The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Looking back on it now, I cam see clearly that it was all part of a Master plan. I don’t know where the idea first came from, but it simply reeked of divine inspiration. Several years ago, I had decided to study electronics and computer programming abroad, in Japan, where all the best technology was coming from. The culture there was so different from that of the US, yet I found myself more at home over THERE than I had ever felt here. I suppose the biggest thing was the social bias. Despite the move to more western outlooks, Japan is still, traditionally, a ‘Man’s World.’ Women there defer to the men, treating them with much respect, and honor, placing their own interest and desires secondary. Fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins, best friends, boyfriends, even complete strangers—women, as a whole, deferred to the men.

Back home, it was a very different story. The Western view was that women were equal to men in all things, and in many things, superior. These days, a woman could do anything she wished, from police work, to heavy construction, to active military service. Equal pay? Getting there. Equal recognition? Damn straight, and don’t you forget it! Equal treatment? Hell, most were treated even BETTER than the men. And with the all too frequent threat of sexual harassment in the workplace, women could have the men literally jumping through hoops to keep them happy, and keep from losing their own jobs. It had become a widespread joke that if it weren’t for continuing he human race through procreation, women wouldn’t need men at all, and that the women were busy working on that one too!

But, of course, I have digressed. Better get back on track here.

My chosen field of study was electronics, and computer programming, but what my heart truly yearned for, what I wanted to do with my life, was create video games. A long time ago, still a kid myself, I had come across a strange machine, with a picture of a giant ape grabbing a woman, and being chased by, of all things, a plumber. Yes, you guessed it: Donkey Kong. A simple concept, rescue the girl from the beast, by overcoming obstacles and using skill, strategy, and smarts to win. Just when you think it is over, the beast returns and snatches her again, the game restarts, and the challenges increase. I fell head over heels in love with it, and with all the other arcade games that followed. I remember thinking to myself, even then, how cool it would be to be able to make my own game like that someday, a really challenging game, but fun enough that EVERYONE would want to play it.

Flash forward to the present. About twenty years later, and I am working here in Japan with one of the largest video game outfits in the business. Nin... well you know who they are. (GRIN) Our competition was working on their next big system upgrade, and with ours still a few months in preparation, we needed something new and fresh to keep the edge, to stay on top. We had done remarkably well with out last system upgrade, our 18-bit system. My main project, however, was to revamp the OTHER system, our handheld portable toy, and come up with some new flashy program to send sales skyrocketing.

“Yeah, why don’t they just ask me to crap solid gold out of my arse,” I murmured softly, walking into my apartment. My housekeeper, Mrs. Manoi, greeted me as usual, leading me to the futon where I usually lounged after a hard day’s work. Sensing my problems, she brought me a glass of beer, a carry over from the West—nothing to relax a man after work like a good cold brewsky, I always say. “Thank you, Mrs. Manoi,” I said wearily, tossing it back.

“Is no problem,” she said softly. I resisted the urge to chuckle. My expressions were starting to rub off on her. “Sounds like you have another bad day at work, hai?”

“Another bad day, hai,” I agreed sullenly. “They expect me to single-handedly come up with an idea, a new game, to keep things afloat until the unveiling of the new system six months from now. They expect miracles. How should I know what little kids want to play these days, I’m thirty-four years old!” I sighed wearily. “Mrs. Manoi, you have kids. What do YOUR kids like as toys these days? What do they like to play for fun?”

She placed my slippers on my feet then thought for a moment. “Hmmm. As last I recall oldest son was much taken with trading card game. ‘All kids at school play’, says he. ‘I need money to buy more cards’, says he. ‘Got to get them all,’ says he. Strange. When I was young girl, we played with dolls. Pretty porcelain dolls, with...” I had stopped listening to Mrs. Manoi after the words, ‘Got to get then all.’ I had heard that Tan was into this card game and had bought my housekeeper’s son a pack of the cards for his birthday, but I had never really paid much attention to it. For some strange reason, the wheels in my mind started turning. A card game, on video. Why not? The standard card games of Blackjack, Poker, and Solitaire had been on video for years, and they were still as popular as ever. Why not a NEW, unique card game? Why not?

Soon after that, I paid young Tan a visit. He and his friends thought it strange that I wished to spend time hanging out with them, but when I pulled out several packets of the cards, I was quickly accepted into the group. It took several hours, and many pages of notes, but I finally got the gist of the game. Thanking the boys, I ran back to my office, eager to begin work. A week later, two graphic artists, the senior programmer, and myself met with the department head. When I explained the idea, at first he looked at me as if I was crazy. “I don’t see it,” he said shaking his head. “Explain it to me. In detail.” Famous last words.

