The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Do you mind if I brain?

VIII. Sarah meets Dorothy

A woman comes up to me brandishing a sharp knife. Looking into her eyes, I don’t need to read her thoughts to know she’s going to murder me.

— “Please, s-stop... calm down...” — I stutter — “I’m just a fictional character for some twisted writer to vent his anger on... to make himself feel better about his own life!”

Unfortunately, my words don’t change her mind at all.

— “No, seriously” — she says pointing the knife to my chest — “Sarah had the right idea: she should have shot you, several times, just to make sure... and I will stuck this knife into your heart!”

She reminds me the face of Meredith, a companion at school who made ??fun of me all the time, when I was a child. Perhaps due to the infancy reverie, I start to cry with little boy voice.

— “Please, don’t stab me! You would only make a cut in a written sheet!”

She runs through my chest with her knife and I wake up screaming, drenched in cold sweat.

The bedroom is silent. Dorothy is sleeping curled up next to me.

It’s five o’clock in the morning and the dreadful feeling of being merely a paper puppet gradually vanishes.

I take the chance of the quiet nothing that fills up the room to mull over recent events and fix up my thoughts. Sarah is surely well advanced into her pathway towards complete submission, but my attraction for her has dropped off: my sudden heartbreak left a deep scar in me and I can’t wipe out of my mind the hatred and contempt for my person she put on show some days ago. I’ve fucked her hard, slapping her bare ass on the round table of her living room and, of course, she climaxed screaming thank you master, but despite my ability to stream into her thoughts a screen lasts between our souls. I turn my head to Dorothy who is calmly sleeping with a smile on her lips and I sense on my face her warm and natural steady breathing. Yes, sense... it’s gratifying when something makes sense so smoothly. I can’t lie to myself: somehow, Dorothy’s affection for me is sincere even if I built it up with my mind control abilities. Probably, she was naturally inclined to become a love slave, anyway it’s beyond doubt that when she looks at me I feel we are soul-mates who can feel each other without any barriers. On the other hand, devoid of romantic or classical sentimentality, love is a form of mind control exerted by nature on our brain, that is, we obey neural mechanisms set up by evolution to motivate sexual reproduction, a gainful process that creates a new organism by combining the genetic material of two organisms.

I remember a neuroscience book about sexual behaviour which broadened my views about humans. Romantic love is a brain system that evolved in avian and mammalian species: the sex drive evolved to motivate individuals to seek a range of mating partners, attraction evolved to motivate individuals to prefer and pursue specific partners, and attachment evolved to motivate individuals to remain together long enough to complete species-specific parenting duties. As a result, romantic love behaviours appear to be based on brain networks that interacts in specific ways to mind control us, orchestrating reproduction by both hormones and monoamines. Specifically, that is to say we are programmed to focus our courtship energy on specific others, thereby facilitating mate choice and conserving valuable time and metabolic energy. I fondle Dorothy’s hair and step by step I become aware I’ve made my choice.

When the radio-alarm wakes us up at 8:00 am I embrace her and enlighten my slave about upcoming events as I’ve planned them during my overnight meditation.

— “We have to pay a visit to Sarah. I want you to talk with her” — I whisper to Dorothy’s ear and brain — “I want you to help her to realize the bliss she’s missing if she continues to fight the idea of being a slave.”

— “I’ll do anything for my master” — she says kneeling on the bed — “...but... if I may ask... does my master prefer her to me?”

Her eyes stares at me with watery hope and her voice is an enchanting mix of subservience and concern. I really don’t know how I could have thought, even just for a second, to abandon her. She’s the most adorable pet I ever had and I’m falling in love with her, indeed.

— “Don’t worry my pet: your master have realized who is the slave he loves most in the whole world, and that slave is you, my dear” — I say meaning it with such fervour without even understanding it.

She smiles and I smile back, for a while. Then a passionate kiss certifies the development in our relationship.

Some hours later, after a mind-numbing sex-marathon, I set my plan in motion and we leave Dorothy’s house to reach Sarah’s apartment.

— “Open Sarah, it’s me, Jason” — I say in the video entry-phone.

— “Oh... Jason, ok, but, you’re not alone... I...” — she says perplexed, seeing another woman in the screen.

— “Open, Sarah” — I repeat sternly.

The gate opens and we enter the building.

When we get into Sarah’s apartment, I make presentations.

— “Sarah, this is Dorothy. Dorothy this is Sarah.”

— “What... what does this means, Jason?” — Sarah asks.

— “Dorothy is here to help you.”

