The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU IMPRINT

CODES: mc, ff, bd

SYNOPSIS:

A cautionary tale, in which an impulsive decision to adjust a coworker’s attitude produces unexpected consequences.

NOTES:

This story is a work of fiction; any apparent resemblance between the characters in this story and any actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.

Do not read this story if you are under the age of 18 or if explicit sexual fiction is illegal in your jurisdiction.

This story contains mind control and explicit descriptions of bondage and sexual intercourse between two women. If any of these concepts disturb you, find something else to read.

* * *

Kimberley showed up during lunch hour to beg for a quickie. Again. It was getting pretty damn tiresome, in several senses of the word.

I had to oblige her, though. Denial just made her more desperate to satisfy her craving, and I didn’t know—and didn’t want to find out —what she might do if I persisted in rejecting her advances. Besides, it was my own damn fault....

* * *

I slipped out into the hall, away from the office Christmas party. I’d already had too much to drink, if I was dumb enough to start an argument with Ed Kropitz. The only thing to do now was disappear and hope that somebody else created an even more memorable spectacle.

Around the corner, I heard a couple of people approaching. It was Kimberley the intern, chatting with somebody whose voice I didn’t recognize. I hid in the supply closet, thinking I was terribly clever to eavesdrop and maybe find out what she really thought about her boss.

“...she keeps peeking over my shoulder to ‘monitor my work’...”

I grinned, remembering when I’d been the one grousing about the boss watching me to confirm that I was actually doing my job. Her next words wiped the grin off my face.

“...yeah, right! I can tell she’s peeking down my blouse! Goddamn degenerate pervert dyke—they ought to put them all on an island somewhere away from normal people!”

I froze in shock. I knew that she was a disrespectful smartass, but not that she was a bigoted asshole. Outside there was silence, until the other voice spoke up haltingly.

“Ahhh... uh... maybe you should come back to the party and have a drink and relax.”

“You know I don’t drink,” Kimberley snidely replied.

Somehow that made it so much worse. At least Ed had the excuse of being drunk, and the jokes I’d snapped at him about were just stupid gay stereotypes, not downright hatefulness like this. Shock gave way to cold rage. That fucking bitch had no idea what it was like, being a lesbian—

And that’s when I got my clever idea.

* * *

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, I recalled ruefully as I led Kimberley toward the storeroom where I’d set up the arrangements for our sessions. Nobody saw us this time, but I knew that we’d already been spotted enough times to inspire rumors about me and my pretty young intern. It was only a matter of time before we got caught in the act.

It could be worse, though. At least we could do this somewhere that offered at least a chance of privacy. Kimberley wasn’t fixated on the site of the original incident, the way she was on so many of the other details....

* * *

Kimberley’s friend excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, or so she said. Probably she was uncomfortable about what she’d just heard but too chickenshit to make an issue of it.

I’d been handed a perfect opportunity to catch Kimberley alone. Quickly, I scanned the shelves. When I saw the bottle of chloroform, it was like Fate itself giving me the thumbs-up. It was easy enough to find everything else I needed: a rag, a plastic bag, and a roll of duct tape. There would be at least one gurney in the lab, complete with straps to assure that the test subject didn’t move too far while the calibrators and induction coils mounted to the underside of the platform traced and stimulated the desired neural connections.

As I emerged from the supply closet, I did my best to look businesslike as I give her a story about recalibrating the electromagnets in the Neural Imaging Lab. She’d groused about being put to work in the middle of the party, of course, but I told her it would only take a few minutes. I even managed to flash a sincere grin to go along with that comment.

I let Kimberley lead the way, so she wouldn’t notice that I was constantly looking all around to make sure we weren’t seen. Well, almost constantly. My gaze did linger on her backside once or twice. Every sway of her hips made me more eager to carry out my plan.

In a few minutes, we were at the deserted lab at the other end of the building. As soon as we were inside, I stepped close and pressed the rag over her face. She was taken completely by surprise, and quickly slumped to the floor. I trussed her up, laid her on a gurney, strapped her in, and wheeled it into the Neuro-Associative Stimulator control room.

