The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Type Writer Chpt. 3

Not only was she gone, but my living room looked completely untouched. The couch wasn’t in disarray, there were no clothes strewn about, and there wasn’t the glass she had been drinking from. What the fuck had happened…. Oh no.

Butterfly effect.

Scrambling back to my office, I snatched my computer and mashed Ctrl+Z and then Save. The line about being submissive disappeared and I heard a call from the other room.

“Are you coming?”

Taking my laptop from the table I poked my head out and found her still sitting on the couch. She was facing away from me, thankfully. Quiet as I could, I pressed redo, returning the sexuality line to the page. Nothing changed. Then I clicked save and just watched the room blink to unmarred.

I spent a few seconds bouncing her in and out of my apartment before putting the computer down. This was a tomorrow problem.

She gave me a small smile as I walked up.

“Sorry,” I said, walking forward. “The ones I found had expired. Had to find fresh ones.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “Shall we?”

And we did. I didn’t quite make it all night, but I felt three showings over the course of two hours wasn’t bad. Mandi certainly seemed to think so, eventually staggering back to her apartment on shaky legs. But to be honest, my mind was elsewhere the entire night. Sex with Mandi was fun, but deep down I was a dom and her aggressive stance wouldn’t work long term. I needed to figure out a way to make it so she was both submissive AND still here.

* * *

Morning came before I had an idea. To be perfectly honest, I had collapsed into bed from exertion and slept until 11. It was only over breakfast when the thought occurred to me. I could just add fields to the document. I could update her address. Coffee still in hand, I went to my laptop and jiggled the mouse awake. One handed, I reentered her sexuality as submissive and then added a new line.

Elm Park, IL 60707.

Done! I just had to click save and… an error message popped up.

«Error: Address inconsistent with backstory. Please rectify.»

The fuck?

Quickly, I scrolled down. There was a lot that had auto-filled in last night, but I made a point to go through line by line, looking for what didn’t match my memory.

It wasn’t until the second-to-last paragraph that I found it.

“Mandi was starting to get scared as her girlfriend started slamming doors and stopped taking no for an answer. But she had always been a people pleaser. Always been a bit submissive. As scary as it was, she just couldn’t bring herself to leave.”

Fuck me. I knew her ex was an asshole, but this was a degree beyond. One of the things BDSM was HUGE on was consent. No still meant no. The doors were also a concern, a potential gateway to worse behavior, but to be honest it didn’t really compare to the lack of consent.

Sure, I might be doing something similar, but the person Mandi was had consented, initiated in most cases. There was a part of my brain that argued I was mind controlling her, that it wasn’t really different from this girl, but it was. There was every piece of evidence Mandi was enjoying this on my end and none here. How dare she take my…

My?

Ah fuck, I was catching feels.

Well, I guess there was more than one reason to change this. I wanted Mandi and I wanted her with me. So now I just had to figure out how to make it happen.

I tried to add a line about her relationship status and updating it to single, but that also threw an error with her sexuality. Mandi had mentioned that this girl went full stalker when she left. It would seem that being submissive also made it impossible for her not to be in a relationship with this girl.

Quickly I deleted both her relationship status and sexuality so that she wouldn’t be trapped there. She had never noticed any of the changes, but it still didn’t sit right leaving her with Danielle. A part of me wanted to leave it there, call it done and be happy with Mandi as she was, friends with benefits. But the moment I thought that, I knew I couldn’t do it. Having someone who I could literally shape spoke to the dom part of me in ways I didn’t know the world could. Mandi was like clay before me, the perfect sub. Sculptable in ways no other human ever could be. I had started this wanting a romance story to practice and instead had created one for myself. It wouldn’t satisfy my editor, but fuck it. This was likely a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I just had to accept that she wasn’t going to be submissive or figure out a way to change her backstory so that she was still here. I looked over the screen and tried to find a way to have my cake and eat it too.

