The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Author’s note. This novel is pure fantasy and if you can’t realize the difference between fantasy and real life seek psychological help. Don’t read further if you’re under age and be aware that this mind control story focuses on dominance, humiliation and submission: you can expect very little romance, if any.

Copyright © 2014 Submeat! (editing by Malos) Few rights reserved (this work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License).

Do you mind if I brain?

IX. Conclusion

For some days, I enjoy having sex and playing mind games with both Dorothy and Sarah: brain is our biggest, strongest, most creative and versatile sexual organ. Dorothy turns out to be a marvellous teacher, since, as usual, when she loves, she loves with all her heart. She gives herself wholly to the experience and her innate capacity for altruistic sex and love increases my fascination for her. Somehow, I’m learning something too, since altruistic sex and love enable people to deeply connect in ways that egocentric interaction does not. With unrivalled empathy and skills, Dorothy helps Sarah to understand the answers to her most gruelling life’s issues, teaching her the mind-expanding language of submission and training her in the best way to peaceful bliss. Gradually, Sarah aligns her life prospects with the evolutionary compass of uninhibited joy, pleasure magic, and animal sexual abandon.

Then, at no particular moment, while we are having dinner at her apartment, Sarah stops with the fork at inches from her mouth and her arm in mid-air. She stays frozen for a considerable period of time, staring at the meat impaled on the end of her fork. It’s not necessary for me to read her mind to know that probably she is catching sight of her naked lunch, that is, when you once for all realise what is on the end of the fork (or, as well, on the end of the novel).

She opens her mouth and closes it back for three times before resolving to talk. Finally she turns her head to her left, in the direction of Dorothy, who has served us dinner and is now smiling and standing at attention near the table, dressed in her crotch-less sexy French maid costume.

— “Dorothy...” — she says with a liquid voice, resembling water overflowing from an overfilled glass — “...Dorothy, I want to thank you with all my heart and soul. Your are a very gifted teacher, you’ve brought out the best in me and push me to free my own imagination in ways I would have never been able to do. You get me closer to... the ‘art’ and you’ve answered with... with facts to all the questions I had, even the hardest and weirdest ones.”

— “My dear, the answers concerning submission are all quite simple, really, and freely available for everyone” — replies my beloved slave with a warm and caring smile.

Sarah peeps at me, but I remain silent, mimicking a supreme interest for the food I have in my dish. So she turns again to Dorothy.

— “That... that may be truth, yet without your guidance, I wouldn’t have leapt and tumbled into a sense of freedom and choice formerly unknown to me. I opened my mind, body and heart to your healing energy. Like any great teacher you did not tell me the answers. Rather, you lovingly and with great care served... yes ‘served’ as my guide in submission, in the discovery of what already existed inside me.”

Unknowingly to both my slaves, they are corroborating my main principle about mind control: to tame a slave effectively and lastingly, don’t master her/him with iron fist, but simply motivate the slave to make the right choices by herself/himself.

— “I’m very happy I’ve been useful to you, Sarah” — Dorothy says with a broader smile.

— “Perhaps I don’t know you enough, but I can easily say that you have a great attitude to others. You do everything with real passion.”

— “Don’t make me blush, babe!” — Dorothy says, proudly winking at me.

— “I... I think I should thank you also factually, right now...”

And without adding another word, even if she surely isn’t a lesbian, Sarah leaves her chair at the dinner table and kneels in front of Dorothy, burying her face in her crotch. Her tongue is eager to talk for her, so that Sarah starts to gently stimulate the labia and, unfocusedly, the whole genital area of my beloved slave. With devotion, she moves her tongue non-stop, either slow and fast, either regular and erratic, using the tip and the blade, as well as her nose, to stroke Dorothy’s erogenous zones. In a while, my beloved slave begins to moan in ecstasy and arousal, and separates her legs sufficiently to open the vulva for Sarah to better reach her clit. Sarah goes on, shifting several times from inserting the tongue deep inside her teacher’s cunt to licking directly her very sensitive clitoris.