* * *

It made things easier that she didn’t need to repeat the experience in the same location, or to be knocked out again. She did need to be firmly bound the same way she was during the initial imprinting: arms taped behind her back, loops of tape around the calves, double-layered “X” over the mouth, and the patient-restraint straps of the gurney fastened down. Skimping on any of those details made the experience unsatisfying for her, and she started getting needy again within hours. Doing it right could keep her cravings at bay for two or even three days.

I wanted to do this right. Maybe I’d get through this weekend in peace....

* * *

Kimberley’s eyes opened wide as she came to, and she tried to scream. I flinched; more sound was getting through the improvised gag than I’d expected. I was glad for the loud whirring noises as the coils warmed up to standby mode.

I stood beside her, grinning nastily. Her eyes looked up at me pleadingly.

“Now, don’t you wish you’d come to me and politely explained that you felt uncomfortable with my looking over your shoulder? But, no, you had to go and make guttersnipe comments about me to your friends.”

Her jaw and cheeks wriggled as she made a futile attempt to speak. Maybe she was trying to say she was sorry. Well, it was a bit late to make everything all right with an apology.

No, as I looked her up and down, I had own ideas about how she would make it up to me. The straps and the tape were annoying distractions—I’m not into that stuff, but it was a necessary inconvenience for now—but it was easy enough to visualize them being removed, followed by her clothes....

“If you can’t be polite to me, I see no reason why I need to be polite to you. Not until you’ve learned some manners. But this device ought to be good for teaching.”

After taking a moment to check the status display, I beamed at her. “Ninety-one percent calibrated. In about thirty seconds, I can energize the induction units. After that, every sensation you experience will trigger the pleasure center of your brain, and generate vivid memories of pure bliss.”

I began unbuttoning my blouse as Kimberley stared in shock. “That ought to be just enough time to get my clothes off, so that your very first pleasure imprint will be the sight of my naked body. And then... well, what do you think a ‘degenerate pervert dyke’ like me has in store for a pretty girl like you?”

She thrashed frantically and tried to scream through her gag. I undid the last few buttons slowly, while watching to make sure she didn’t get loose and listening for anyone approaching the lab. By the time the blouse fell to the floor, I was confident that there was nothing to worry about.

“That’s not going to do you any good,” I told her as I kicked off my shoes. Apparently she believed me, or perhaps she just got tired; her struggles faded as I took off my slacks.

As I unhooked my bra clasp, I quipped, “I wonder if they have a topless beach on that ‘island away from normal people’ where you want to send people like me.” I smirked as the bra fell loose. “You’re about to become one of those people, yourself.” My smirk broadened to an outright leer. “And you’re about to become topless, too.”

I glanced at the screen as I slid my panties down my thighs. Ninety-eight percent ready... ninety-nine.... “Maybe we could be roommates on that island.”

The green light shone on the panel. I pressed the button.

* * *

The cartoon-villain I-have-you-now-my-pretty rant got more annoying each time. Dishing out the verbal abuse was the worst part. No matter how I tried to recall how hurt and angry I’d been at her remarks, it felt like kicking a puppy.

But it couldn’t be helped. Repeating that part of the original experience was one of the things she needed to give her respite from the yearnings I’d implanted in her brain.

Good thing I’d said that we might be roommates on her hypothetical Lesbian Exile Island. I made sure to reiterate THAT point every time. At least I wasn’t going to open my door one day to find her on the doorstep and a moving van in the driveway. Probably....

* * *

As promised, my first move was to unbutton and peel back her blouse. The clasp of her bra was in back, out of reach, so I found a scissors and snipped it between the cups.

She took a deep breath as I squeezed her tits, hard. “You like that. You can’t deny that you like that. Why, you must be some kind of...” I paused and put on an exaggerated show of trying to remember something, and finally snapped my fingers. “’degenerate pervert dyke’!” I concluded in a mocking imitation of her voice.