— “I really don’t understand how she can help me...” — Sarah replies with chilliness, due to both superiority and jealousy.

— “Of course you don’t understand: you’re not wise enough” — I cut her words — “in fact nobody wants you and as a consequence you’re still single, unhappy and grieving. Take a look at yourself, you dull-witted being.”

Hit hard by my words, in the blink of an eye Sarah bursts into tears covering her face with her hands. Taking advantage of her turmoil, I dive deeply into her brain, short circuit the corpus callosum to impair communication between the two hemispheres and enhance right brain output so that she would be induced to speak freely and tell the truth. Dorothy makes a step forward and put a hand on her shoulder: near the Amazon princess, she seems even more petit than she is.

— “Hey, don’t cry, we’re here to help you” — she says with an almost maternal and reassuring voice.

— “Ok, let’s sit down in the living room and relax a bit talking about a few things.”

I move promptly to the next room while the two women trotted behind me.

I park myself on a couch and gesture at Sarah to sit down on the couch in front of me. Without need to specifically command her, Dorothy kneeled down at my feet. At bird’s eye, I review Sarah’s recent memories to test her disposition to talk sincerely.

— “Did you see Thomas, recently?” — I ask Sarah.

— “Yes I did” — she answer with embarrassment — “He came to my apartment yesterday evening.”

— “Interesting. So, did you have sex with him?” — I ask her again, well knowing the answer.

She turns red and hesitates, but in the end she admits her sexual rendezvous.

— “Yes, I... we did.”

— “Please, tell us in more details, I do believe you enjoyed yourself.”

— “I’m sorry Jason, I didn’t want to cheat on you, I’m ashamed of myself...”

— “Well, you should be ashamed of your previous life, but when a stupid and worthless being like you realizes her purpose in life and eventually becomes useful, well, you must be proud of yourself!”

She looks at me confused.

— “You’re... you’re not angry with me?”

— “Dorothy?” — I say to solicit her contribute.

— “Of course he’s not. He doesn’t want you to be sad, he wants you to be happy and fulfilled. But don’t be so hoarding... master has asked you to give him some more details about yesterday night: share your enjoyment with us.”

— “Well... Thomas was so kind with me that I decided to suck his cock” — she says covering her mouth with her hands — “why... why I’m telling you this?? I’m ashamed as hell...”

— “Dorothy?”

— “Why are you ashamed?!? Sucking master’s cock is one of our most important and fulfilling duties!”

Immediately, I reverberate Dorothy’s last words into Sarah’s mind: We are slaves, and sucking master’s cock is one of our most important and fulfilling duties!

Sarah is blushing, red as a tomato. I pat Dorothy’s head and state my approval for her words.

— “Good girl. You’re my truly beloved slave. Disrobe: I want you naked but the pantyhose.”

— “Yes master” — she answers with a broad smile and an uniquely submissive disposition.

— “Sarah, would you please tell us what happened after the blowjob?”

— “We... we had sex.”

— “And you reached orgasm?”

She looks down and twists nervously both her hands and fingers.

— “I... I did.”

— “Marvellous! Can’t you see you’re healing from your overstress syndrome! You climaxed without my help! And how did it happen?” — I ask, although, again, well knowing the answer.

— “I... he... he was fucking me from behind and I asked him t-to spank me and to f-fuck me harder and... oh my... I don’t want to tell you but... what’s happening to me?? It seems my head is a colander and... words seep out all by themselves!”

— “I knew a monk who used to say: relax and let go into realizing that you are not in control and you never have been, really. And...” — I leave the phrase unfinished, passing to whisper into her mind the rest of it, forcing her right brain to repeat it.

And... the most amazing thing is that it’s so sweet when I do let go: no worries, no strain, no disappointments, no need to argue...

— “And the most amazing thing” — she echoes with a dreamy stare — “is that it is so sweet when I do let go: no worries, no strain, no disappointments, no need to argue...”

I must attain the most passive or receptive state of mind possible, forget my failings, my lack of talents and accept I have no control over both my life and my body.

— “I must attain the most passive or receptive state of mind possible” — she chants along — “forget my failings, my lack of talents and accept I have no control over both my life and my body.”

My body it’s really not mine, it’s the body of a slave. A slave to nature, to love, to lust, to life and to anyone who can make me feel useful

— “My body it’s really not mine, it’s the body of a slave” — she goes on — “a slave to nature, to love, to lust, to life and to anyone who can make me feel useful.”

— “So? Wasn’t it easy?” — I say smiling, while I idly fondle Dorothy’s breasts.

