The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Donna hated eye exams. She hated lenses, really. Her sister Tina had perfect vision, and her mother still wore glasses only to read, but Donna had worn lenses ever since seventh grade, when she was unable to read writing on the blackboard even when she sat on the front row. She would have lived with it, fuzzy vision and all, but that damn teacher had noticed and called Donna’s Mom. At first she had worn glasses, but in ninth grade her mother had allowed her to switch to contacts, thank God. Once she was out on her own and supporting herself, Donna was going to get laser surgery so she could have 20/20 vision. Unfortunately, she was still 18 and living with Mom, who was a single parent and very controlling. Maybe she could have that done next year, after she went off to college, if she could save the money..

For now, though, she needed new lenses. The world was definitely getting fuzzy around the edges again. Donna was going to go to the LensCrafters at the mall but she’d noticed a newspaper coupon for $40 eye exams from Dr. Francis Mesmer, optometrist. What a deal! So that was why she found herself at Dr. Mesmer’s little downtown office at 2 pm on a Saturday afternoon, waiting for her exam.

Donna was looking at a pamphlet explaining astigmatisms when she noticed some pimply geek on his way out looking her over. Oh well, such is life. She certainly didn’t encourage gawkers-not with comfortable slacks, a loose sweater, and tastefully spare makeup-but a 38D-24-36 figure with shapely legs and a round firm ass was hard to conceal with anything besides a burlap sack. Throw in lovely, thick brown hair, shining blue eyes, and a perfectly clear complexion, and she was, in point of fact, hot. Donna made few concessions to vanity other than her shoulder-length hair. Nature had given her great looks, and she was grateful, but she was just too sensible to spend much time primping and dressing up. She did not notice that the receptionist looked her over, too, and quietly said something over the intercom.

“Donna Martin”, said the receptionist, as Donna was trying to decide between a six-month old copy of Field and Stream and the Business section of yesterday’s newspaper. She took one look at the receptionist and sounded a mental note of disapproval. The girl behind the counter looked to be a few years older than Donna, but she was still a girl-tarted up to the nines, with frosted blond hair, too much makeup, and a uniform that was skintight and unbuttoned at least three buttons too far. Granted, she had great boobs, but the look was really inappropriate for office work. A little slutty, actually. Those boobs looked positively frantic to get out of the receptionist’s blouse.

“Yes, I have a 2:30 appointment for an eye exam?”

“Certainly. The doctor will see you in a moment. Please fill out this form.”

The girl behind the desk-Sandy, by the name tag-stood up to hand Donna the questionnaire, and Donna got to see that the rest of her outfit was as inappropriate as the blouse. That skirt was practically painted on, and if it was any higher she could get arrested. Donna wondered if the doctor made her dress like that.

A buzzer sounded at the desk. “The doctor will see you now.”

Dr. Mesmer was by no means impressive, Donna thought. He was 5′ 8″ or so, about two inches taller than she, and he was balding, with a moderate paunch and remarkably thick glasses of his own. He was pretty dumpy, really. Then she wondered why she even noticed. The doctor gave her the glaucoma test, and took a picture of her retinae, which left blue afterimages in her vision. Then he handed her a thin booklet. “This is a test to determine your color vision”, he said. “There are numbers hidden among the colored dots. If you have good red/green color vision, you’ll be able to pick the numbers out from the background.”

Donna frowned at this. “I thought that color blindness was one of those sex-linked things that only guys could get.”

The doctor was unfazed. “There are other forms of color blindness than the classic red/green deficiency that you learned about in biology class, which is a sex-linked disorder. It’s not terribly likely, but it’s worth checking out.”

Whatever. Donna knew she could see colors just fine, but it wouldn’t kill her to look at a few pictures. Besides, Dr. Mesmer had that classic doctor’s manner that made one want to do what he advised. “OK, I’ll take a look.”

They sure did look like the color-blindness illustrations in her biology textbook. Circles filled with pale red dots, with pale green dots inside forming numbers...4, 9, 12. Donna could see them all, as she knew she would. This was pretty silly.

Still, as she looked, she realized the numbers were intriguing in a way she couldn’t quite make out. Each dot was filled with colored wavy lines that made the whole illustration kind of dance and shimmer on the page. The weird shimmering drew her attention and held it. Dancing wavy lines. Dancing on the page.