An hour later, we were still going at it. “Okay,” he said, stroking his chin. “The object is to travel the world and collect these cards and fight them against one another.”

I shook my head. “No, not the cards, the creatures. The main character goes around collecting the little Monsters, not cards. The cards we have here just represent the monsters the character will be trying to collect.”

“Very well. So they collect MONSTERS from around the world. And they train them to battle each other, to see who is the strongest. Why? What is the prize?”

I was ready for that one. “To become the Champion. A Master of the game. And the way I have imagined it, it would be an adventure type game, where you fight and perform tasks to complete the game, but with an extra side bonus added in. A memory chip to store all the captured beasts, and let them link two consoles together and have two people battle their Monsters against each other instead of just the computer.” I sat back in my seat, feeling confident. “So, boss, what do you think?”

He was ignoring me, looking at the cards I had purchased, and the rules of battle I had learned from the kids. He frowned. “Okay, sounds fine to me... but tell me again, why this one” pointing to a giant rock with arms and a face, “gets beaten by this one,” he said pointing to a small turtle standing upright on two legs. I sighed deeply, and began again.

Six weeks later we had a trial version ready to sample. As the head programmer on the project, I was reviewing the program, checking it for bugs. It was so big that we had to split the game in two, a ‘Red’ version, and a ‘Blue’ version. Our legal department had acquired all the rights on the card game, and our creative guys came up with a whole fantasy storyline to go with it. There was even talk of creating a cartoon based on the game we were making... providing that everything went as well as we projected. Clean-up was a lonely, boring, and tiring job. After everyone had gone home for the night, I was still in my office, reviewing lines of programming text, and checking the result, all line by line. Somewhere along the way I had drifted off to sleep, where I had a strange dream. Huh. Strange? No, the word doesn’t even begin to describe it...

The product had been a success! I was back in America, having earned a place in the company’s US branch. I walked into my old New York apartment to find it an exact replica of my Japanese apartment. I glanced around, and Miss Manoi walked out, handing me my usual bear. “Hard day at the office, sweetie?” she asked, leading me over to the couch. “Here, sit down and relax, and let me pamper you.” I blinked, nearly choking on my beer.

“Miss Manoi? What are you doing here? Hell, what are you doing period?” I said, stopping her hands from pulling my zipper any further down. Looking up at her again, I suddenly realized she was completely naked. And man, what a body!

“Oh, I very sorry, Mr. Johnson,” she said meekly, head down. “Was wrong of me to try take advantage of you. I should have asked first.” She walked back over to me, letting her shapely hips twitch with each bewitching step. She put her pinkie in her mouth and bit it lightly, giving me a steamy, sexy, smile. “Please, sir,” she said in a breathy, withery voice, “can you please FUCK me now?”

“B-b-b-but you’re married!” I tried to protest, feeling my resolve weakening. “What about your husband? What about your kids?”

“Husband? Kids? What are you talking about, Roger?” With a gasp I saw that Mrs. Manoi had changed into my ex-girlfriend, Stacy. The one that had broken up with me, claiming she needed more ‘independence’ in a relationship, more than I was giving her. Her way of saying she wanted to sleep around yet keep me a one-woman man, devoted to her. The one that I later found had gone lesbian, and had moved in with my best female friend from high school, Janet. The reason I had left the States to study abroad in the first place. “So, like are we gonna fuck or what?” Stacy said, icily, standing completely naked, with her hands at her hips. I suddenly found myself wishing Mrs. Manoi would return.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Mrs. Manoi said sweetly, walking out of the kitchen to stand beside Stacy. At which time I figured out that this simply HAD to be a dream.

Oh well. As long as I am here... Without further qualms, I proceeded to fuck both women senseless, leaving them both panting and gasping in pleasure... but strangely, leaving me energized, and ready for me. I turned to Stacy, but she backed away, panting, sweat soaked. “Please,” she said wearily. “No more. I’m too weak right now. I need to recover.” Without wondering why, I reached down at my discarded pants, took out a small round ball, and threw it at her. It hit her square in the head, opened up, and sucked her in. I watched, eyes wide, as the small red and white ball bounced and twirled, then finally lay still. Shrugging, I picked it up and placed it back in my pocket. I glanced at Mrs. Manoi, and threw a ball at her as well. She, too, was absorbed.

“Well done,” a masculine voice said behind me. Turning around I saw the pixilated visage of myself created in the game. “Nice job, Roger. You caught two of them right off the bat.”

“Professor?” I asked, confused again. “What are YOU doing here?”