— “Why... why am I saying such strange things? It seems my mouth is the speaker of hi-fi system transmitting words from... alien life forms!”

— “...or from the Holy spirit” — Dorothy suggests.

— “...of from your subconscious mind” — I insinuate.

— “I’m going mad. I’m changing. In the last days, disturbing reminiscences are continuously resurfacing from my infancy: I remember my mother mistreating and humiliating me... buried inside my head there are lots of traumatic memories that I had probably removed as unacceptable and anguishing thoughts. And now they’re coming back and...”

— “And...” — I force her.

— “And this affects me in a crushing way... my spirit is broken, my bravery is gone... probably you can punch me in the nose and I will not react nor kick your ass. My anger doesn’t burst out, it... it bounces back to me, I internalize it and it becomes anger w-with myself for not being good enough to earn respect and love...”

— “What a brilliant auto-analysis. You’re not completely stupid, in the end.”

— “Thank you, Jas... fuck... have you heard it? I’m thanking you for saying I’m not completely stupid!! I’m soft as a rag doll waiting to be acted upon by external forces.”

And of course — I whisper into her mind — external forces can’t be balanced by my inner individual force: I’m sooo weak...

— “And...” — I say to force her again.

— “And of course” — she repeats — “external forces can’t be balanced by my inner individual force: I’m sooooo weak...”

— “External forces?! You speak as if someone is controlling you. Are you trying to convince yourself again that I have mind control powers” — I say laughing out loud.

No, of course, silly me...”

— “No... n-no of course, silly me” — echoes her obedient mouth.

— “In fact, the voices are coming out from the depth of your mind, from your remote past. I wasn’t there when your mother mortified you, was I?”

— “No, of course you weren’t there.”

— “So, obviously, I can’t be the cause of your turmoil. Dorothy, what about you? Do you think I’m mind controlling you?”

I tickle her brain and she answers, laughing out loud too.

— “Of course not, master, eh. It’s only natural that this inferior slave submits to your superior guidance. I just follow my inborn instincts and I’m happy with it.”

— “Good slave. Now I think it would be nice of you to tutor Sarah in her pathway to complete submission. For example, you could show her how to worship master’s feet.”

— “With great pleasure, master” — she answers enthusiastically.

— “So, go down, take off my shoes an lick my sweaty feet clean.”

— “At once, master.”

Sarah nervously changes position on her couch while Dorothy merrily obeys my commands.

— “Look at her Sarah, look at Dorothy naked on her knees, ready to worship my feet. Can’t you see how happy she is to be useful and to serve me, her master, in any way I desire?”

Dorothy pulls the socks off my feet and begins to kiss with rapture the tips of my toes, staring up at me. Sarah is visibly disgusted and her empathic distress for how Dorothy’s debasing herself is quite evident.

I decide that the show can surely be more plausible and captivating if I speak through Dorothy’s mouth.

Sarah is now thinking ‘poor woman’ referring to you — I telepathically inform Dorothy — would you please explain her who is the poor one?

Dorothy smiles, gives a long, sensual licking to the salty surface of my right foot and then turns in the direction of Sarah.

— “Maybe you’re so silly and short-sighted to think ‘poor woman’ referring to me” — Dorothy says — “but I beg to differ, Sarah... look at the bliss in my eyes, look at my happy face: I’m in peace with myself and this is all I’ve ever wanted, this is what I was made for. Unfortunately, you can’t see your own face, right now, otherwise you would give a wiser rating to yours and mine situation.”

She pauses, licks again my feet and in a while she resumes talking.

— “But you’ve got a chance, Sarah: I can help you! Now, you can’t see your own face but I can see you and your face very clearly... and do you know what I see?”

— “N-no... I don’t know.”

— “I see a very but very poor woman: you are the poor one, baby, not me, and that’s for sure. Your face is distorted in anguish. You’re unhappy, you’re so stupid to fight against your destiny, to restrain your natural instincts. You’re a poor woman who is condemning herself to eternal grief and frustration.”

I smile with satisfaction and I reward Dorothy with a wave of sexual pleasure. She moans, feeling hotter by the second. Sarah is stunned, unable to disagree with the line of reasoning of my beloved slave.

— “So, Sarah, can’t you see Dorothy is getting horny?” — I ask her.

— “Well, yes of c-course I see...”

— “Thank God! Eh, eh, if you couldn’t see it...” — adds Dorothy between moans — “I would deduce you are definitely hopeless, my dear!”

