The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A short time later we emerged from the ladies room, this time with Mandy in tow. We were met at the front door by the same cute, little hostess as before. “Are you sure you two girls don’t need some help or a ride somewhere?” the attractive brunette offered.

“Yes if you don’t mind, hold this while I get the car,” I replied and walked out into the parking lot leaving a very nervous Mandy in the girl’s charge. When I got back the young girl walked Mandy to the door and helped me put her into the front seat of the car.

“Sure you don’t need some more help?” asked the hostess again.

“That ok, it’s not far,” I replied as she buckled Mandy into the front seat. “Not too tight is it?” I whispered into the ear of my new weekend slave.

“Do you mean the seat belt, the handcuffs or these damn twist ties you’ve put on my nipples?” Mandy replied through clenched teeth.

“Oh I almost forgot about those,” I said. “Wait, I have an idea.” I reached into the car and pulled down Mandy’s dress revealing her darkly swollen nipples, each tightly squeezed by several wraps of wire twist ties. “What do you think?” I asked the hostess.

Without missing a beat she replied “They look a little slack to me,” and she reached out to each of Mandy’s nipples and gave the ties another half turn twist.

“EEEEK!” cried Mandy with feeling.

“Don’t you have a gag for her?” said the hostess.

“Oh I do like the way you think!” I chuckled, and with that I removed the bullet’s remote control. I turned the vibe up to high. Mandy screamed again and tried to twist her way out of the seat. “I’ll need your help to fix that, I’m afraid. May I borrow your panties?” I yelled to the hostess who now seemed more than eager to help out.

She calmly and quickly reached up under her short skirt and pulled down her panties before handing them to me. Wadding them into a tight ball I stuffed them into Mandy’s open mouth. It was then that my assistant spotted the ballgag on the console. Like an experienced pro she pulled the leather strap out of the ball and used it to strap the panties even deeper into Mandy’s mouth.

I held the remote to Mandy’s face. “For the rest of the weekend I OWN YOU!” I told her defiantly. Then, with the horrified, bound and gagged Mandy only able to watch, I opened the remote control with the bullet continuing to run wildly at full speed. I took out the batteries and threw them into the woods next to the parking lot. “We’re taking the long way home through the construction yard!” I explained and we drove off into the night.

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Poor Mandy was a trembling, sweaty mess by the time I got her home. Her sensual ordeal had left her so exhausted that she meekly complied when I packed her off to bed, still coated in her sexual juices and tightly cuffed, chained and collared.

I let her sleep in the following morning, partly because I expected her to need all her strength, but mostly because I hadn’t a clue what I was going to do with her for the rest of the weekend. When the phone rang unexpectedly I was almost relieved and even more so when I realised who was calling.

It seemed that the cute hostess, whose name I soon discovered was Clare, had been particularly taken with both Mandy and myself. She’d gone so far as to check our home phone number from when Mandy had made the reservation (a transgression for which she apologised profusely) and wanted to know if we’d been interested in a night out at a club she knew.

She tried to play it cool, but I could immediately tell that Mandy liked the idea and so, somewhat against my better judgement, we agreed to meet up with her at the ridiculously named Latex Snake.

There wasn’t any latex in my wardrobe (although it didn’t surprise me to discover that Mandy had quite a collection of catsuits). But we had plenty of time and, deep down, I’m sure Mandy enjoyed being led around the local fetish clothing shop while her own Silver Bullet massaged away any embarrassment.

And, by the time we’d both squeezed into the obscenely tight outfits, we were ready for the night of our lives.

The latex spread down from my throat, clinging as though it had been painted on. It stretched down my arms. A single strap terminated each sleeve and wrapped around my middle finger. It really did nothing to conceal, the material was just too sheer and you could pick out every muscle, as well as the tightness of my perky nipples and the smoothness of my cleanly shave mound.

Mandy’s outfit made mine look positive conservative. Translucent, red latex didn’t hide anything and the readily accessible zippers made certain I could access any part of her sweet body whenever I chose. The same discrete collar still adorned her throat, but I had replaced the hand-cuffs with a pair of sturdy leather manacles. These were clipped to a long and much more slender chain which ran from the back of the collar and down to her shackled ankles.