It didn’t come to me right away. In fact, it didn’t come to me at all. I spent hours staring at the character sheet and getting nothing. I tried to fill the time with my romance novel, writing down fictionalized s of what had happened with Mandi and me. Just the broad strokes of boy meets girl, dinner, date, first time having sex. None of the magic. However, when I finished the section of the book that had happened, I didn’t have an idea of where to go from here.

Ultimately it was Mandi who gave me the idea.

* * *

Mandi and I weren’t dating, but we were certainly spending a lot of time together. The sex had been deemed good enough, but she wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship with the lingering frustration of her ex hanging over her head and I wasn’t ready to jump into a relationship with someone who wasn’t what I truly wanted. We still fucked. A lot. I was getting a lot less sleep than normal, but still felt more rejuvenated than I had in months.

We also talked a lot. Turns out, even without me making changes, she and I had a lot of things in common. We both had a fondness for sci-fi (movies mostly on her end. I spent a long evening trying to convince her to read Ender’s Game), we both were former theater kids (she was a techie and I was an actor), and we spent way too much time binging Fantasy shows (we refused to discuss Game of Thrones outside of how we were both disappointed with the ending).

But even as this friendship grew, the sex was getting less and less satisfying. Having to hold back, restrain my natural tendencies in the bedroom was frustrating to say the least. And she didn’t seem much better, with more and more blips of frustration showing through when there was a struggle or a push back instead of a redirection. Both of us wanted to take control, neither wanted to give it up. It was very quickly turning into Linda all over again.

Thankfully, she ascribed at least part of my frustration to the book. It was sweet and absolutely added to my growing infatuation.

“Still at a block?” she asked as we were sprawled in her bed. It was a bit smaller than mine, but given the rates we had been going through sheets, we needed to swap off. Plus, it wasn’t fair for her to always be the one walking across the hall with shaky legs.

“Yep”

“And still no ideas.”

“Nope.” She thought the issue was that I couldn’t come up with a realistic conflict for the story instead of how to turn into a submissive who still lived across the hall from me.

“I’m sorry Chris, that sounds awful.”

I nodded mutely.

“You could always have ninja’s break down the door?”

I gave her a skeptical look to which she shrugged and dear lord did it do lovely things with her breasts.

“I’ve been doing some research during my breaks. You’ve helped me out so much, I just want to give back somehow.”

That was actually really sweet and completely unrelated to anything I had done. If I hadn’t already started falling for her, I would’ve then.

“You’re smiling,” she stated.

“And?”

“Why?”

I put on my best smirk, “Well, I was just thinking about how much you’ve given…”

She hit me with a pillow, all smiles, “The sex is good for both of us, don’t you try to paint me into that corner.”

I nodded, but the smile that moment had brought quickly faded.

“Chandler’s Law is a wonderful way to pump your word count for a novice, but I’m supposed to be better at this. Plus adding random ninjas to the book would put me well out of the editorial mandate.” Not that I was within that mandate, but that would require way more explanation than I cared to give.

“Sure, but it doesn’t have to be a guy with a gun. It could just be another character. Maybe a rival for her affection? Or, I don’t know, an angry ex.”

I started to shake my head, but something she had said stuck with me. Another character.

“Mandi, you’re a genius!” I said leaping up and kissing her square on the lips.

“Thank you?” she said, but I was already gone and through the door in the hallway.

This had all started with making a character sheet for Andi. Why couldn’t I do the same for her ex?

* * *

A blank page blinked before me. I wasn’t sure how I had gotten Mandi’s sheet to work in the first place, but it had started with a blank document. No way to know for sure if this would work, but I had to try.

The first issue became apparent was that I didn’t know her name, but that was quickly fixed with a text to Mandi. Danielle Clarke.

The second issue is that when I attempted to save the document, another error message popped up.

«Error: Invalid character»

Fuck, that would just be too easy. Well so much for that…

I looked over the screen for a second, specifically at Mandi’s character sheet, trying to figure out what was different between her sheet and her ex’s. Both had the first and last name.