Dorothy and I laugh with complicity, looking at each other’s eyes, in a self-exciting, self-aware manner. Finding one another, recognising to be similar, generates a crescendo of excitement between us which deliberately and painfully excluded Sarah.

— “Forget her, she’s not worth it” — I say to Dorothy, fondling her naked body.

Our complicity increases together with provocative behaviours. We blatantly start to act sexually as if we are alone in the living room, displaying the bliss which is precluded to Sarah. Dorothy go on licking my left foot in a eye-catching sensual manner and I push my right foot between her legs to tickle her clit. She drops her pantyhose and panties to mid-tight, starts to sway her pelvis to play with my foot, and after a while she’s so wet that she’s actually fucking my big toe. Sarah is suffering in her couch, hurt by both turmoil and our lack of consideration.

Make her join us, she’s ready I murmur into Dorothy’s mind.

With a remarkable dose of self-control, Dorothy dismounted my left foot and turn to Sarah.

— “Sarahhhh” — she groans with her face flushed with horniness — “poor Sarahhh, you useless woman, it would be nice to let go and feel free, wouldn’t it?”

— “I... I...” — sputters the almost panicky Amazon.

— “Master is sick of you, and I have to admit you’re very annoying with your snivelling attitude, but... I’d like to make one last attempt, master, can I?”

— “Nonsense, slave. As you can see, Sarah is a hopeless case.”

— “But... pleeeese, master, give her one last chance. Perhaps in the very last moment she will see the light! She only has to parrot me, after all. Do as I do, Sarah!”

— “No, Dorothy” — I say with firm voice — “it’s not useful to parrot anyone to empathize with your real and improved self. She needs to interact honestly and authentically with her inner voice and act as herself. When I talk to her, I don’t want to talk to a mirror or to a soulless puppet.”

Sarah is on the verge of tears and she’s twisting her fingers ever so nervously: she is running the risk of being rejected once for all and the sense of abandon crushes her soul like a grape. I take my time savouring Sarah’s cocky attitude changing to fear. Then I set in motion my beloved slave again.

— “Master, I’ve got an idea!” — Dorothy says thanks to my mental suggestion — “Sarah could go down on her knees and lick your feet to attempt to overcome her deadlock. If she will find her submission pleasurable I think we still has some hope, if she will find her submission unattractive or unpleasant, we can always... abandon her on the highway thereafter!”

Dorothy barks and smiles wickedly at her joke.

— “Mmm...” — I say as if evaluating Dorothy’s proposal.

— “Sarah, give it a try!” — Dorothy emphasizes while lazily fingering herself

— “submission is so arousing and erotic! Put your dreams into action. Don’t miss your last chance to join us in heaven, or you’ll regret it forever!”

— “Ok Sarah” — I say pompously — “You should thank Dorothy: I want to give you this last chance. Kiss my feet and prove you can be a useful and happy slave.”

Sarah is almost capitulating to our combined psychological assault. I could push her beyond the threshold with my mind control powers, but it’s necessary that she chooses by herself for a stable restructuring in her beliefs: I will not be always there to help her and she has to walk with her legs, or better, on her knees.

— “It’s so logical” — Dorothy resumes — “you can’t know if you like it if you don’t try it.”

Sarah gives out a mouthful of air and then tries to reconsider the situation.

— “Ok... everything seems both logic, but also illogic... my mind is a complete mess and... perhaps it’s time that I clear my mind by... doing something concrete.”

— “Say it with proper words, Sarah, it will help you” — says Dorothy — “that is, I clear my mind by going down on my knees to worship master’s feet.”

In Dorothy’s heavenly tone of voice, every word assumes a pleasurable sound.

— “Yes, thanks Dorothy... I’m going down on my knees to worship master’s feet.”

— “Yeah, good girl!” — I scream excitedly with a reassuring smile.

— “That’s great, Sarah! I know you were worth of this last try! Go on!” — Dorothy cheers on.

Sarah stands up from her couch, sways a little and then makes two steps forward, slowly kneeling in front of me.

— “See? It’s easier than what you’ve thought!” — Dorothy asserts.

My beloved slave moves to a side and Sarah has all the stage for her. She looks up to me and down to my feet several times, then she bends forward gradually in the direction of the floor. Half way down, she’s close enough to smell my feet.

— “Stop right there, slave” — I say with a commanding tone — “Stay on your knees, look at my feet and tell me how do you feel. I want you to tell me the naked truth.”

Thanks to my previous work on her limbic system, the whiff of my feet hit her olfactory bulb and then spring directly into her ancient reptilian brain pumping up her libido. In the meantime, her growing arousal turns on her memories of male feet that I wired with pleasure centers inside her mind in the first days of her conditioning. And, as usual, neurons which fire together wire together...

