The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

NOW:

“That’s a great story,” said Kevin. “Of course, if it weren’t for—her”—he gestured at the silver-coated beauty waiting at attention beside the coffee table, where both of their cups now rested—“I wouldn’t believe a word of it.”

Seth snorted. “Of course not. You’re not an idiot. But of course, she is here.”

He addressed the woman: “Rhoda, take our cups out to be washed, please, and then return here and wait for your next orders.”

“Yes, master,” his flesh-and-blood robot responded. “As you command.” She picked up the cups and left the room with them. A couple of minutes later, she returned and resumed her former pose, feet together, arms at her sides and eyes straight ahead. Waiting.

THEN:

Rhoda Gleason woke at dawn.

She stretched beneath her sheets and yawned widely. She felt so relaxed. So refreshed. And . . .

As memory returned, she chuckled deep in her throat. What a dream she’d had! She’d acted out her deepest fantasy, about being an erotic robot—and it had seemed so real! It had been unbelievably intense! She’d had dreams like it before, once or twice, but never so detailed or so powerful. Even the memory of it made her sweat.

The only strange thing about it was who her “master” had been.

Seth Dorfman? Dorkman? That was nuts!

Still . . . the dream had been great. Who cared if her subconscious had cast that nerd as her master for some screwball reason? It wasn’t as if he really had power over her. Brrrr, what a thought!

And it even made sense, in a weird sort of way. Even back at school, while she’d been taking her business major, he’d been into computers and robots. Her dreaming mind had obviously remembered that, after they’d met at the merger celebration. It was easy enough to see him playing mad scientist.

It would be weird working with him. Well, maybe she wouldn’t see him that often. After all, he was on the tech side, while she was on the corporate end. Their paths might cross at meetings and the occasional company party, but otherwise, there was no reason they should ever see each other.

NOW:

“Again,” cautioned Seth, “I obviously wasn’t there for that part. I put it together later, from things Rhoda said to me.”

Kevin nodded. “Yes, yes, I understand,” he assured his friend. “You don’t need to keep reminding me, okay? Just go on. What happened next?” He was hooked now. He had to hear the end of this story.

“All right,” Seth answered. “Now while Rhoda was going on with her life, completely unaware of what I’d done to her, I was making plans to take full advantage of the situation. . . .”

THEN:

Seth was on edge for the next few days. If Rhoda’s programming didn’t hold, he’d be looking at unemployment, a lawsuit, maybe prison. Hypnotizing her briefly at the merger party had been one thing; putting her under and then making her perform what amounted to a triple-X movie script with him was quite another.

But as time passed with no sign of trouble, he relaxed. Obviously his suggestions were holding. At last he decided it was time for another one-on-one session between the two of them.

Rhoda’s office number was available through the e-mail system at work. Seth waited until four-thirty before placing the call.

Rhoda was puzzled to receive it. “You want me to come over to your house this evening? Why?”

“I’d rather not say over the phone,” Seth replied carefully. “It’s business, though. Will you come over?”

“I—” Rhoda hesitated. There was no good reason to do this. What could Dorfman want to see her about that they couldn’t discuss at the office, during regular hours? Hell, what could he have to see her about, period?

She was about to say no when memory of the feverish dream she’d had a few nights earlier flooded through her. Perspiration popped out on her flushed skin, and a tiny noise escaped her.

She drew a deep breath and collected herself. What could it hurt? She could handle Dorkman, for God’s sake! She banished the steamy images in her head. “All right. What time?”

“Seven-thirty would be fine.”

“Okay, then.” There was something oddly significant about that time, but Rhoda couldn’t pin it down. She let it go. “Seven-thirty.” She hung up the phone and busied herself with some last-minute work.

Seth Dorfman grinned as he placed his own phone’s handset back in its cradle. Another suggestion was working just as planned. If she’d never been hypnotized, Rhoda Gleason would never have agreed to come over to his place even once. Now, however, she’d been programmed to be unable to say no when he asked her to do that He recalled something she’d revealed while she’d been under. Rhoda had confessed that she’d actually bought metallic dyes to apply in acting out her robot fantasy. Maybe tonight he’d suggest that she bring that stuff wit her next time. Soon, she’d be ready to go deeper into her imagined role. And eventually . . .

He licked his lips. Eventually, she’d be “robot” Rhoda all the time. It would take careful preparation to detach her from her present life without drawing unwelcome attention, but he could do it. He was sure he could. After all, Rhoda herself would help him.