— “Yesss, like this... yeeeeessssh” — Dorothy moans getting so horny that her knees tremble and she sways a bit. To find support, she puts her hands on Sarah’s head and little by little she tightens her grip on her hair, starting to pull, push, and move Sarah’s head at her own will. Feeling her hair handled as the reins of a horse, Sarah relaxes neck muscles and surrenders to the powerful guide of Dorothy’s grip: she protrudes her tongue all the way out and stiffens it, to let Dorothy use her in any way she desires to better stimulate herself.

Thanks to the meaty consistence of the well lubricated mini-phallus mimicked by Sarah’s tongue, in half a minute, my beloved slave reaches a very intense climax.

I clap my hands, and slip into Sarah’s mind to whisper the truth to her subconscious.

I’m happy, I’m blissful happy now, at peace with myself and with the whole world

As the thought pops up in her head, she dreamily licks her lips savouring the taste of pleasure. I take the chance of the magic of the moment to evoke again Sarah’s inner voice.

From now on, I just have to listen to my heart and follow instructions. That’s all joyfulness asks

Of course, before long, we all move to the bedroom to engage ourselves in a very pleasant evening: I bet you can imagine by yourself what I mean.

A week later, I’m with Dorothy in the deluxe living room of her mansion.

— “What do you think of Sarah, my slave?”—I ask, en passant.

— “Can I speak freely, master?”

— “Of course.”

— “She’s a very sexy woman and a valuable slave.”

— “Eh, I already know it... yet my question was far more personal. Do you love her?”

She smiles amused.

— “Of course not! She’s a disciple... and a friend. A good friend, indeed” — she decides laughing.

— “Are you laughing at your master?!” — I ask her with a jokingly menacing tone.

— “I would never allow myself to make such a horrible thing” — she answers keeping the joke — “but sometimes you’re so... funny, master.”

— “Why that?”

— “Well, can’t you enter my mind and find out by yourself what are my feelings for her? I can’t keep any secrets from you, as everybody knows...”

— “Mmmm... I’m simply saving me the trouble to climb down the slippery convolutions of your brain, since I’m sure you would never lie to me.”

— “I see your point, but again, you’re a bit funny, master” — she confirms, smiling at me lovingly.

I kiss her and move on the conversation to talk about us.

— “Don’t you ask me if I love her or you?”

— “I’m an humble slave, I have no rights to enquire about my master’s feelings” — she says while her smile becomes fairly sharper, and then she adds — “moreover, sometimes I can read your mind too.”

— “And...”

— “And unlike recent past, the answer to this question is obvious to me, now.”

Is Dorothy becoming too confident, if not overconfident? Maybe... I think and rethink about it, while I embrace my beloved slave and a sense of uneasiness sends annoying shivers into my ego. Perhaps, I’ve to learn how to deal with a relationship which, although isn’t an equal partnership, goes far beyond the classical features of master-and-servant interaction. In the future, I will have to work on my brain concerning this particular issue, but at present the fact is that I’m not comfortable with sharing so freely my thoughts and feelings with a slave.

Hence, I enter into Dorothy’s brain through the back-door I built in her mind to have quick and undisturbed access on her higher functions.

— “I think you’re becoming too much confident about your importance, slave.”

— “Am I, master?” — she smiles as if she knows something I do not and she adds — “Well, perhaps it’s true, but maybe it’s not my fault since lately you’ve praised me so wholeheartedly that...”

I push the fembot play button in her subconscious and she suddenly falls silent. Her gaze goes blank and she stands motionless, looking straight ahead, her arms limp along her sides: in her mind, the only working neuronal networks are those related to basic vital functions.

— “Yes, you’re my beloved slave, but now you’re not supplied with suitably advanced programming, so you can’t even blush at the compliment” — I say, regaining my usual self-control — “and your micro-processors are powerful but inoperative as long as I will not switch you on.”

