The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

If you are younger than 18 years;
If sex is taboo with your neighborhood peers;
Offended by words of perversion and sleaze?
Take your eyes elsewhere... immediately, please!”

Note: This story is more of “conditioning” MC story. It contains no overt hypnosis and no mind warping technology other than through the direct action of one set of people. Also, thanks to Hecate for indulging with me in a “Hopper Swap”, in which we take two unfinished story ideas and both write stories that merge the ideas.

That said, I hope you enjoy it.

© 2001 by Sara H

All rights reserved. Do not post this story elsewhere without the express, written permission of the author.

* * *

Captive Audience

by Sara H

* * *

Lucia looked at Diana in disbelief. “But you two were the perfect couple, Diana. How could Rodney accuse you of such a thing?

“Look, Lucia. Marriage isn’t all that secure. The doubt is there from day one. All it takes is someone to bring it forward.”

“Okay, but not you. I know you’d never play around on him.”

“Do you? Maybe you do, and maybe you don’t.”

Lucia looked confused. “Diana... what are you saying? Did you have an affair?”

“You see? You’re already wondering, and you were so sure a second ago.” Diana looked smugly at her friend.

“Yes, but that’s different. He was married to you. He should’ve trusted you. He should’ve known,” insisted Lucia.

“I agree, but it doesn’t work that way in the real world. Look, I’ll prove it to you later tonight, at my place. I’ll show you just how fragile relationships really are.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. You’re getting married in less then six weeks. You should go into it with open eyes.”

A waiter approached the table. “Are you ready to order,” he asked politely, “or do you need a few more minutes?”

* * *

Lucia looked nervously around the kitchen, and then back to her friend. “I stopped doing things like this when I was twelve, Diana. Besides, there’s Caller ID.”

“I’ll disable it. Look, it’s my phone, anyway. Now hand me the phone book.”

Lucia had never been able to stand up to Diana, and this time was no different. She handed her divorced friend the large volume and sat across from her, nervously rubbing her hands together as her friend ran her finger down the columns.

Lucia watched a smile cross Diana’s face as she whispered, “Perfect.”

She winced as Diana picked up the phone and dialed a few numbers, and then a few more. Diana tossed her hair back and, smiling, put the phone to her ear. “It’s ringing,” she said, giggling.

“Hello. Is Terry there?”

There was a pause as Diana listened to the response.

“Yes, that would be great! Just say that Yvonne called to say that our evening together was that most beautiful expression of love I’ve ever known, and I can’t wait until we can make it forever.”

Lucia’s eyes bugged as she looked at Diana in shock.

Diana continued, “Yes, it’s Yvonne. Is this the sister Terry said lives there?”

She hung up. “She didn’t have anything to say, but the wheels were turning. I could hear them over the phone.”

Lucia gulped. “I guess I see what you mean. But you didn’t have to wreck a marriage to prove it, did you?”

“Why not? Someone ruined mine through insinuation. I’m just ‘paying it forward’.”

Lucia seemed ready to cry.

Diana gently took her friends hands. “Look, it takes more than one call to do lasting damage. This might even bring them closer. Get them communicating.”

“It could also tear them apart,” answered Lucia.

“Life is full of risks,” Dianne shrugged. “Who knows where we’ll be tomorrow, or how things will turn out?”

* * *

Darkness.

That was what she could see.

The blindfold was tight enough that colors exploded in the blackness of the backs of her eyelids, but otherwise, there was nothing.

She couldn’t remember how she had ended up in this position.

Once the fear had died down a bit, she had realized that she was riding in a car—a large one, from the feel. She reached up to remove the blindfold. Hands firmly stopped her motion.

She felt around her, touching the people on each side of her. She realized that she should be more upset about this, but her thoughts were sluggish and a little confused. She wondered absently if she’d been drugged.

Women. She could tell that much. Perfume, and the weight of their breathing. They didn’t speak, and she knew enough not speak herself, but to simply sit and wait. Even through the relaxation, she felt the danger.

She could feel the car making turns, but there was no use in paying attention. She was already completely lost.

She slept.

* * *

She woke up, and she was lying flat on her back, arms extended out and back. The same was true of her legs. She was unable to move, held in place by strong and unyielding bonds.

As she became more fully aware, she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the blindfold. It was stuck like glue. In fact, it had been replaced... she could open her eyes and let them move freely. It made her feel even more disoriented, and she found herself, oddly, wishing for the pressure she had felt in the car.

It had been a point of focus; it had helped her locate herself.