But, I had written Andi’s sheet after having met her, after she had told me her name. Names, or at least true names, always had some special power in the books I read. Heck, the plot of my last book was tricking the Lich Sedorre into speaking his true name of his own free will so that the party could use it in an unraveling ritual. Curious, I took a moment and made a character sheet for Sandra, my friend of 15 years. She had definitely freely given me her name before. It took me far longer than it did for Andi since I knew so much more about Sandra, but when it was done and I clicked save, the document didn’t throw any errors.

Okay, we were back in business.

Closing out Sandra’s sheet, I pulled Mandi’s to the front. I changed her sexuality to submissive again and watched as the last paragraph of her backstory changed in a blink. I couldn’t change his story directly, but since Danielle’s was so heavily entwined with hers, I might be able to change it indirectly. I read it over a few times before deleting the entire thing and starting from scratch.

“When Danielle’s job fired her, her behavior got worse. Still, Mandi didn’t leave. Instead, she started looking for a job that might take care of them. Part of her hoped that she could move and leave Danielle behind, but it wasn’t so. She moved with Mandi. Mandi was just left with the hope that a new city might change things for them.”

I clicked save and felt a smile as no errors showed up. Mandi’s hope was about to come true.

I looked over her sheet again and noticed that the address hadn’t been filled in, which I took to mean that they hadn’t moved in next door, but that was an easy enough fix. With a quick click and well practiced typing, I set her address to 316 N. Washington. This time it saved no problem. Now all I needed was to introduce myself to the neighbors. I quickly stood up, walked out into the hallway and knocked on the door.

Mandi answered it. There was no cheer in her eyes, no bounce in her step and while I had been frustrated by Danielle keeping her from me, that made me hate her. I had originally planned to just write her out of Mandi’s life, but that was replaced instantly with thoughts of the cruelest revenges I could imagine. Writers are very petty like that. Bully us once in middle school, and we’ll kill you in every book we write for years to come.

But even more than I wanted something awful to happen to Danielle, I wanted to pull Mandi to my chest and tell her it would be alright. Instead, I kept my hands at my side since we were effectively strangers now and put on my best welcoming smile.

“Hi, I know you’re new here, but I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself. Chris Fairchild.” I said, extending my hand to shake.

Mandi looked at me and then at my hand and back to me with a confused look. “Yeah,” she eventually said, “I know who you are, you helped us move in last week.”

Fuck.

“One sec,” I said, running back to my computer. The backstory had updated again, complete with details of me helping, but I didn’t have memories of helping which means I didn’t have memories of Danielle sharing her name. Would that matter? I don’t know, but I wasn’t about to risk it. With a quick flick, I changed the line of them moving in with my help to them moving in solo and then added an extra line about how they haven’t interacted with their neighbors at all yet, they were just too busy.

Save. No errors.

Only then did I walk back across the hall and knock on their door again. Again, Mandi answered the door.

“Hi, I know you’re new here, but I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself. Chris Fairchild.” I said, extending my hand to shake.

She looked at my hand and at me, but instead of confusion there was a sad acceptance. “A pleasure,” she said, with a brittle smile. “I’m Mandi. Let me go get Danielle. I’m sure she’d like to meet you.”

I nodded trying not to let the anger and anticipation I felt inside show.

She went to the back, to the bedroom we had shared.

“Hon,” she softly called, “One of the neighbors is here. Wants to introduce himself.”

It took the better part of five minutes for Danielle to come out while Mandi and I made really awkward small talk. I had been expecting a creep, but what I got instead was a caricature. She looked like the stereotypical entitled jock lesbian from any movie from the last decade.

She was tall and muscled in a way that immediately made me wonder how many steroids there were stashed under the sink. They bulged oddly on her, what I guessed was Japanese, frame. I had heard that steroids would shrink a woman’s breasts and give them horrific mood swings, and given how she power walked into the room and looked flatter than a board, I imagined the amount of ’roids she had taken was somewhere in the ballpark of a fuckton.

She even walked like a stereotype, power-walking into the room from her shoulders like an overly macho bodybuilder. It was so… artificial that it hurt. I hated her even more in that moment, but I had a plan. Instead of laughing at the sheer obscenity of it all, I put on my best smile and stuck out my hand.