“I’m here to help you, my boy,” he said kindly. “You handled those two very well, but you can’t literally fuck every woman you meet into submission... at least not right away. Remember the Rules, boy! The Rules!” Oh. Of course, the rules. What had I been thinking? “What’s the first rule?”

“Um... you have to... weaken the prey before you can capture it?”

“Righto! You have to break down their defenses. Only when you have them weak as Mrs. Manoi and your friend Stacy, can you truly capture them. To do THAT, you’ll need... THIS.” He handed me what appeared to be a game cartridge, with a little skull on it. “There. That’s guaranteed to chip away at your prey’s defenses, and work constantly on them until they can be captured. The trick will be knowing when they are ready. You can’t expect it to work the same way and the same time on two different folks. Its a GAME, after all. Its a challenge. You have to use your skill and intelligence to make it work for you. Well, you should be on your way, Roger. You’ve got a big day ahead of you...”

At which point I snapped awake. I glanced around to find myself back in my office, where I had fallen asleep at my keyboard. No biggee, I had done so a couple of times. But it was the first time that something from my dreams had carried over to real life.

In my left hand was a small, black, cartridge, with a little white skull on it.

I admit it, for a long time I was seriously freaked out about it. I was here, alone in a secured building. The office was locked as securely as the rest of the building. I know the cartridge has NOT been there in my office before I nodded off. Therefore, only one of two conclusions could be correct. One, I was still asleep and dreaming this whole episode, or two, I was very much awake, and somehow, through unknown means, my dream had manifested here in real life. I gave myself a hard pinch and yelped. So much for theory number one.

Just before dawn, my curiosity got the better of me, and I slipped the cartridge into an unused console. (I certainly wasn’t about to upload it into an ACTIVE console, for all I knew it might be a virus designed to destroy eight weeks of work!) The file opened, and lines of text began scrolling by. I relaxed a bit, It was the frame program for the game we had created. I knew it like the back of my hand, and the lines of text scrolling down the screen were exactly the same. Well, except for this one line at the end. Huh? “What the fuck is that doing there? I don’t even know what half of this stuff means let alone what it will do!” No. Suddenly, like a light clicking on in my head, I DID know what it would do. Exactly what it would do. “Its a mind control program,” I said softly. “Subliminals. Calling for visual, auditory, even vibratory stimulation of whomever plays the game. Ingenious.” I don’t know how I knew, but I was absolutely sure of it.

Now, of course, the smart thing to do would have been to get rid of the black cartridge. The wise choice would have been to have sent the game as it was, and let the chips fall where they may. Well, I never claimed to be smart. I downloaded the file, integrated it into the existing game program, stored both ‘Red’ and ‘Blue’ in their packages, and brought the entire setup to the presentation. The details of the meeting are long and boring, but the synopsis is that they loved it! I was sent back to the States to personally oversee production in America, and run things in general. I had no complaints; indeed, I was eager to watch the results of my little experiment up close and personal.

Interesting. Nearly every child in America had the games now. It was one year later, and my little idea had sparked a revolution. It had been an okay idea, for certain, but I think I knew where the real success lay. The subliminal program added to the matrix did the job. It made the games addictive in the worst way. Kids simply HAD to have it. But most of all, they had to Catch ‘em All! They didn’t realize why, of course, only I truly knew what came about of catching all 150 of the little Monsters. To do so, both versions had to be linked, with data traded back and forth, from one cartridge to another. Once all 150 components were accessed, the subliminal programming would swing into full gear, implanting definite and detailed instructions into the person’s head. The central idea was to garner enough support from the children of the world, our biggest clients, and make them into loyal customers in the years to come, even as adults. Long term job security. But I was curious about some of the short-term benefits as well.

I invited my date up into the spacious New York apartment I had purchased after moving back to the States. It was almost identical to the one in my California holdings, maybe a little smaller. “Make yourself at home, Cyndi,” I said, walking into the kitchen to fix some drinks.

“Hmmm. Nice place you have here,” she said idly, taking in the lay of the room. “And its so big! It must have cost a pretty penny to get a space like this here in New York.”

I chuckled. “Well its not Madison Avenue or anything, but it the place I call home... when I’m not gallivanting off on the West Coast, anyway. Please, have a seat. I’ll have cold drinks on the way. I have a fully stocked bar, you want anything in particular?”

“Scotch and soda for me, neat, please,” she replied, sitting down on my couch. “Oh, what’s this? One of those gamy things. I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Roger.” She laughed softly. “What are you, a big thirty-something kid?”