The effect was to hobble her movements and further add to her sense of powerlessness. Then, just to complete the picture, I replaced the now fading bullet with a somewhat sturdier remote butterfly vibe.

We looked incredible.

Clare certainly thought so. In fact, I had to reach out and gently close her mouth when she first caught sight of us. Not that she didn’t look sexy as hell in her purple outfit. It had started life as a catsuit, of that I was sure, but panels had been cut, revealing lightly tanned and quite heavily tattooed flesh beneath.

The keyhole cut over her cleavage revealed the admonishment, “Handle with care.” And I had no doubt that was exactly what I intended to do.

But first she led us through the crowd and up to the bar.

“I have a present for your pet,” she whispered before once again sliding off her panties. This time Mandy needed no encouragement to open her mouth and accept the already soaking material. Her eyes went very wide as the tight ball was buckled and then locked in place. “Ah, I think she has tasted the little treat I added,” Clare giggled.

“Treat?” I wondered staring at this mischievous pixie.

“Well, I thought your pet deserved a drink as well,” she explained her eyes twinkling. “So I emptied a shot over them. Here’s yours, cheers.” And with that, she knocked back a shot glass of dark red liquor. I stared at my own glass for about a heartbeat and then chucked it back. The alcohol scorched the back of my throat, nearly making me cough, but I somehow managed to suppress the reflex even though it left me with tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Mazel Tov,” I spluttered as the fiery liquid burned its way down to my stomach. “What the hell was that?”

“A Red Hot Slut,” Clare giggled and this time I couldn’t help but join in.

Date rape drugs have come a long way since the halcyon days of Rohypnol and GHB. After all, as Peter Benchley so eloquently penned, most people don’t “fuck corpses.” Disinhibitors and workable aphrodisiacs have largely replaced the primitive sedatives. Smarter drugs are still being refined and the appetite for such chemicals seems limitless.

Naturally there are some who still cling to the ‘old ways’ and, for those who particularly enjoy the struggle, inhaled anaesthetics still remain the chemical cosh of choice. Whatever else happens in the field of pharmacology, ‘the cloth’ and the intimate grappling favoured by its users is here to stay.

The light came back to my world very slowly. I closed my eyelids hard again, squeezing them shut this time trying to clear my blurry vision. Once again it had little effect. Something told me the fog was in my brain, not lying out there somewhere before my eyes. Nothing they had taught me in the past nine weeks of advanced training could help me clear the drug-induced pall I was suffocating under.

Slowly, ever so slowly the room continued to brighten. A shaft of light marked the floor in front of me. I tried to lift my head. It felt heavy and the motion made the room spin. Still I fought through the discomforting and managed to force my head up. My neck felt tight. It refused to move the way I wanted it to. Something was restricting it, something wide and thick.

Next I became aware of my jaw. It ached. My mouth was open. I felt wetness on my chin. I was drooling profusely. My brain told my muscles to close my mouth. They tried but I still couldn’t move my jaw. I forced myself to concentrate on those muscles. I strained to close my mouth. Something was holding it open. I found I could compress it. It was soft, like rubber. I felt it with my tongue. It was round, like a ball. It was a ball. There was a rubber ball jammed in my mouth. What the hell was that doing there?

I tried to push it out with my tongue. It didn’t budge. I felt something pressing on my cheeks and the back of my neck. It was some kind of strap. The ball was held in my mouth by some kind of strap. I summoned my strength and shook my head. “Clack, Clack.” What was that metallic sound coming from the back of my head? I shook my head again. “Clack, Clack, Clack.” I knew that sound. I had heard it before trying to shake open the locked barnyard door as a child. A padlock, why the hell did I had a padlock hung on the back of my throbbing neck?

I shook my head again, fighting off the sense of dizziness and was rewarded with the sound of a second padlock. Something was wrapped around my neck. Something wide and thick was pressing firmly against my throat and restricting my head movements. Whatever was holding the ball in my mouth wasn’t coming out any time soon and the band pressing so tightly into my neck was secured with the same type of heavy lock.