Late that night, Seth shrugged into a robe as a nude and sweaty Rhoda stared at the slowly spinning disk across the room from her. The sex had been every bit as great as last time. Now, though, it was time for further instructions.

“Rhoda,” he asked, “can you hear me?”

“Yes,” the woman replied in a soft, dreamy voice. “Hear you.”

“You know you’re a robot, don’t you, Rhoda? A sexy robot who wants only to obey her master.”

“Yes.” Rhoda squirmed in her seat. “I’m a sexy robot. I want only to obey . . . my master.” Pleasure shot through her and she squealed. “Ohhhh—obeyyyy!”

“Now Rhoda,” Seth instructed, “when you leave here, just like last time, you will come fully awake. You will go straight home, just like last time, giving no thought to what happened here tonight. You will go straight to bed and sleep until morning, and when you awaken, you will once again remember this experience only as an exciting, arousing dream.”

“Exciting,” mumbled the woman slumped in the chair. As she spoke, her eyes continued to track the colors swirling across her face and burrowing into her brain. “Arousing. Dream. . . .”

“That’s right,” responded Seth. “It will excite you just to think of this dream, and it will be harder and harder not to. It will begin to be difficult to think of anything else. Soon I will ask you to come here again, and you will agree to come. Because in the back of your mind you will know that coming here means you might have that dream again.”

“Yes,” whispered Rhoda. “You will ask me to come . . . and I will . . . come.” She was only dimly aware that she was speaking. All that mattered were the beautiful swirling colors.

“And next time,” Seth went on, “when you come, you will stop off at your place and pick up the dyes you told me about, the ones you wanted to use in your fantasy. You still have them, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Rhoda confessed. “I still . . . have them—nnghhh!” Her body jerked ecstatically as her response triggered Seth’s prior suggestion that she would feel pleasure whenever she told him the truth.

“That’s good, robot Rhoda.” Seth, standing behind Rhoda’s chair now, massaged the woman’s shoulders. She sighed happily. “Then the next time I call you over to my house, you’ll go over to your place first and pick up those dyes. You will bring them with you to my place. You won’t think about why you’re doing this; you’ll just do it.”

“Just . . . ooh . . . dooooo . . . . it.” Rhoda shuddered with pleasure. Her subconscious mind recognized how Seth’s commands played into her deepest desires. Her conscious mind had nothing to say, on that or any other subject, at the moment.

“Very good, robot Rhoda.” Seth stepped over to the spinning spiral disk and turned it off. Rhoda never noticed. The whirling colors were in her mind now, as her brain helplessly continued its futile effort to extract a pattern from them.

Shortly, Seth stood on his front stoop watching as Rhoda drove away. Once more, Rhoda had responded just as he’d hoped; her training was going perfectly.

In future sessions, he’d intensify her fantasy’s grip on her thoughts. He intended to make it impossible for her to do her job, impossible to think about anything but the “dreams” she kept having. Presently he would invite her over to his house and put her through the roleplay, sex and all, without using the disk on her first—although before then, he’d install a trance trigger, just in case.

Little by little, he would wean her away from her ordinary life and immerse her deeper and deeper in her imagined role. Eventually, she would “decide” to quit work and move in with him. And after that, he’d work on her until she no longer knew she had ever been anything but a sexy robot, obedient to her master. To him.

NOW:

“Whew,” Kevin Anders gasped. After a moment, he went on. “Aren’t you even a little ashamed, though? You’ve turned a bright, ambitious woman into a zombie sex slave!”

“And this is bad because . . . ?” Seth snickered. “Seriously, you remember what it was like back in the day. If anyone deserved this, Rhoda Gleason’s the one.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Kevin cast a glance at the stiffly standing woman in the silver body paint and tiny, revealing silver dress. “Boy, payback really is a bitch!” He laughed. “Go on. Do go on!”

“Anything for a friend.” Seth paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Well, anyway . . . !”

THEN:

Rhoda replaced the receiver. Why had she agreed to meet Seth Dorfman at his house again?

She shook her head, confused. This was the third time he’d asked her to come over, supposedly on business. Each time, somehow, she’d found herself saying yes, against her better judgment. And if they actually had done anything related to business, she was damned if she could remember what it was.

Well, it wasn’t as if he’d tried anything. If he ever did, she’d slap him down hard. After all, she had her standards!