I smiled back at her, all teeth. “You’d be surprised how many adults play those ‘Gamy Things’. And its a good thing, too. My company sank a lot of money into redoing the entire line, making them more compact and easier to carry around. I should know, I helped design the new look.”

“Oh. You work for them, huh?” She at least had the good graces to appear embarrassed.

“Yeah. It pays the bills well enough that I can afford this place and another on the West Coast, and commute back and forth whenever I need to. And its an okay job, too.”

“Uh huh,” she replied idly, picking up the unit. Just as I had hoped. I wondered if leaving it out in the open was a tad too obvious, but as soon as she flipped it on, all my worries vanished.

“Hey, its that game!” she said with a smile. “You know, everyone I know is so involved in that game, trying to collect all those funny little creatures. I’ve never seen the big deal about it, but my younger brothers and sisters fight over it all the time. Tell me, what’s your secret?”

I looked at her, and in a totally deadpan voice, said, “We brainwash them into playing.”

Cyndi looked at me for a moment, then burst into laughter. My laughter soon followed. “Its partially true, anyway,” I admitted. “I mean, look, the game is everywhere now. We spent a fortune having it advertised, on TV, on radio, in magazines. We pretty much made it so that you can’t turn a corner or walk down a street without finding it in your face through some means or another. We have a nationally run cartoon based on the game here in America and Japan, and I can’t say about there, but HERE it hit the number one time slot for Saturday morning. Heck, we even have a breakfast cereal now! With all that air play, being repeated over and over and over again, it is all kind of like brainwashing, isn’t it?”

Cyndi gave me a smug little glance. “Yeah, well it doesn’t seem to work on me. I have seen and heard all the hype, but I never felt the want or desire to play one of these stupid little games.”

I pointed at her hand. “Well you have one in your hands now. And its on. Why not give it a test run and SEE what all the fuss is about. After all, its rather unfair to call the game stupid before you even play it.”

“Oh very well,” she sighed, putting down her drink. “How do you get started in this thing anyway?”

“Oh its easy. Just hit the start button and watch the instructions from the Professor. He helps get things started.” She watched the screen, intently, as the demo played out. I, in turn, watched her intently. As was the case with every other woman I had tested this on, she tensed up at first, from hr face down to her toes. The body’s natural reaction to receiving unwanted input, I suppose. Gradually, she began to relax, leaning back into the couch,

“Name?” she asked suddenly. “Name! It’s asking for a name. What do I put in?”

I blinked. “Um, maybe, your NAME?” I grinned at her expression. “Well, if that is too personal a question, just make up a name. It doesn’t matter, its just something to call the main character during his or her journey.” Reluctantly, Cyndi typed in her name. I watched her body settle back into its previous relaxed state. By now the Professor had finished his explanation, and she was free to move around the little world a bit. The game was mostly self-explanatory. Little people roamed around the world for her to talk to, that gave her hints and instructions on what to do next. The trickiest part had been explaining the complicated rules on how to play and what type beats another type, in a way that anyone other than a ten year old child would understand.

Cyndi began to get into the game. I watched her sidelong, as her eyes dilated visibly, focused intently on the small video screen. She was obviously off in her own little world, and though I spoke to her and asked her questions, she never looked up, and she never for an instant stopped playing. Finally, I had to physically remove the game from her hands and switch it off. “Okay, I get the point, Cyndi. You like the game. I did a good job making it. Let’s not forget we’re on a date here.” She blushed slightly, clearly embarrassed to have gotten so involved in the game. She grabbed her purse and we prepared to go out, but I went to my room for a moment to ‘get my wallet’. Once inside the room, I switched on my laptop, my secret lifeline into the brainworks of the game. I dialed in, put in my pass code, and entered the cartridge number for the game she had been playing.

Now, everyone of you out there that has played my little game by now knows that the game assigns the player an Trainer number. What most of you are not aware of is that each trainer number assigned coincides with a special set of hypnotic triggers and phrases generated by the game, and placed indescriminantly into your unsuspecting minds. I sketched Cyndi’s assigned triggers phrases on a sheet of note-it paper and logged off.

“Ah, found it. I guess we’re ready to go now, Cyndi. That is, unless you’d rather stay here instead and spend one ‘shaggadelic time, baby’?” A totally ridiculous phrase, but I think I set it up well. Cyndi’s eyes glazed over again, and her jaw dropped. Smirking, I walked over to her. “What’s the matter Cyndi? You don’t seem so anxious to go out now. Maybe we should just stay here and entertain ourselves. If you have no objections, that is.”

“No... objections...” she whispered softly.