“Hi, I’m Chris Fairchild, your neighbor. I’ve been trying to welcome you to the building for a bit, but we must just keep missing each other.

Danielle spared Mandi a glance, but her eyes were carefully on the floor.

“Yeah,” she eventually said. “Pleasure Chris. I’m Danielle. Danielle Clarke.”

I smiled even wider, though I knew she didn’t understand why. “Clarke with or without an e,” I asked, all sugar and smiles.

“E,” she clarified, clearly off balance. “C-L-A-R-K-E”.

“Thank you,” I said as warmly as I could, “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry for interrupting…” I trailed off and gave Mandi a significant glance, “Whatever you were up to.”

She gave me a bare tilt, “Napping. Still, important to meet the neighbors.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

We tried a bit more small talk after that, but I had to excuse myself after the second time Danielle talked over Mandi. She had this look of resigned acceptance that absolutely broke my heart. I’m sure Danielle gave me some funny looks as I left, but I wasn’t paying attention. In fact, the moment their door clicked close, I was running back to my computer. I input Danielle’s characteristics as fast as I could type.

Now, the moment of truth. I hovered the Save button and then, delicately, clicked it.

It saved. No errors.

I knew a wicked grin was blooming on my face as I went to work.

I knew a wicked grin was blooming on my face as I went to work.

I didn’t have Danielle’s backstory, but a few changes to Mandi’s sheet removed Danielle from the picture and let me get all of the important details right from Mandi’s overly candid mouth.

Danielle’s father had walked out at a young age and the stepfather she had married after was such a pushover that Danielle could do whatever she wanted. Which meant she grew up entitled, unchecked, and convinced that the proper thing to do was bully and be a domineering partner. Danielle’s mom, Mandi said, was as at least bad to her as Danielle was.

Which led to my plan.

Originally I was just going to write her out of Mandi’s life. But given how Mandi had already found one asshole and gotten stuck with her, I wasn’t about to risk having her replaced with someone worse. Plus given what I had seen and how attached I had gotten to Mandi over the past two weeks, just simply removing Danielle from Mandi’s life wouldn’t be enough. I’d like to say that this was a result of my sense of justice but there was no way I could play that when I was altering reality to my whims. The simple truth was that Danielle had gotten in my way and hurt someone I had come to care about and so she was going to suffer. And while writing her to her death would be the traditional way of doing that (fuck you Justin B.), I wasn’t ready to truly murder someone with my words.

Well, if Danielle took so heavily after her mother, then all I needed to do was change her mother and in theory Danielle should follow.

So instead of the absentee dad, Danielle had a slightly changed father. See, Danielle’s mother had been a hard partying girl until she found a man who didn’t fall for her bullshit. They struggled, they bickered, but ultimately her mother had found that she enjoyed having someone who could put her in her place, who could and would boss her around. She had been a hard-ass bitch, but after just a few months with Danielle’s Father, she realized that all she wanted out of life was to be a submissive housewife who spent every moment of her life trying to make her man happy.

And as Danielle grew up, she saw how happy her mother was in complete and abject submission and so that became her goal in life.

And her family would love and her into such a life, shaping her into being the perfect submissive female. How would that change… everything?

I just had to know.

First things first. On Danielle’s sheet I added two new categories, one for her father and one for her mother and filled them in exactly as I had described. And then I added everything I had just figured out to Danielle’s backstory. I clicked save and the computer locked up, the mouse turned into a spinning ball.

«Warning: Large change pending. Attempting to reconcile»

I sucked air through my teeth. I knew that these changes would be big, but I didn’t think that the computer might not be able to handle it. I waited a few minutes, but when the working wheel kept spinning, I left the room to make myself some food. When I came back twenty minutes later, the machine was still working. I was worried but tried not to think about it. Instead of letting myself dwell on it, I instead turned on the TV and caught the tail end of a generic shoot’em up.

The next time I came back to my computer, there was a new message.

«Change successful»

Excellent!

I sat down and began to type again, but before I could even make a single change, a new error popped up.

«Error: Not enough data to identify which Danielle Clarke specifically. Please provide additional information.»