Suddenly, for no reason she could identify, she found herself thinking of the dream she’d had the previous night. She flushed. It was another of those sexy-robot dreams—and once again, Dorfman had played the role of “master.” What the hell is going on in my head? she wondered. Whatever it was, she wasn’t about to let anyone know about it. Especially not Dorfman!

But, oh God, what a turn-on! She’d kept that fantasy pretty well buried for years, although (she admitted) it might well have played some role in her eventual career choices. But for some reason, it seemed to be forcing its way to the forefront of her thoughts lately, ever since she’d met Dorfman again.

In fact, it was actually getting to be a problem. When something reminded her of the dreams—and more and more things seemed to do so—she had to fight to think of anything else. The CGC/ADS merger was dumping a lot of work onto business-side staffers like her, and she didn’t need that kind of distraction.

Shortly after five, she left the office. She was to meet with Dorfman at the usual time. Before then, she wanted to go home and freshen up. And there was something she was supposed to get, wasn’t there? Yes—she couldn’t quite remember what it was, but she was sure it would come to her.

Rhoda Gleason lived in a comfortable high-rise just outside the city. The commute was usually no more than half an hour by car. She was home before six.

She showered, dried her hair and got dressed. Then, without quite thinking about what she was doing, she rummaged through her clothes closet. At length she found what she’d been seeking; she pulled out several containers and a small zipper bag full of applicators and put everything in her handbag. Then she inspected herself in the mirror, fluffed her hair with one hand and headed out of her apartment. As soon as the door closed behind her, she forgot all about having looked through her closet.

By now, she found it easy enough to navigate over to Dorfman’s house, despite the detour she’d taken. She arrived right on time. Seth was waiting for her, and ushered her inside.

“So,” she began impatiently, “what did you want this time?” She wasn’t going to admit she didn’t remember what they’d discussed last time, or the time before. That would make her look like a total birdbrain!

“Nothing major,” Seth assured her. “Just a small matter. Here, I’ll show you. This way, please.” He guided her out of the living room and into a side room where a strange but oddly familiar device was set up. There was a comfortable chair set up facing this apparatus. Without thinking, she sat in it.

Seth crossed the room and did something to the machine. The large disk on its front began to turn. . . .

Rhoda needed only the most gentle of guidance now to slip into trance. The colors playing across the surface of the turning disk caught her eyes and held them, drawing her in and around, in and around, as they swept across her field of vision. Very soon, she saw nothing else. Nothing else mattered except for the male voice which came to her from somewhere beyond the beautiful swirling colors. It was the voice of her master. It told her to sit quietly and watch the pretty colors and wait for further orders.

Robot Rhoda obeyed. It was wonderful to obey.

Seth smiled. Rhoda had offered hardly any resistance. Her mind now associated trance with pleasure, and so surrendered readily. He still led her through the routine of “role-playing” as a robot, but more and more, she was losing herself completely in the part, even without being told to do so. On a primal level, she wanted this—wanted not only to pretend to be a robot, but to actually be one!

He went through her handbag. Sure enough, she had packed the exotic cosmetics he’d ordered her to bring. Tonight’s session promised to be especially rewarding. The stuff she’d brought would enable him to deepen her immersion in the robot persona even more.

And, he admitted, it would be an extra thrill for him. After all, Rhoda wasn’t the only one here with a thing about robots.

At his command, she rose from her seat. As on her previous visits, escorted her into the bedroom. But this time, before the two of them got down to erotic business, he had something new for her to do.

Before leaving the disk room, he’d collected Rhoda’s body pigments. Now he set them down carefully on the small table beside his bed and faced her. It was time to shape her further, time to play Pygmalion to her hypnotized Galatea.

“Rhoda,” he decreed, “take off your clothing.”

“Yes, master,” came the answer. Seth grinned. Sure it was hokey, but it turned him on. He watched happily as the woman whose younger self had spurned his every advance peeled sinuously out of her clothes in front of him.

When she was completely bare, he continued. Pointing to the bedside table, he said, “Put the makeup on, Rhoda. Put it on, and as you do, imagine yourself becoming even more completely a robot than you already are. Imagine that your deepest fantasy is coming true.”

Rhoda reached eagerly for the materials on the table and began painting herself. As the silvery body paint went on, she began shivering and panting in obvious pleasure. Finally she stopped.