“Great. Well first off, let’s make ourselves more comfortable. Why don’t you start by taking off all your clothes for me!” Nodding, the mesmerized girl silently removed all her clothes, placing them in a neat pile on the floor. My mouth actually watered when I saw her various charms unwrapped for me. “Nice. Now, Cyndi-slave, come over here and do the same for me.” Wordlessly, she walked over and removed my clothes, starting from my shirt all the way down to my shoes and socks. Every caress of her gentle hands on my flesh sent me to higher and higher levels of pleasure. I could hardly wait to fuck her senseless!

“Okay, Cyndi-slave. I’m going to fuck you now, in every way, shape, or manner I choose. How does that sound to you?”

“Sounds... good... Master.”

An idea popped into my head. I have no idea where from. “Call me ‘Professor’.”

“Yes... Professor...”

I had her six ways from Sunday and back again. Being entranced, she was a bit stiff and unresponsive, but after the second or third rut, I was bright enough to simply give her post hypnotic commands and awaken her. Cyndi, programmed to be a sexual toy for my amusement, brought me off six times that night, not to mention her innumerable orgasms. Afterwards, I erased her memory of the entire incident, leaving her only the fuzzy idea that she had ‘had a good time’ on our date. The test had been successful, and I was riding pretty high. This was the type of life I had always dreamed of, being the man in charge, and having women flock to me, existing to serve me, running at my beckoned call.

In the next three years, I had many delicious young women. Everything from college co-eds, to venerable, mature ladies of stature, to common housewives with uncommon bodies. I kept a computer listing of all the eligible females that had seen, played, or bought a copy of the games, to play or as presents for their kids. It didn’t matter if they played it or not, just as long as they were exposed to the music and graphics of the game in some way for a short time. In all that time I had only one near miss. A young attractive woman had bought Red version for her niece, who lived in another state. When I approached her, she thought I was crazy. I managed to talk my way out of it, making as if it had been a joke, but I had been sweating bullets for a bit. Apparently, she was one of the rare people in America who had never seen, heard, or played the game, or the TV show at all. A real shocker to the boys in marketing, that a person living in the US had never heard of our game, but, well, you can’t reach EVERYBODY.

Shortly thereafter, I received a call from my boss at the home company in Japan. “Hello? Roger Johnson here.”

“Mr. Johnson. Ah, so glad to have caught you. I wanted to congratulate you on the success of your project. Sales are through the roof and still climbing. Your hard work enabled us to remain competitive through our first trying months with the new system. Very good work.”

I groaned slightly, biting back a yelp. “Um, thank you sir. My pleasure. I am just glad to be part of the team.” I hoped this would not take too long. My two sexy lovers were beginning to get impatient, and the little nibbles and love bites they were giving me was starting to make conversation difficult. Heedless of my problems, the boss droned on.

“...and I was thinking that we should strike while the iron is hot, as they say. This Pokem—eh? What’s that? No, no, how many times do I have to tell you, not while I am on the phone! Where was I? Oh yes... this game of yours, it is great, and it has swept the nation, but we can do more with it. Much more. We need to expand, and take advantage of the international craze to launch a new version. Have you any thoughts on this, Mr. Johnson?”

As a matter of fact I did. Pushing the girls away for a moment, I turned my attention back to the phone. “Yes, Mr. Hashimoto, as a matter of fact, I have a few ideas in the works. First, a new cartridge, one for the new system we have out, to help with its sales problems. A STADIUM game, where trainers with MONSTERS saved from other games can download them into this game and battle each other. The personal one-on-one battles from the original cartridges seemed to be one of the most popular features. But that’s not all. I’ve already started work on a new updated program, more complex and difficult than the other version, a game guaranteed to keep the kids interested longer, and to keep them coming back for more. I call this one, ‘Gold’ and ‘Silver’.”

“Hai! I like it. Sounds good. Well, Mr. Johnson, this call is costing me much money, so I will depart now. I look forward to seeing your preliminary report on Monday morning. Have a good weekend, Mr. Johnson.”

“And you as well,” I said with a yawn, tossing the phone away like garbage. My attention returned to the two lovely partners sharing my bed. “Now ladies, where were we? Ah, yes. Stacy, my dear ex, you were sucking so heavenly on my cock, and you, Mrs. Manoi, you were trying to slide your tongue down my throat. Okay, girls, resume your positions.”

They giggled and returned to their work with vigor. I smiled a bit, relaxing into their sweet caring embrace. This was much better than the dream...

Somewhere out there, a digital form glanced at the incoming data and smiled. “Hmm, not too bad,” Professor Oak said with a grin. “He’s well on his way to taking every woman in the world. Who knows, maybe he’ll be the first to really Catch ‘Em All!?”