Verbalizing my power over her makes me feel better at once: Dorothy’s deep scanning of my behaviour, followed by her inevitable inferences about my feelings have triggered an apprehensive reaction in me, very similar, to be honest, to fear.

I enjoy her complete vulnerability as she stands frozen in display in the middle of the living room: daylight coming from the big windows behind her provides her blonde hair with golden shades and her petite but luscious body puts on show all the right curves. I unclasp her bra, remove it and fill my hands with her big and perfect breasts. Then after some licking of her nipples, I take a step backwards and briskly slap her left breast. She doesn’t make the slightest move continuing to stare intently at the empty space ahead.

I enter her mind and order: “download consciousness protocol and director module.”

A swirl of colours sparkles into Dorothy’s eyes and slowly it resolves in a series of mixed up numbers and hidden images, resembling Rorscharch blots. Her body stiffens, her muscular tone comes back and a sequence of trembles caused by automatic contraction of the muscles shakes her whole body.

— “Dorothy. Fembot. State. Of. awareness. Activation...” — she says in a cold and crackly monotone voice, adding after a while — “Natural. Mode. Set. Up.”

Her look becomes somewhat less glassy and she slowly turns her head to the left and to the right, going back to face me in the end.

— “Left. Breast. Burning. Normal. Or. Malfunction. Interrogative. Sentence.”

— “It’s normal, don’t worry, I’ve just slapped it.”

I enter her mind again and order: “director module voice control recognition.” The triggers I set up months ago during Dorothy’s brainwashing appear to work perfectly.

— “It’s. Normal. Don’t. Worry. Information. Acquired. By. Director. Module.” — she declares emotionless.

— “Fembot, state director module purpose.”

— “Director. Module. Purpose. Is. To. Guide. Movements. And. Actions. Of. Fembot. Body. And. Launch. Programs. Activating. Detailed. Guidelines. About. Computer-generated. Behavioural. Patterns. In. The. Fembot.”

I’m surely satisfied with the results of Dorothy’s conditioning, but at the same time the feeling I’m missing something is lurking in my brain like fire smouldering under the ashes. A fleeting shadow darkens my face and I can’t avoid to ask myself if this is what I really want as a mate for life: a soulless female automaton which surely can’t displease me or hurt my sentiments. I push aside both my dilemma and the desire to slap again Dorothy’s breasts.

Inside her mind, Dorothy’s thoughts are peaceful and relaxed fragments which can’t assemble emerging any distressing interpretation of reality or sad truth about human existence: a cat... a landscape... a house... an adverb... a footstep... two people... an apricot tree... a love... a bus stop... a rainy day... a delay... I drift away for a short time contemplating the idle wandering of thoughts and images inside Dorothy’s mind. When I come back to me, a dizzy smile is arching my lips and a mosquito has landed on her left shoulder and is eagerly sucking blood. I swat the insect with my hand and the only residual of life which stays visible is a tiny red drop stamped on Dorothy’s skin. While my brain continues to work by itself, I bide my time setting my attention on Dorothy again and testing her sense of self.

— “Dorothy, how do you feel?”

— “Fembot. Is. Not. Able. To. Process. The. Sense. Of. The. question.” — she answers in the usual monotone and syncopated voice.

— “Do you feel happy or at peace?”

— “Fembot. Doesn’t. Understand. The. Meaning. Of. Happy. Or. At peace.”

— “Do you know who you are?”

— “I’m. Fembot.”

— “No, that’s the right answer to the question: what you are?. But I’m asking you a different thing. Do you know who you are?”

— “I’m. Fembot.” — the mechanised voice says again.

— “Ok, keep your mouth half opened.”