Still puzzled by this mystery my numbed mind tried to investigate. It dawned on me very quickly that I was lying on my stomach. My arms were somewhere behind me. My brain urged my hands to check out the situation… no response. Another more complicated command went out. My fists clenched, my hands pulled apart but only moved a couple of inches before they stopped with a loud snapping sound. At the same time I tried to move my arms to my sides and felt a tightening in my shoulders.

They had been pulled back quite severely. I tried to separate my arms and found they were secured at the elbows. This led me to try moving my elbows and I was disturbed to find they were welded together quite firmly. I guessed it was rope because I found a little give in it but no amount of tugging was going to separate them. So I went back to shaking my hands. I heard a clattering of chain and felt cold steel restraining my wrists, a feeling I recognised. It was handcuffs!

Slowly it was dawning on me that I was going to need all of my self-taught skills to free myself from this predicament. After several minutes of struggling and having broken out in a sweat I realised that the bindings welding my elbows and hands together were no coming off without help… help or some kind of plan.

The struggling was beginning to awaken the rest of my body. I felt something strange, very strange around my waist and backside. My groping hands found a leather belt encircling my waist. At the back I felt yet another padlock. It was very cold and apparently quite secure. Unfortunately for me, my curiosity meant I had to explore. I yanked on it hard. “AHHHHHGGGGHHH!” my scream leapt from around the ballgag.

Instantly everything below my waist exploded to life. Pleasure I had never known shot up my pussy and asshole like white hot lightning. “HOLY SHIT!” my brain cried out. “Some bastard has jammed a couple of tree trunks up me. My GOD I’ve got to get these out, they are killing me!” was all I could think.

Frantically I tore at the strap only to discover it was locked very tightly around my waist. My handcuffed hands traced it down the crack of my ass until they found the base of a butt plug. It was large, very large by my standards since nothing other than my doctor’s finger had ever been in there before. “This thing has got to come out NOW!” My fingers stretched to get around and under the crotch strap but I found very little slack there and then I then found something that made my mind go blank.

I found the keeper. A thick, leather buckle surrounding the crotch strap and firmly attached to the base of the enormous plug. The two were inseparable. There was no way the plug was coming out until I managed to remove the belt. Still it didn’t keep me from tugging at it even though I had long since realised such efforts were useless.

The dildo locked inside my poor little pussy was getting some serious motion from my constant tugging. And that was beginning to get me off. I could feel my juices flowing. My body was saying “Oh yes, yes,” and was betraying my mind which was in anguish over the violation of my asshole. You see technically I was still a virgin, at least in this department. I had, of course, during my many self-bondage adventures, placed a wide variety of pulsating, vibrating and otherwise quite pleasurable toys inside my hot, wet pussy. But never, NEVER had my asshole been violated and now the psychological shock of that was far more devastating than anything the three inch rubber intruder might inflict.

I fought back the tears for as long as I could but soon broke down and then, my strength exhausted, my brain in sensory overload, I passed out.

“Cold, Damn I’m cold.” I shook my head as far as the collar would allow. This time I woke up much more quickly. The effects of the drug had almost complete gone now. I soon took stock of my situation. I was alone, naked, bound, gagged and had two enormous shafts forced and locked deep into my private holes with no way to remove them and no signs of any rescue.

I looked back and forth around the room as best I could.

My collar in combination with the elbow bondage prevented much movement in any direction. And for some reason I couldn’t get over the feeling of intense cold. It was the middle of July outside, why the hell was I so cold? I shivered from it. The cold seemed to be coming out of the floor. Like it was being conducted from the floor directly into my nipples which I could tell were almost painfully numb. The cold ran shivers up through my bare tits and into my entire body.

I focussed on the floor. Wait a minute, I thought. This wasn’t a wooden floor like I’d expected. This was metal, diamond plate metal. What the hell was going on here?”

A soft voice I didn’t recognise drifted into the room from somewhere distant. “Subject eight is progressing well, what about subject nine?”

“Subject nine continues to fight the conditioning, Mistress,” came the eager reply. “But subject eight is progressing far beyond our most optimistic predictions. She has embraced all the programming up to level five.”

“Level five?” the first voice queried, the disbelief very obvious in her tone. “Already? You’re quite sure this isn’t some kind of trick?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the subservient woman replied immediately. “She is almost ready to receive her first implants.”