“Yes, Kimberley, you’re a dyke now. A queer. A homosexual. A lesbian. Just like me.” Her body jerked as I pinched her nipples. I worried for a moment that the coil alignment might be disrupted, but the panel still showed green.

“Now that you realize that, aren’t you sorry for those things you said?” I pinched her nipples again, harder. “Aren’t you sorry?” She made an affirmative-sounding “uh-huh” grunt into her gag and nodded as far as the strap across her forehead permitted.

My attentions to her tits became gentler, as my resentment of her slurs faded away. An apology did help after all. It just wasn’t nearly enough, and not nearly all that I wanted from her.

“It’s perfectly natural and normal that you want to have sex with another woman... that you want to have sex with me. You’re pleased that I want to have sex with you. You’re thrilled that it will happen, in the next few minutes.”

Her nipples hardened under my stoking thumbs. “You feel positive about being a lesbian. You feel good about being my lesbian lover. You enjoy the sight of my body. You are pleased and flattered that I enjoy the sight of your body.”

I kneaded her tits, less forcefully but with more thorough coverage than my first gropings. “The touch of my hands gives you pleasure.” I licked my lips. “The touch of my lips and tongue is even better.”

Leaning close, I touched the tip of my tongue to her right nipple, then took it into my mouth. For a long time, I licked and sucked on her tits, pausing only to switch sides now and then.

* * *

I downplayed the ‘conversion’ speech as much I thought I could get away with. I had a feeling that it was reinforcing her new in-your-face capital-L—hell-capital-everything—LESBIAN persona. Her cubicle now looked like a gay-pride emporium, and she usually wore at least one item of rainbow-emblem or interlocked-female-symbols jewelry. That didn’t exactly damp down the spread of rumors about us.

I wondered what her friend made of that. Probably thought her homophobic outburst was a last frantic gasp of denial.

Much as I hated doing it, I administered some full-force squeezes and pinches. Another of the fixations I’d given her, satisfied and checked off. At least after that was done I could move on to the nipple-nuzzling. That was the one part of these sessions that felt pleasant and not uncomfortable. I made it last until I could no longer ignore the wriggling that signaled her urgent need to finish this....

* * *

Finally, I stood up, ready to move on to the climax, so to speak, that would cement Kimberley’s conversion into my lesbian love slave.

I unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks, and pulled them as far down her thighs as I could manage given the way her legs were bound together.

“Oh, you’re getting so nice and wet!” I purred as I noticed the dark spot at the front of her panties. “You’re so horny for me, so eager to enjoy your first time with another woman.”

I stepped back to increase the power of the Stimulator a notch. I figured it couldn’t hurt to imprint the actual sex act as strongly as possible. Returning to her side, I leaned over her and possessively planted a hand on her thigh.

“All I have to do now is pull down your panties, move in a bit closer, and press these lips...” I flicked my tongue over them “....against those lips.” I slid two fingernails down the damp fabric. Her hips wriggled. I leered. “That’s only the slightest hint of the pleasure you’re about to experience.”

I hooked my fingers under her panty waistband and began slow-walking it down her hips, lowering it in half-inch steps one side at a time. “I can make it happen any time I want. As soon as I decide the moment is right. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Slowly, I tugged at one side of the fabric, and then the other, walking it down her hips bit by bit. “Ah, but you don’t want to stop me. You want this. You’re already imagining how good it will feel.”

Her body language, even restricted as it was, confirmed that. She stared wide-eyed at me and lifted her hips as far as the straps would allow. Encouraging noises emerged from the tape over her mouth.

I teased her, lowering her panties even more slowly. Her bush came into view, and I leaned close enough to ruffle it with my breath. Her pussy was bared, and I waggled my tongue in the air two inches above it. She breathed hard and grunted into her gag. She wanted it, all right, very badly.

Finally, the panties slid completely down onto her thighs. My access to her sex was limited only by her legs, which were bound a bit too close together. I’d stuffed a pillow between her calves, but it wasn’t working as well as I’d expected. I decided that it would be good enough.