With a snap of her jaw, she directly obeys and I decide that the unnatural expression of stupor on her face can be defined like ‘sexy’, in the end. My sexual drive, however, is rather dropping off due to the strange feeling of loss that is smouldering under the ashes: my initial idea to sit down on the couch and order the Fembot to mount and fuck me isn’t so appealing anymore. On the contrary, my brain is working on auto-pilot and I’m taking important decisions for the near future. When I walk to the couch, I don’t know yet what I’m going to do, but as I sit down on it, my awareness about the next moves is surfacing.

— “Dorothy-Fembot, come here.”

— “Command. Received.”

She stiffens up and twitches jerkily into a robotic strut, approaching me with her tits on display and a frozen face of dumb stupor. She stops in front of me and freeze again.

— “Bring me your iPhone.”

— “Command. Received.”

She obeys.

— “Aren’t you curious to know who I’m gonna call?”

— “Fembot. Doesn’t. Understand. The. Meaning. Of. Curious.” — she says and then resumes her dazed expression with blank stare and mouth half opened.

— “Somewhere inside your mind, I know Dorothy is curious. Unless her superior empathy and intelligence have again allowed her to foresee my actions and feelings” — I say sarcastically, repenting myself of my infantile statement immediately after.

It’s clear I’m making fun of her because I’m frightened. What a pathetic and ridiculous scene! An almost omnipotent mind controller is afraid of his docile and beloved slave. Yes, precisely: ‘beloved’, that’s the problem...

To relieve my tension I deal Sarah’s number.

— “Slave?”

— “Dorothy?” — asks warily the former stubborn policewoman, reading the name on her phone’s display screen.

— “No, it’s Jason.”

— “Master... are you and Dorothy coming to my apartment tonight.”

— “No we aren’t. In fact, I’m just calling to tell you that we have other plans for tonight.”

— “Oh...”

— “Perhaps I’ll call you next week.”

— “Master! Please, tell me... have this slave somehow displeased you or Dorothy?” — she asks with trembling voice.

— “No, you haven’t. Stay happy. Bye.”

— “Bye...” — she says sadly.

I take a deep breath.

— “Dorothy-Fembot, I think you can be far more useful if, instead of standing frozen in front of me, you walk to the back of the couch and massage my neck to release my tension.”

— “Command. Received.”

The brainwashed woman struts robotically round the couch and places her hands on my neck. I find them unpleasantly cold, but I get over it.

I enter her mind and order: “thai massage protocol download and activation.”

Immediately, her hands take life and work powerfully to loosen up the stiffness in my neck with expert manipulation.

Meanwhile, I’m already dialling Thomas number on the iPhone.

— “Thomas? It’s Jason speaking. How are you, dude?”

— “Jason! I was asking to myself where the hell have you gone!” — he answers jovially.

— “Oh, well, as usual I had many things to do, you know, work schedule, travels, family and so on. But what about you? Have you seen Sarah, recently?”

— “Just on the evening we went together to her apartment.”

— “When I left her apartment, that evening, you hadn’t come back yet from your little walk. Did you have a nice time with her, thereafter?”

— “Errr, so... ok, I think I can tell you. We... we had sex, but...”

— “But?”

— “It was wrong, everything was wrong. I’ve already suffered too much because of her, and undoubtedly she has already suffered too much because of me. Actually, as mates, we’re a complete failure, so no more heartaches neither for her nor me.”

— “I know, Thomas. Sarah told me about her faults. Believe me, she has changed, you have to give her a chance... I know you love her.”

— “Nonsense. People don’t change, they just learn to better dissimulate themselves.”

— “Don’t annoy me with philosophical crap... Sarah has understood her mistakes, she’s no more the selfish person you knew. She will be happy to be yours.”

— “I’m sorry Jason. I’m a person who doesn’t reiterate his errors.”

— “You will never imagine what she told me the last time! That you were her golden opportunity for a happy life and that unfortunately she lost it! She told me that if you come back to her, she would willingly became your compliant housekeeper who cooks, cleans and always smiles!”