Hrmm, that had a few implications, but it was an easy enough fix. My computer wasn’t open Danielle’s Facebook page, but it was easy enough to navigate through Mandi’s and find her friend Dani. I smiled as I clicked on the page and found myself looking at a very curvy, very petite asian woman who clearly liked to take selfies. Scrolling through the page, I started to fill in information.

The boob job was a guess, but given the photos from before and after college, she certainly gained a size somehow. The issue was that both she and Mandi were still in Seattle and both were in what seemed to be fairly stable relationships, but I had already figured out a fix for that.

I typed and added a single line to Dani’s sheet.

I chuckled as both Dani’s character sheet and facebook changed slightly. Her clothes got a lot more risque and her outfits featured chokers way more, but as a whole nothing else changed. I added chokers to her quirks and then went to Mandi’s sheet.

I took a brief look through both of their facebooks and found exactly what I had hoped for. College photos of Mandi and Dani together and a feed notification that Dani and Mandi had started dating in college. It had ended since, but the friendship still seemed to be going given how more recent photos still showed them frequently together. They clearly cared for one another, which would make the next part easier. Clicking out of the character sheets and into the text, I started to the buffet scene.

* * *

“I kind of feel bad,” Chris confessed. “Leaving Dani all alone.”

Mandi shook her head, “That’s sweet, but she’s just not in a place where going out in public is easy for her.”

“Oh? Can you tell me more?”

Mandi took her fork and set it aside for the first time all evening. ‘Oh, this was clearly going to be serious’ thought Chris following Mandi’s cue and setting his fork aside.

“Sure. Dani’s last boyfriend was an asshole, a real creep. He latched onto Dani the first week of work when we went to Bottoms Up, the local BDSM club, and just would not let go. She’s always been a real sweetheart but she’s never been good at saying no. Couple that with the fact that she loves the idea of having a Master and he was a dom and well, it was inevitable. It started out sweet and innocent enough.”

“But,” Chris prompted.

“But he started pushing boundaries. Going beyond the boundaries they had initially discussed. Dani’s game for pretty much anything provided that it doesn’t leave permanent marks and it doesn’t risk her job. So when she showed up to work with a huge bruise on her shoulder I knew something was wrong.”

“She didn’t even say anything, she just started crying. Once she had a moment where she wasn’t drowning in her own tears, she told me all about the lines he was crossing. Bruises, but also requiring nude photos during work, keeping her tied up until her shift. All sorts of shit like he was trying to get her fired. Make her more dependent on him.”

“Fuck,” Chris said quietly.

Mandi nodded, “I mean, it’s Dani’s dream to be a full-time live-in Slave, find someone she can really trust to be her Master. But there’s a big difference between choosing that life and being forced into it.”

“So what did you do?”

“I put in my two weeks notice, put in a job application here, and made her do the same. We moved out one night when he thought we were working and didn’t look back.”

“What if he comes after her?”

“We’ve cut our social media, we’ve got new phones, and to be perfectly honest we didn’t have a lot of friends out there. The ones who we do have know the whole story and won’t tell him shit. Plus, I left a tip on the Anonymous Tip hotline. With any luck we’ll get picked up for something sleazy.”

There was a long silence as they both picked at their food letting the story settle over them.

“Well,” Chris said eventually, “Here’s hoping Chicago treats you much better. The BDSM crowd here’s a lot more inclusive and friendly. Hopefully you, and Dani, can find someone.” If there was an undercurrent of hope in his voice, he certainly didn’t want to it it.

Mandi smiled, full and radiant, eyes fixed on Chris. “Oh, we’ve got our eyes on someone. Just got to see if he’s up for it.”

Chris suddenly felt a lot more than hopeful.

* * *

I sat back, satisfied and clicked save. No issues. Carefully, I poked my head out into the hallway and checked the living room. They weren’t here, but the address line had been set to have them as my neighbors. Satisfied, I took a moment to look over Dani’s sheet one more time.

I thought about it for a moment, added “Candor” to her quirks as well, and then, satisfied, I went to bed.