She heard rustling and moved her head to the right, as if she could see something there. Hands gripped her head and jaw, forcing it open, inserting a large gag that held her teeth wide apart and pressed her tongue backwards. She felt it being buckled into place, and moaned.

Something slipped into her ears, and the world was silent, except for the sound of her own breathing. It sounded like an obscene phone call from hell.

She began to feel as if she could see. Crazy spiraling patterns covered the inside of the blindfold, and closing her eyes offered no relief. They morphed into images of strange dragons and snakes. She wondered, as she watched, how long it would be before her mind snapped. How long before the hallucinations seemed real. She wondered what tortures her kidnappers had planned for her.

She realized, well beyond the words for it, that she was in deep, deep trouble.

She lost track of time.

* * *

She woke up again. There was something on her neck. She jerked and screamed, and then lay quietly shivering. After a moment, she recognized it. A tongue. She could feel the hot breath that swept over her skin, and she felt her nipples stiffen involuntarily.

She jerked again as another tongue joined it, and felt hair slide down her body and the tongues became lips and kisses, licking their way to her breasts. She screamed into her gag and the tongues disappeared. Her earplugs were gone.

She screamed again.

She jerked as something stung the inside of her thigh. She heard the air whistle and felt another sharp, deep sting. A crop! They were using a fucking crop on her!

The tongues returned and she didn’t move, but shook as they began their insistent journey back towards her breasts. She didn’t scream this time. She had gotten the message.

She began to feel like an observer, watching herself, noting her reactions.

And, so help her, it felt good. She didn’t want it to. But the mouths and tongues were the only company she’d had in what seemed like ages. She opened to them.

She started to get wet.

Another tongue joined the others, licking her belly, making it quiver in pleasure. She tried silently to fight it, but the sensations were coming too fast for her to ignore. Before she even realized it, the new lips were kissing their way to her exposed sex.

It was too much. She began to violently pull on the ropes, trying to pull away from her pleasuring tormentors. The lips pulled away again, and she heard the swishing of the crop.

One sting.

Another.

And then, across her belly, a stroke that she knew would raise a welt. She began to cry softly into her gag, head shaking no, trying to let her captors know she wouldn’t resist.

It was no use. She heard the crop scream by one ear, and then the other. Her fear itself was deafening, and then the crops screamed again, and she braced...

... as a hot, soft tongue began to lick her thigh. Shesquealed in fear and shock and her body broke completely, her psyche tortured and spent. The other lips and tongues returned to her nipples, suckling harder and harder as the roving tongue between her legs moved its way up to her aching, itching snatch.

Again, she didn’t allow it to go unchallenged.

She welcomed the tongue sliding up her slit with open arms.

And open legs.

Quite literally.

* * *

She opened her eyes and squinted up at a single light in the ceiling. Her mind reeled suddenly as she realized her blindfold had been removed.

She saw that she was lying on a padded bench, and she stood, working the stiffness out of her legs. She walked through an open archway into a bathroom. It was rather inelegant, but clean. She’d never known what a miracle it could be to see the toilet she’d been using.

And there was a shower. It would do.

She reveled in the hot water caressing her body, and let her thoughts wander back over the time she had spent here. She had completely lost track. It felt like days, and it felt like hours. She had no idea where she was, or what was to come.

She wondered why she had no blindfold. It almost felt as if she missed it. It was somehow easier not to have to see.

Her thoughts turned to her friends and relatives, and she cried as she pondered their worry. She stopped slowly as she realized it was irrelevant. This was where she was, and this was quite possibly where she would be for some time to come. Maybe always. Another name on a missing persons list stuck away in file cabinet in the back of a warehouse on the outskirts of town.

She walked back into the “bedroom”. There was a bowl of some kind of soup, a napkin, and a spoon. She ate it quickly, not thinking of how it had arrived, and went back to the sink to get some water.

It could have been worse... the soup was rather tasty.

She found, despite herself, that she was grateful.

She fell to the ground as she walked back again, and crawled for a moment before she lost consciousness.

* * *

Life had become a ritual of sorts. Her thoughts rarely wandered. She knew she had been here for months. It no longer mattered to her. It was just one of a thousand facts that held no relevance anymore... some because they were too painful, and some because they had no longer had any meaning at all.

There were the things which brought pleasure, and the things which brought her pain. Sometimes, she wanted both. They kept her from being alone.

They made her feel loved.

The doorknob turned and her eyes widened. Then, quickly, she closed them and knelt at the side of her cage... the cage that had long ago replaced the bench, which had replaced the bed.