Dr. Mesmer watched as Donna became enraptured by the illustrations. When she had been sitting there staring at the last one for ten minutes, without moving or even blinking, he knew that she was in a suggestible state and ready for the next stage of her very special eye exam. He made his equipment ready while she sat, lips slightly parted, staring fixedly at a red circle with a green number 3 inside. Now it was time to proceed.

“Donna.”

“Yes.” Her voice had lost the girlish chirpiness it had before, and was now calm and detached. She still did not move orblink.

“Donna, look at me.” She obeyed. Her gaze was vacant. “Donna, the next test is the peripheral vision test. You must focus on the center of the plain gray background. As you look, you will notice shapes blinking around the edges of the grayness. When you see them, you will press the button on this clicker that I have here. This will determine how well you can pick up objects on the outside of your field of vision.”

As he spoke, Donna seemed to become more aware of her surroundings. The glazed look went away and she blinked for the first time in twenty minutes. Her empty stare was replaced by a look of concern. Something had just happened. Looking at Dr. Mesmer, she felt odd. Well, not odd. Horny, really. Her crotch felt warm and she thought she was getting wet. Her hand involuntarily fluttered to her zipper before she came to her senses and grabbed it with her other hand. This was weird. The man talking to her was rather rumpled and would definitely benefit from more trips to the gym.but he was making her hot. Stop it, she thought to herself.

Dr. Mesmer took her by the hand, led her to the peripheral vision viewer, and sat her down in the chair. Normally Donna would not have offered a strange man her hand, but she didn’t mind with the doctor. She also didn’t mind when he copped a long, lingering feel of her ass as he sat her down in the chair. She knew she should mind, she knew she should slap him, but somehow it was OK.

She stared into the center of the viewer, clicker in hand. Shapes shimmered against the grayness, and she pressed the button. There, up top—click. In the corner-click. However, after a while, the whole gray field seemed to blink and oscillate. Waves came and went. Spirals swirled around the field. Curves and lines. Circles. Waves.

Donna fell back in the chair she was in. Her eyes were half open and her breath came in frantic gasps. As Dr. Mesmer watched, she ripped her sweater off, losing two buttons, and fondled her heavy round breasts. Not breasts. Tits. Her tits were so big, and suddenly her bra felt two sizes too small. They strained against the plain cotton fabric. Oh God, my nipples are so hard . with one hand she fondled her heaving breasts. With the other she probed between her legs, stroking her clit, bucking and moaning as waves of pleasure hit her. Oh , it felt so good. She was sweating freely now, legs spread apart, furiously rubbing herself, gasping, almost ready to come.

“Donna?”

The doctor’s voice brought her back to awareness. She was sprawled out on the chair, sweater hanging open, tits pointing skyward, legs spread open, one hand still inside her panties. Her body was soaked with sweat. The panties were soaked with something else.

A mental fog seemed to part within her, and she felt ashamed, and then she heard the voice of panic-oh my God I have to get out of here what’s happening to me-but she heard the steady beat of some strange Muzak on the intercom. She blinked, and settled back down in the chair. Her shame was replaced by shame for her failure to please Dr. Mesmer. She had been such a bad slave-what?, that inner voice said-pleasuring herself before fulfilling her Master’s needs. He was so good to her and so handsome, and the thought of his hard cock inside her set Donna on fire. She was out of her chair and sinking to her knees in front of him before the Doctor told her to stand.

“Good girl.” A smile flickered across her otherwise blank face. “Now we’re going to fit you for lenses. You will sit in the examining chair and look through the eyepiece, which will show you a line from the eyechart. I will show you two pairs of lenses at a time, and you’ll tell me which is better, one or two, OK?”

Donna, concentrating like a poor student in algebra class, nodded. “Yes Master.” She felt a little tingle of pleasure at that word.

“Good. First, though, we need to get you out of those clothes. That bra is way too tight for those beautiful tits of yours, you’re very sweaty, and oh my, your panties are soaking, aren’t they? Why don’t you take everything off?”

Her bra certainly did feel uncomfortable, and her panties were practically marinating. In short order her clothes were in a puddle on the floor. Her perfectly round tits hung free, the nipples pointed like lasers at Dr. Mesmer. Donna was playing with them when the doctor said affectionately, “Sit down in the examining chair, slut”, which made her smile again.