Hey eyes widened as I stood up straight. A muffled moan of frustration escaped through her gag.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m not going to keep you waiting very long. Just long enough to do this right.”

I lifted myself onto the platform, and got one leg up and over Kimberley’s body. With a bit of knee-walking, I got myself into place, straddling her and facing toward her feet.

Slowly, carefully, I lowered myself onto her. “That’s right, Kimberley... just lie back and let my naked body press tight against yours.” My tits squeezed against her belly, and I felt hers against mine. We rubbed together delightfully as I wriggled myself into position.

“And now the time is right, darling. Time for you to feel my lips and tongue against your lips and clit. Time for you to be swallowed up in pleasure beyond anything you’ve ever thought possible. Time for you to begin your new life as my pretty little lesbian pussy pet.”

I buried my face between her thighs and began to make good on that promise.

* * *

The tape rubbed against my pubes. It didn’t chafe—after that one time, I was careful not to leave any bits of the sticky side exposed—but it reminded me of how little I was getting out of this. I wished that I’d put my foot down and insisted that she do for me what I was about to do for her.

I sighed, and remembered our second encounter. Kimberley had been waiting for me in my office, with the gurney and the duct tape and the urgent pleading to reenact her experience in the lab. Afterwards, she’d turned to go... and I’d told her that she wasn’t quite finished yet. She’d watched me sit up on the gurney, spread my legs, and beckon her closer.

Finally, she’d spoken in a soft unsteady voice, offering to do whatever I wanted if I’d promise to satisfy her need when it flared up again. As she’d mechanically stepped forward and knelt between my feet, I’d realized that she’d never actually tasted my cunt while under the Stimulator, and so the idea of going down on another woman repulsed her as much as ever. When I’d conditioned her to enjoy lesbian sex, I’d just sort of assumed that muff diving—in both directions—was part of the package. Apparently not.

I’d stopped her just as she’d worked up the nerve to begin lowering her head into position. I’d told her to stand up, given her the promise, and demanded nothing from her in return....

* * *

I had to press myself hard against Kimberley’s body and extend my tongue as far as it would go to reach her sensitive spots. It seemed as if every time I made contact, I’d have to pull back so I could gasp in another lungful of air.

Kimberley didn’t seem to mind. Her excitement continued to build, judging from her heavy breathing and the occasional moans that slipped through her sealed lips. Despite the less-than-ideal conditions, I was giving her the greatest sexual experience of her life. The Stimulator was making sure of that, as it amplified her pleasure response and linked her memories of this event to sensations of pure delight.

Despite the close press of Kimberley’s thighs, I managed to get my face positioned so that I could inhale without breaking contact. I basked in the scent of her arousal, felt her quiver as the tip of my tongue flicked onto just the right spot, and told myself that it wasn’t all the Stimulator’s doing.

Before long, I felt her hips beginning to tremble, and then rhythmically thrusting upward. I paused to take two deep breaths, and then redoubled my efforts for one last push over the top. I could feel her getting closer... closer... and then she bucked hard against me as climax took her.

I gasped until my lungs felt back to normal. Even when I’d found a position that let me breathe, it hadn’t been quite enough. Eventually, when my muscles all seemed to be working properly again, I began twisting and maneuvering until I managed to get myself turned around. Then I relaxed and settled into place on top of Kimberley, looking into her eyes and smiling.

“You like having me make love to you.” It was a simple statement of fact, and her eyes did not try to deny it. “And you’re going to like it even more next time, and the time after that, and the time after that.” I idly slid the toes of my right foot against her ankle. “You and I are going to have so much fun together.” I rubbed noses with her, then lightly kissed the tape over her mouth.

Stupid tape. It was keeping me from kissing her properly; it had kept her from joining me in a proper sixty-nine. I couldn’t even get myself off by humping her leg—another problem with her thighs being held a bit too close together. I’d have to tear it off eventually, but not now; the pain would completely ruin the mellow mood of the moment. Stupid tape.

Oh, well, I wouldn’t need the stupid tape next time, I thought.