She was guided to her feet by the Goddesses of Wonder and Torment, the angels she had felt often but never seen.

Except for once, when she had opened her eyes and seen a pair of shapely legs. She’d been caught, and the pain was the most intense she had ever endured—more than enough to keep her from making the same mistake again.

The horrible days of total isolation that followed had burned it in beyond questioning.

That was before. This was now, and she was being taken on a walk. She could feel the air moving and swirling around her nakedness, and the temperature change, although only very slightly. Her senses had come alive in her time with the Goddesses.

She was pressed into a chair... no, a bench. It was narrow, and covered in leather. She could smell the aroma and her nostrils flared briefly in anticipation.

Her head was lifted. She opened her mouth, ready for her usual gag, but it didn’t come. Instead, her head was held as something was stretched over her head. Her nose picked up a different scent as her hair pulled painfully.

Latex. A long, mouth-filling gag, a part of the mask, was pressed far back into her mouth. Her pussy became wet with anticipation. She always loved new games, and this was one she certainly hadn’t played before.

She found that although the gag nearly reached to her throat, she could breath through it, if somewhat stiffly. She felt something being moved around and inserted into her nostrils, flaring them, and then she could breathe through her nose, too.

Her arms were pulled outward and restrained. Tight, form fitting panties were pulled up her legs, and she lifted obediently at a touch to her buttocks. They were constraining and stretchy—from the sound and feel, they were latex as well. She felt something at the round circle of her asshole, and before she knew what had happened, a long plug filled her. She was grateful it had been made slippery.

For the first time in many, many sessions, she felt embarrassed and lowly. To be plugged up the ass by the Goddesses and seen by them was bad enough... but the erotic thrill that was racing through her was making her cheeks flush even more hotly. She could feel them under the mask.

It only made her cringe more completely. Which made her hotter. Which made her feel more lowly. Which made her hotter. She felt the familiar cycle of feelings beginning as her sense of reality slipped slowly out of her grasp.

Again.

The panties were tight on her now, as relentless as waves at the beach.

Waves.

At the beach.

Breaking.

Broken.

Frothy.

Roaring.

Endless.

Her thoughts flowered into a dreamlike scene, and she was riding on the waves, being the waves, being the beach, being everything. Anything.

Anything her Goddesses wanted.

Breathing became more difficult. She realized that she could no longer take air through her mouth. She tried, but it was useless. Her chest heaved as she fought for every breath.

After a time, she became used to the feel. Something long and slim fell across her belly. Hoses. Nose hoses. She tried to laugh but only sputtered and breathed again.

Her pussy was on fire with need. Her nipples were stretched so tight that she could feel the skin pulling. She welcomed her growing arousal.

She hoped... no, she knew the Goddesses would be pleased.

Hands began to caress her. Tongues licked. Lips kissed. Her body responded, fighting upward to give more of herself to the Invisible Ones.

Moans escaped through the hoses and transmuted into some vague animal sound... an animal locked away in a cupboard, wild and free, trying to escape.

Something cold and hard touched her pussy. She jumped and screamed. As she heard the sound escape from the hoses, she thought of an elephant trumpeting and nearly came.

As if they sensed her nearing climax, the Goddesses’ touches disappeared.

The hard coldness made its way up into her pussy, pressing into her and against the wall between itself and the dildo deep inside her ass. She clenched and pulled them together, relishing the feeling... the gift... her Goddesses were giving her.

She realized that the cold hardness was a vibrator. It pulled out and then she shivered as she felt it taped to her thighs, tight against her swollen labia, forcing them open so that it rested on her clit. She moved her hips—to her delight, it only pressed tighter against her.

And then her eyes, under the mask, burst open. She couldn’t breathe! They had plugged the holes! Her Goddesses were going to kill her... and there was no way to stop them! She felt a torrent of regret pass through her as she wondered how she could have displeased them so much... and as she was about to pass out...

Breath came. She breathed so deeply that for a moment, she didn’t even notice.

She began to come to her senses.

She had the mask on. The panties. The dildo. The hose. The vibrator.

She clenched hard as a strong buzzing ripped through her, like fire on her clit, forcing her body to test her bonds. And then it was gone, leaving her with only the air moving over her body, like a cool breeze on the beach.

The cycle began. She felt her body, and then her mind slip into focus, only able to grasp each moment as it passed.

Her hands were tied. The vibrator was on, and then it was off. Then on again. She could do nothing about it. And the mask on her face. The hose led down into her latex panties. All she could smell was latex and her own arousal. Such exquisite agony.