The chair was a little cold on her bare skin, but that was ok. The doctor flipped through lens pairs, and Donna called out “one” or “two”, but after a while she saw only flashing lights through the eyepiece. It was difficult to concentrate anyway, because she was so very horny. Her nipples were painfully erect, and her pussy was hot and wet and empty. She was rubbing her clit again, and she was going to come soon, but it wasn’t enough. She needed her Master, needed his tongue in her mouth, craved his big long thick cock filling her! She came with a shudder and turned to face her Master. First, she would suck him off.

She rose from the chair and took a step towards him before that voice inside her head screamed NO. Her head swam and she staggered. Somehow everything had changed. Dr. Mesmer looked short and dumpy again. The thumping Muzak beat sounded very strange. She looked down and saw her nakedness, and, with horror, a thin stream of juice trickling down one leg. She saw the impassive stare of Dr. Mesmer and knew she had to get out of there.

Donna stumbled naked to the door and was fumbling with the doorknob when the doctor stepped to her side and placed his left hand on the door. Donna trembled as they stared at each other. Within her, raging fear fought with her hunger for Master’s cock. She was disobedient, she was bad, she had not pleased him-no, open the door and run-and she knew she lacked the strength to challenge his will. She began to cry. Her lip trembled with the effort, but from somewhere deep inside she found the strength for one last plea: “Please. Please let me go.”

The doctor smiled indulgently. “I don’t think so, Donna.” She sobbed, and her hand fell from the doorknob. “Look at me, child. Turn to me and look me in the eyes.” As she turned to him, one tear fell from her cheek to the carpet.

“You see, my dear, you don’t want to leave. What would you do if you left? Where would you go? There is nothing out there for you. You have only one thing in your life: me. You have only one love: me. You have only one desire: to serve me. My thoughts are your thoughts. My will is your will. Donna doesn’t exist anymore, at least not as a separate being. You thrill at the sound of my voice. You are always horny for me. You are desperate to please me. You are my slave, Donna, in body and mind, and I am your Master.”

As he spoke, the tears on Donna’s face dried. Her hands hung limply at her sides. Her eyes were wide and fixed on him. Her breathing was deep and shallow. A thin stream of drool ran from the corner of her open mouth.

“You see, I learned a skill that would keep me in better comfort than optometry. Sandy was my first conquest. She was a law school student when she came into my office for a prescription one day. Now she works here for free during the day and earns me extra money as a stripper and prostitute after hours. When she isn’t whoring for me, she is cooking and cleaning for me, and she fucks me every night, because a good slave pleases her Master. Still, that’s a pretty busy schedule for one slave, so I thought I’d pick up a second to take the job here. Now Sandy can turn tricks and take her clothes off all day long, while you serve me at the office and at home.”

The voice inside Donna’s head still whispered in protest, but she did not listen. She was swimming in the black pools of her Master’s eyes. Besides, a good slave did not challenge her Master. Right now she wanted nothing more than to lie back and spread her legs for him, but he was talking, so she must listen. Then she would obey.

“After we’re done, Sandy’s going to take you shopping for slutty clothes. In a few days, you’re going to start working here. A little later, you’ll leave your mother’s house and move in with Sandy, so I can have both my slaves close at hand. Now, slut, on your back.”

Donna squealed with delight and hit the floor. Later, as Master pounded away inside her and she rode the tidal wave of a continuous orgasm, she consciously felt the last scraps of her old self disappear, like water boiling off a hot plate. She was a slut. She was a whore. She was a slave to her Master.

Afterwards, Sandy gave Donna a ride to the lingerie store. Donna listened contentedly to her aimless chatting as they drove. “You’re going to love the Master. He’s so good to me! Yesterday he brought a married couple over, and I fucked both of them. He told me that he’d use some of the money they gave him to buy me new clothes. Isn’t he a sweetheart?”

Donna’s mind wandered. She had an idea to please Master. Her sister was only eighteen months older, and she was quite lovely. Her mother, for that matter, was 40 but trim and able to pass for 10 years younger. Donna would talk them into coming in for eye exams. Master would be very proud of her.

It was a bright, sunny day.