— “Oh... oh m-my God! That’s incredible...”

— “What’s incredible, Sarah?”

— “I can’t believe it...”

— “Don’t reject the evidence, my slave.”

— “I... I’m really getting aroused by... this!”

— “I knew it! I knew it!” — Dorothy squeals happily like a child — “You’re realizing it: submission is heaven! You can’t deny it, you’re getting horny.”

— “Yes... I’m getting horny.”

— “Say it out loud Sarah” — I command — “Say that you’re getting horny because you’re a slave who is waiting to worship her master’s feet!”

Sarah’s brain is restructuring in an excited sensory manner, chaotic and total, providing pure sexual energy that is exploding like fireworks throughout her mind. A sort of big bang of awareness which is spreading out of control and with no limits.

— “Y-yes! Yes! Yeeees!! Submission makes me horny... and I’m g-getting horny because I’m a... s-slave. I’m a slave! A horny slave who is waiting to worship master’s feet!”

— “Very good slave. Feel the bliss of complete submission. Are you ready to accept it?”

— “I... I accept everything.”

— “Lick my feet, slave!”

Sarah’s tongue darts out of her mouth and she starts to worship my feet ever so fervently.

— “Good slave, lick and smell my feet!”

I enter her mind to set up the right soundtrack of her submission.

I’m a slave, I’m a slave, I’m a slave, I’m a slave, I’m a slave...

Gradually, Sarah’s eyes become glassy, depicting a blank stare of bliss on her face, as if she’s running through a sort of hypnotic trance.

— “Look at her, Dorothy, isn’t she a lovely licking machine?”

— “Ohhh yes, master, she’s completely and wholeheartedly inebriated by both your feet and her submission!”

— “Who are you?” — I ask Sarah.

— “I’m a slavuue” — she answers continuing to lick.

— “What’s your name?”

— “I’m auuu slave...”

— “What do you think about being owned and used?”

— “I’m a sluuuave...”

— “How much is four times six?”

— “I’uum a sluuave...”

I push her away with my left foot and stand up from the couch. Sarah remains on all fours, visibly stunned: her breathing is hot and heavy due to arousal, her mouth is slightly opened and a glistening of drool is running out from the corner of her mouth to her chin.

— “On your feet, slave” — I command her while I give her a slap on her ass to exhort her to stand up, but her sexual tension is so high that a single smack is enough to trigger her orgasm. She moans wildly and I laugh with surprise at her powerful and unexpected reaction.

— “On your feet, slave, hurry up! And who the hell does give you permission to climax?”

She babbles nonsense, unable to articulate intelligible words, then, after a while, she tries to stand up for three times, falling back on the floor. At the fourth attempt, she succeeds in maintaining balance.

— “S-sorry mashteer... it... it overwhelmed meeee.”

— “You’re just a bitch in heat, aren’t you?”

— “Yesss masterrr.”

— “So I wonder why a bitch is wearing clothes... undress immediately, slave! I want you completely naked!”

She quickly takes off her clothes, her hands trembling as a consequence of post-orgasmic haze. Then she stands at attention in front of me. I walk in circles around her, as if inspecting her naked body.

— “Very good, slave. But now... I wonder why a bitch is standing on two feet: go down immediately on all fours!” — I command slapping her bare ass. Sarah’s knees turn into jelly due to the orgasmic pleasure and she falls to the floor moaning madly again.

— “Wow! She’s really dynamite, master” — Dorothy says, astonished by Sarah’s explosive and multiple climaxing.

— “Well, she can’t be anything else, since she’s a bitch in heat!”

I’m a bitch in heat — I chant in Sarah’s brain, eliciting a new mantra — I’m a bitch in heat, I’m a bitch in heat, I’m a bitch in heat, I’m a bitch in heat...

— “You both, walk around in the living room on all fours” — I command while sitting down again and relaxing on the couch.

My slaves diligently obey and I reward them both by stimulating their pleasure pathways up to the verge of orgasm. I start to fondle my cock, already rock hard for the erotic parade of the two women.

— “Bitch in heat, I want you to check for me if the Dorothy-bitch is horny too. Put your nose in her ass and tell me how strong is the smell of her arousal.”

Sarah’s brain is on auto-pilot: her glassy eyes lack of any human thoughts as if she’s really become a bitch in heart and soul. Animal instincts kick in and she pushes her nose with lust in the crack between Dorothy’s ass cheeks.