Ecstasy.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

It was like an electric light, a bolt of lightning on her sex. Her head filled with her scent... it was drowning her, and the buzzing was deafening her, and it was moving far beyond anything she could touch or try to understand.

Her body began to buck and shake despite her efforts to control it... and then she realized it was the Goddesses who control, control all, know all, give all... give... on... give... off... give... on... give...

Approaching orgasm swept through her loins and asshole, pulling her belly tight, bruising her thighs as she pulled, screams torn from her throat and around the gag, her nose pulling herself into herself, latex, musk, beauty, cumming, so close, cum, have to, so... fucking... close... need to...

Her mind shattered into a billion particles of light as the pleasure danced, and then gathered, and then coursed through her veins, showering her with sparking wave after wave of glorious Goddess-given torment and joy. Her mind surrendered as she rode the waves and rode the waves and rode the waves, each crest higher, until she could see the world disappearing in a blinding explosion of lust and love, leaving her to fall into the depths of bliss and perfection...

* * *

Her body was still shaking in pleasure when she awakened. She was free of the mask, but she could still smell her own scent deep in her core. She prayed that it would never go away. She prayed that she would always please her Goddesses. Obediently, she kept her eyes closed.

And then, a voice spoke. She choked off a shocked scream. She recoiled at the first sound of a voice in nearly six months.

But it was full of gentility and kindness, of light and dark, and of perfect understanding.

It moved through her like irresistible thunder.

It had been so long since she had had the company of anything but her own thoughts that the meaning of the words took a moment to sink in.

“Diana. You have served well. You are beautiful and please us greatly. But all things come to a crux... a moment where things go forward, or come to an end.

“Do you remember Sharon and Terry?”

Diana tried to think, but her mind refused to go backward that far. Then, like a stuck faucet, it all came dripping back in, one word at a time. She cringed in sudden horror and understanding. But... that was a married couple...

“Yes,” she answered, her voice unable to do more than croak.

“You were clever. Most of the time, blocking Caller ID works fine. However, as a lesbian couple, we’d been receiving harassing phone calls, and the phone company was monitoring every number that dialed in. We caught the man who was trying to scare us. We also caught you.

“But once we found you, and had you investigated, we decided that we would give you a little taste of what happens when you play with fire.”

Diana moaned in shame, her eyes still tightly closed.

“Open your eyes.”

Diana complied slowly.

The walls were completely black. She looked straight up, unwavering in the soft reflected light.

“Very good, Diana. You may look at us.”

Diana let her gaze drift downward, and gasped as she saw her Goddesses. One was tall and thin, with a long crew cut dyed yellow-blond. Her sharp features and black spandex catsuit made her all the more imposing. In her hand, she held a long, white crop.

“Angel...” whispered Diana.

“Mistress Terry,” corrected the angel.

Diana turned her gaze to the left, to see a short, slightly pudgy woman with long, curly jet black hair looking back at her. She was wearing bra and panties of what looked like black kid leather. Her lips, full and round, moved slightly as she watched Diana in return. Diana felt heated desire surge through her body.

“Mistress Sharon,” Diana stated.

“Again, very good, pet,” said Mistress Sharon.

She continued. “Initially, we were only going to scare you, and keep you for a week or two, and let you go. But when your disappearance went unnoticed...”

Diana winced.

“... and no one wanted you back, we decided we were having too much fun, and you were much too compliant to let go.

“But eventually, we knew the choice to remain would have to be yours. You’ve awakened something in us that we had no idea would have so much depth... but to share that depth, you must choose to be with us, no longer a prisoner, but a willing... shall we say... slave.”

The corners of Mistress Sharon’s lips hinted at a smile.

“Therefore, if you wish, you may leave. We will return you to your former life if you so desire. Or, you may stay and join us. The choice is yours. Completely. You may not ask questions. Every relationship involves a certain amount of... risk.”

Diana considered for a moment, but there was no need for thought. She already knew her mind. “Thank you, Goddess. I would much prefer to stay.” Her pussy burned with passion as she said the words.

“Very good, slave diana.”

Mistress Sharon’s voice became earthy and low. “Incidentally, slave, when we had you investigated, our private eye was very thorough. We looked into every aspect of your life. Let no stone unturned, took no chances.

“So... it may be of interest to you that we are considering Lucia as our next... trainee.”

slave diana smiled darkly. Lucia would be married by now. No matter... marriages were such fragile things.

Fin.

* * *