A door I hadn’t noticed irised open, splitting the wall and revealing two mismatched figures. The taller of the pair, the one who had first spoken, was dark and exotic in the manner of a particularly beautiful scorpion. She was dressed in skin-tight latex, even her face half-masked with only a slash of pale skin visible framing the fullest, most kissable lips I think I’d ever seen.

It took a moment for me to recognise the other girl, but then my attention was almost entirely focussed on her Mistress. Clare paled in comparison, but she was still almost perfectly lickable in that open latex suit. From my position on the floor it seemed even more revealing than at the club and there really hadn’t been that much of it to start with.

“She’s awake,” the tall woman said with just a hint of surprise in her tone. “How interesting.” The next thing I knew, both of my plugs exploded into life, catching me completely by surprise. Everything from my waist down went sort of runny and hot, and my head was full of bright light, bright, white light and stars.

By the time I’d come back down to Earth, Clare was just tightening the last few straps. The girl was good, I mean really, really good. She’d left me with almost no movement whatsoever. But, even though I couldn’t look down, I could still feel something clinging to my body. A hood covered my head, sealing away my hair and leaving a gap for my eyes and nose. I clenched and unclenched my hands, but that seemed to be the only movement I was allowed.

The suit felt wet somehow, and my skin tingled beneath it. Then, Clare stepped so close I could feel the heat coming from her and unzipped me. Cool air teased my tits, instantly pulling my nipples erect. More air lapped around my pussy, but it wasn’t nearly cold enough to chill my steaming cunt.

I tried to speak, but all I managed was another “Mmmmmgfff!” Clare giggled at me, her small hands stroking over the exposed portions of my body as she completed her preparations.

“You’re so lucky,” she simpered patting my cunt gently and sending more sparks through my bound frame. “You’ll make such a nice robot, all metallic and mindless… won’t that be nice?” Of course that got my attention. After all, this was the whole reason I’d signed up in the first place, the admitted slim possibility that I’d encounter some brilliant but deranged scientist and end up in precisely this kind of situation.

My muffled moans were supposed to be encouraging, but Clare didn’t pick up on that at all. She was used to the gag-talk equivalent of “You’ll never get away with this,” rather than someone urging her to hurry up and get to the good stuff. Luckily for me, the ‘good stuff’ was just around the corner.

When the big mechanical arm started moving I was taken aback. It was one of those industrial models and, with it whistling around my privates, I momentarily forgot just how precise those things could be. Whirring and whining, the jaws closed around my nipple. There was a flash of bright light that was sharper than the cold sting of metal.

I screamed into the gag, cumming hard beneath the straps as the first piercing bit into my aching tit. Clare’s lips brushed the metal bud, stirring me from my post-orgasmic coma and I had just enough time to gasp before the second piercing sent me crashing back down into the warm wetness of a second, dizzying climax.

The machine dragged me back this time, clamping irresistibly around my clit and pinning it with mechanical precision. My orgasms ran together, icy sharpness burning my pussy and sending lightning shocks through my frame.

“And if you think that’s good,” Clare whispered into my pussy as my consciousness faded. “Just wait until Mistress connects you up to the mains!”

When I next came too I was back on the floor, although my body skin buzzed with the aftermath of Clare’s attention. My head felt muzzy and half asleep, presumably a result of whatever drugs they were feeding me. It was hard to separate what was real and what might be hallucination. Everything felt dreamlike, but the deep throb from my nipples was all too real. Slowly I leaned over, moving just a bit so I could look down at my chest.

I was still wearing the rubber suit, a rather fetching silver number that might just as well have been painted on. Then I caught sight of my nipples. They clearly weren’t going anywhere. I was shocked, but not really surprised by what I saw. After all, I had actually threatened to do the same thing to Mandy, though I hadn’t quite found the nerve to follow through with my threat.

There was a small chain threaded through both nipple rings which then ran to a small hoop set in the floor. There it was secured with another padlock. “These girls and their padlocks,” I thought. “They were obsessed with their padlocks.”

I could feel thoughts squirming around inside my head, but there was no fear associated with the sensation. Sorayama imagery flashed behind my eyes, while those twin tree trunks buzzed and rippled. In a brief lucid moment I recognised that they were trying to condition me and wanted to laugh at how redundant that was. If only they’d take off this damn gag then I could tell them just how much I wanted what they were offering.