— “No, Jason, don’t insist, please. You’re kind to lie to me yet you’re not a good liar! You’re a dear friend, but I know by myself how to live my life.”

I didn’t want to force him, but it seems I have no other choice.

— “Thomas Francis Reelson” — I say raising up my voice — “don’t be stupid and don’t get in my nerves! This evening you’ll go to Sarah’s apartment, tell her you still love her and have sex with her! Am I clear? And remember to slap her ass, now and then, just to make clear who is in command, ok?”

— “Y-yes, Jason... I... I will surely follow your advice.”

— “I’m sure you will: she is your ideal woman and you love her!”

A brief silence comes about, as Thomas settles down his emotions and concerns. Then he resumes talking with a quieter tone of voice.

— “Thank you, my friend. I hope your help will put me on the right track...”

— “I’m sure of it. Call me tomorrow to update me.”

— “I will, bye.”

And also this issue is managed, I say to myself. My neck is almost melting down for how much is relaxed by the massage of Fembot’s tireless and jerky fingers. I breath a sigh of relief and draw conclusions of my subliminal reasoning. I’m a mind controller, hence being controlled it’s a new and obviously disturbing experience for me. I mean, since love is a form of mind control, it’s inevitable that I’m having troubles handling a situation I’m not used to. At any rate, of course Dorothy isn’t responsible for my troubles and I would be stupid and dishonest to vent my anger on her. It’s not her fault if I’ve fallen in love with her, and all the good words I whispered into Sarah’s brain about her fear of losing control appear to apply also to me. Perhaps this new adventure I’m facing when I’m not so young any more can surely be disturbing, but also exciting. In point of fact, what does my love for Dorothy require from me? To abdicate a bit of control, to refund nature with a small amount of control, and nevertheless I will remain in charge of all the remainder. I can do it. I will do it.

— “Dorothy-Fembot, stop massaging my neck and come back in front of me.”

— “Command. Received.”

She obeys and freeze standing before me. I look at her blank face and conclude that, yes, it’s quite sexy, but it’s not Dorothy: I can’t lie to me, I’ve switched off her mind just a few minutes ago and I already miss her. I enter into Dorothy’s brain through the back-door in her mind and restore her normal brain functions. She blinks two times as her soulless gaze slowly regains focus. She closes her mouth and her whole body shakes in shivers for a while.

— “I’m c-cold as steel... master...”

I feel guilt.

— “Come here. I’ll warm you up” — I say as I embrace her.

— “What... what have you done to me, master? No... don’t tell me... I don’t want to know. I’ve learned my lesson. It’s very true that, as they say, you never end learning...”

— “What do you mean?” — I say barely following her line of reasoning.

She looks at me straight in the eyes and asks seriously, if not tense.

— “Do you love me, master? Please, tell me, do you love me?”

I see her point now: she’s pretending not to know the answer.

And here we are, at the end of the detailed report of my most recent erotic adventures. As you’ve learnt, I’m Jason Blunt, a middle aged man with mind control powers. Moreover, after reading this story, you’re aware that your brain is alive and constantly rewires itself to form new neural pathways, that is it can change a huge amount. You’re also aware, now, that as a consequence any pattern of behaviour, included sexuality, can widely change too and that when something or someone extraneous is often associated with sexual arousal it will tend to become part of it. You’re aware, finally, that even if my story evokes in you many mixed feelings, you’re definitely aroused by what you’re reading.

On the contrary, you’re not aware that I’m behind you right now, because I’ve entered your mind and selectively blocked up sensory information about your surroundings. It’s useless you turn your head around in search of me: your eyes can’t see me. To my delight in reprogramming human brain, we’re going to play exciting mind games. As you’re reading these last words, your imagination goes to the mind-blowing sex to come. Can’t you feel a strange tingling in your pussy and your nipples? Of course yes, and now we’re going to dream your bliss together. With my mental powers, I will send you to sleep and believe me, when you will wake up, my slave, you will never be yourself again.