* * *

Getting at her clit was easier with a larger pillow between her calves. Apparently, there was some wiggle room about that detail; I’d used this pillow three times now and it had proven acceptable.

I wondered if I could substitute a spreader bar. My improvisations had kept Kimberley bound until the Stimulator did its work, but a good restraint arrangement would have given me better access to her body and left her with enough freedom of movement to satisfy me as she began acting on her newly instilled desires. That much was clear from my Internet research.

Eventually, I’d probably need to consult Helga. The problem was that she’d almost certainly heard the rumors, and if I started asking her Bondage 101 questions she’d get the idea that I was into that stuff and start hitting on me. Maybe I ought to let her give me some hands-on tutoring in the subject....

* * *

When I got to my feet again, I saw red lights out of the corner of my eye. Taking a closer look at the status panel, I saw that the main inducer coil unit had overheated and shut down.

After a moment of panic, I calmed down as I noted that the unit had shut down gracefully. There had been no short circuit or power surge to disrupt the process. It had simply powered down smoothly. Better yet, it had worked up until two minutes ago. By then, we were finished, and basking in our post-coital cuddle. The fact that Kimberley’s behavior hadn’t suddenly changed after the shutdown confirmed that my experiment was a success.

Yes, everything had worked perfectly. The coil would need to be replaced before it could be used again, but that wasn’t a problem. I had Kimberley; I didn’t need a whole harem. With admin access, I could erase all traces that the equipment had been used this afternoon. The next user would assume that it had failed at startup, and order a replacement through my office. Now, all I needed to do was get Kimberley out of here, clean up, and leave before anybody wandered by.

I stepped back to the gurney, and unfastened the straps. I peeled back the tape, flinching as she winced, feeling guilty at how I’d looked forward to inflicting this pain when I’d taped her up. The Kimberley who’d said those hurtful things was not the Kimberley I was releasing from this duct-tape cocoon.

Finally, I got the last of it off her. I smiled reassuringly as she got to her feet.

“Until next time, darling,” I said as she walked away, still looking a bit dazed. After putting everything back the way it was and erasing the logs, I made my way back to my office on autopilot. I spent the rest of the afternoon there, and the entire evening at home, daydreaming about Kimberley. Soon, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the day after, but surely not more than three or four days from now, her new desires would bring her back to me, and then I would enjoy her properly.

I dreamed that night about sharing my bed with her, and woke the next morning in tangled sheets and damp panties.

* * *

As I climbed down, I was glad that I’d set aside an extra-wide heavy-duty gurney. I still don’t know how I managed to do this on a standard model without collapsing the platform or falling off.

Without speaking, I released her from her bonds. The tape came off easily; I’d lightly oiled it to insure that. Fortunately, Kimberley only craved restraint, not pain. Maybe it was a good thing the inducer unit had quit: I probably wouldn’t have thought of deactivating it before pulling the stuff off her skin.

As usual, I tried to give her a bra to replace the one I’d cut apart. As usual, she refused to take it. Kimberley’s braless afternoons had become part of the office gossip.

We slipped out of the room, unseen. Good, the situation wasn’t going to get any worse than it was already. I returned to my office, and immediately checked my e-mail inbox.

There was a new message titled “Re: Induction Coil Order #38927”. I took a deep breath and prayed that it was a shipping notice for the part I needed to get the Neuro-Associative Stimulator working again. Once I had that, I could do something about this mess.

The mouse pointer hovered over the message header, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to look. Instead, my thoughts went back to the choice I’d have to make once the Stimulator was operational again. It might be possible to use the device and the recordings from the first session to put Kimberley’s mind back the way it was. Or I could take her to the lab for another treatment and modify her desire for me into a less demanding and more mutually satisfying form. The first option was riskier, I thought... or maybe I just told myself that so I’d have an excuse to choose the second one.

Oh, well, I wouldn’t have to decide until the part actually showed up. I opened the message. It was a backorder notice. The part would be delayed for at least another week.

I pounded my head against the desk. It felt strangely good. Maybe that’s what some people see in that BDSM stuff....