost reflexively. She sat herself down on the older woman’s lap, staring up at her.

Nina gave her a warm smile. “I know what you need, darling.” She put her arm behind Fatima and tilted her back, then eased her plump white breast over the girl’s face. “Suckle from Mommy.”

Fatima obeyed, gently sucking on the warm, wide nipple. She heard Nina give a little moan of pleasure, and increased her effort.

“Such a good girl,” Nina purred. “Mommy Nina has something special for you...” Her free hand found its way down to Fatima’s slit, and tickled its way in, gently stimulating the girl.

“You like it when Mommy does this, don’t you?” Nina whispered. “Mommy can do other things with you too ...”

She withdrew her hand and picked a small vibrator out of the basket. With an expert touch, she guided it to Fatima’s nub and turned it on.

Fatima squirmed as she was expertly played with, but kept her lips firmly fastened on the nipple. Nina giggled, carefully teasing the girl’s sensitive rosebud.

“I can keep this up for hours,” she whispered mischievously. “Can you, my little one?” She pressed a little harder, and Fatima gave a long moan behind the breast.

Nina let the girl squirm for another few minutes, then changed her angle and aim, mounting a determined push towards climax for Fatima.

“Keep suckling from Mommy Nina,” she encouraged. Fatima’s eyes were starting to roll back in her head as she tried to keep up despite the lightning bolts running through her. “That’s right... good girl... come for Mommy Nina!” She tipped her breast out of the girl’s mouth as Fatima gave a loud squeal, writhing in Nina’s lap while the climax burned at her.

Patiently, Nina waited for the girl’s breathing to slow and her eyes to refocus. She looked in Fatima’s eyes, seeing the girl’s confused but adoring expression.

“There’s nobody for you but Mommy Nina, is there?” she cooed. “Mommy knows what you need.”

She squeezed some lube on her fingers and moved her hand back down between Fatima’s legs—but now, a little further.

“Let Mommy in,” she soothed, lubing the girl’s already-violated starfish. “That’s right...” Two fingers found their way into the hole and started to press apart, stretching Fatima again.

“Take Mommy’s breast again,” she encouraged the girl, tickling Fatima’s lips with her nipple. “That’s right...” As the girl latched on again, she stretched a little more, twisting her hand to ensure the entrance was well-lubed.

“This might feel strange,” she murmured, taking a new item out of the basket and covering its end with more lube, “but you know you are safe with Mommy Nina, don’t you?” Fatima nodded, still diligently suckling, and Nina gave her a warm smile.

“Just relax...” She placed the blunt steel cone of the toy between the girl’s cheeks, and started to push.

“Mmmph!” Fatima’s eyes widened as she was stretched again, this time much further.

Nina kept the pressure on, slowly twisting the toy left and right. “Trust Mommy Nina...” She watched carefully, until she saw the girl start to relax, then gave a sudden hard push.

Fatima screamed, small bubbles appearing on her lips as the spike of impossibly-combined pain and pleasure hit her. Her starfish contracted back around the narrower shaft of the toy, settling the head deep inside her.

“What did I tell you?” Nina crooned, pulling the girl closer to her. “Now you can enjoy the feeling...” She slowly worked the toy inside the girl, carefully massaging her. “Doesn’t that feel good?” She used her ing hand to gently stroke the back of the girl’s neck.

Fatima’s eyes rolled as the strange sensations flowed through her. She was almost unaware of her continued suckling of Nina’s breast. In a daze of emotions and feelings, she unconsciously cuddled closer into Nina, feeling the older woman’s warmth and inhaling her scent.

Finally, Nina carefully withdrew her breast again, and placed the dizzy girl on the bed. She moved up on the bed herself, head on the pillows, and spread her legs wide.

“Now it’s time for you to serve Mommy Nina,” she cooed. “Come to Mommy. You know want to do...”

Fatima rolled over to see Nina’s face smiling at her from between her spread legs. Her sex was pink and prominent. Fatima moved slowly until she was just above Nina’s mound, scenting the musky perfume arising from inside her, then bent her head to her task.

“That’s my girl...” Nina briefly closed her eyes as the tongue lapped at her. “Oh yes, my darling, that’s just what Mommy Nina needs. That’s right, keep going...” Fatima took hold of Nina’s leg to get a better position, and started to work deeper in. “Ohhhhh...” Nina started to shiver. As she looked down at the young woman under her complete control, a thrill of power ran through her. “Come now, take Mommy Nina higher...”

Fatima worked diligently, bringing her small fingers to play, and Nina felt herself start to lose control. She surrendered willingly, letting her body get pulled over the edge of the waterfall.

“That’s it, that’s it, just a bit harder, faster, faster.... Aaaaaaah! AAAAHHH! YES!” Her legs slammed together, nearly squashing Fatima, as she rode through the climax. Fatima felt Nina’s hot, damp thighs press against her, and tasted Nina’s honey as it came out in a gush.

Once Nina stopped seeing stars, and regained her breath, she reached down and pulled Fatima up to lie in front of her, spooning. She nuzzled the girl’s dark hair and felt her soft, warm skin.

“Thank you, baby,” she purred. “Mommy Nina is very pleased with you.” She wiggled a little closer in, and caressed Fatima’s mound. “Doesn’t it feel nice being with Mommy?”

“Very nice,” Fatima agreed, in her warm glow of sexual fulfillment and skin-to-skin comfort.

Nina smiled to herself, knowing how deeply Fatima was now compelled to be with her. Her hand wandered around. “Hmm, what’s this?” Deftly she slipped the toy out of Fatima’s bottom with an audible “pop!” making the girl squeak in surprise. “You forgot it was there, hmm?” She giggled. “Oh my darling, you’ve got so much to learn from Mommy Nina.“

She pulled a sheet over both of them. “Sleep, my darling.” She kissed the back of Fatima’s neck, making the girl shiver involuntarily. “There will be more fun tomorrow.”