That said, it was one hell of an erotic slide show and with a little wriggling, (which revealed that my newly acquired clit ring had also been chained), I found the perfect position to enjoy it fully. I’d like to say that my thoughts strayed to Mandy and that I was worried about my lover’s plight… but I’m not going to lie. Selfish little me was just having too much fun.

I’d been expecting Clare to come and collect me. She’d been visiting throughout my ‘contemplation’, tightening a knot here, loosening a strap there, pinching, tweaking and generally driving me batshit. But it wasn’t the evil pixie who stepping into my cell. It was Mistress.

My mind was still a little ‘all over the shop’ and could feel all sorts of associations and triggers snapping into place, but it wasn’t all mind games and applied psychology. She had power all of her own.

Mistress was warmth, she was comfort.

Mistress was pleasure… Mistress was… lets just leave it at that.

The leash was completely unnecessary. I was ready to follow this woman anywhere. But that didn’t stop it from being yet another powerful reminder. Tight, clinging latex, tight, muffling gag, tight, inescapable handcuffs… did I mention ‘tight’?

I whined my disappointment as Mistress began to ease me out of the restraints. I know that I groaned when the belt clicked open and my humming friends were slipped free. My body fought to hold on, gripping the slippery invaders as they popped loose.

Clare appeared to help carefully ease my folded legs into the waiting stirrups and I gave myself into her caring hands. My arms stretched up over my head, where they were soon comfortably locked in soft latex restraints. The horrible sense of emptiness lasted only seconds before the machine’s twin plugs plunged into me and I almost came.

Mistress helped me lean back into the head-cage’s welcoming embrace, immobilising me almost completely and I could feel Clare deftly tightening the straps around my knees and thighs. A sense of unreality had come over me and I felt myself drifting in the subtle warmth of their care.

Reality reached up to spank me when the first crocodile clip snapped shut around my clit. Once again, the gag proved its worth, stifling my profanities as I found myself cumming and screaming and wincing and cumming all at once.

There were two more clips… Mistress made sure I came down just long enough to register that particular fact and then she let the second one close around my nipple ring.

“Any last words?” Mistress whispered while gently unbuckling my gag and letting the torrent of saliva spill out over my latex-covered breasts. “Anything you’d like to record for the sake of posterity? The machine tends to alter the subject’s worldview just to make sure it fits their new reality.”

I tried to work my aching jaw, still shivering from the fire burning through my tits in deep between my swollen cuntlips. Mistress’ eyes glittered and all sorts of unfamiliar urges were stirring as her tongue brushed over darkly perfect lips.

“Okay,” I just about managed, my voice cracking with arousal. “Do it to me!”

A large motorised dildo swung into place in front of me, its rubber tip just nudging at my lips.

She smiled and the rest of my world disappeared. Electricity poured through my body, forcing my muscles into random dance. I bit down hard on the phallic probe and tasted something sweet and sharp. Mistress’ Cheshire Cat grin hung frozen in space, while a thick river of silver poured over me.

The orgasm engulfed me, swathing my body in burning chrome as the sweetness dripped and dribbled like hot wax. I was cumming, balanced on the cusp and basking in the afterglow, all at the same time. Strands of C30, C60 and C90 infused latex had already wound its way around and through my cellular structure. Now the metal piggybacked on those molecule-wide fibres, becoming a part of me, changing me, making me something better, something new and improved.

Nano-scale filigree poured down my back, wrapping my braid into a long, silver ponytail.

Weird, green hieroglyphs rained down, doing a unique Matrix shuffle for my eyes only. Machine code leaped along my newly enhanced nerve trunks and set up their cosy new home in my grey matter. Actually, I’ve got no clue what the difference between grey and white matter actually is, although, presumably its something entirely separate from dark matter.

Mistress’ program eased their way into my thoughts and took hold. I was a gleaming, mechanical toy, an obedient, chrome-plated fembot, a happily subservient, digital slave…

Lightning flared against my nipples and softly kissed my clit.

I was cumming harder than I had ever known, I was balanced on the knife edge between delight and agony… I was… Robotunit8