Her blissed-out expression began to fade. Set was about to ask her what was wrong when he suddenly realized the answer.

“You can’t do your back properly, can you, Rhoda. And you need that, don’t you.”

“Yes, master.” It was eerie: her voice had taken on a faint reverberation. “I need that.”

“Here, let me.” Seth took the body paint and its applicator from Rhoda’s unresisting hands and worked on her back, carefully leaving just a small portion of her spine bare to allow her skin to breathe properly. Then he helped her apply the hair color as well.

Done, he stepped back to take a look.

His hips shook as he went rock-hard and nearly came. God, she was gorgeous as a robot! She was his own secret fantasy come to life!

Okay, he told himself as he wiped perspiration (and just a little drool) from his face, maybe the silver coloring was over the top; in most of his daydreams, his robot women had had a human skin tone. But he couldn’t deny that the gleaming metallic look had an exotic appeal of its own. Besides, it helped push her entranced mind deeper into the role. And the stuff would come off only with soap; mere perspiration wouldn’t make it run and spoil things.

He led Rhoda into his bathroom, where there was a full-length mirror. “Look at yourself, robot Rhoda,” he commanded. “You really are a robot. See it, Rhoda, know that it’s true, Rhoda.”

The naked silver woman regarded her reflection and squealed in ecstasy. Without being prompted, she began to pose before the mirror, turning her face sideways, raising her arms and lacing her fingers together in her hair, standing on tiptoe and turning back and forth. A soft hiss escaped her: “Yes, yes, I’m a robot, I’m a sexy robot, yesssss. . . .”

“Nnn-nnuhhhh!” Seth fought not to explode as he watched her. He wheezed, “R-remember, robot Rhoda, I’m the one who gave you your dream. It’s because of me that you’re a robot, Rhoda, as you always dreamed of being, robot Rhoda.” He paused to wipe his face. “That’s . . . that’s why I’m your, ohh God, your m-m-master!”

Swiveling back and forth on tiptoe, arms raised and ample bust outthrust below her backward-tilted head, Rhoda agreed mechanically, “You’re my mas-ter.” A spasm of pleasure shivered through her and she burst out, “My master! Ooooooohhh!”

Seth moaned. If he didn’t get Rhoda back into the bedroom right this minute, he was going to blow his wad right here.

“C-c-come with me,” he stammered, gesturing. He headed out if the bathroom. Rhoda followed, whispering, “Yes, master. I’m a sexy robot. Yes, master.”

Soon they were writhing together amid the bedclothes, all else forgotten. Seth flew through as world of exploding fireworks and loud noises, coming repeatedly as he pumped first between her legs, then between those silvered breasts, then back again. Sweat glistened on Rhoda’s tinted skin, accentuating its metallic look. At last, worn out, Dorfman fell asleep.

Much later, he awoke to find Rhoda sprawled over him, dead to the world, one arm around his neck. Very carefully, he slid out from under her and got up.

He hadn’t intended to lose control like that. Falling asleep had been dangerous. If Rhoda had awakened first, she might have come out of trance. Then the shit would really have hit the fan.

He needed to get her home again. To do it, though, he’d have to get her up—and he wanted a little insurance when he did so.

Seth padded away. There was something he needed to get.

A few minutes later he returned. Leaning over Rhoda’s inert form, he gently prodded her. “Rhoda,” he murmured, “Rhoda, you need to wake up now.”

“Mmnh?” The muffled noise emerged as Rhoda stirred. “Wha—?”

Abruptly, the woman’s eyes popped open. “What—hey, what’s going on?”

Seth swore. He’d been right; the trance had worn off. Well, he was prepared. He brought up the strober, retrieved from the small drawer he’d built for it in the base of the large hypno-disk. Squeezing his eyes shut behind the dark glasses he now wore as he aimed it and thumbed its switch.

A few seconds later, he shut it off again and removed his protective glasses and spoke. “Relax, Rhoda. Everything’s all right.”

Rhoda, bonelessly relaxed on the bed, repeated, “Everything’s . . . all right.” Her eyes tracked separately, their pupils shrunken to tiny dots. In the darkness of the bedroom, the strober’s brilliant flash had hit her even harder than before.

“That’s right,” Seth assured her. “Now get up, Rhoda, and come with me.”

Wordlessly, Rhoda obeyed. Seth led her back into the disk room, sat her down, put his protective glasses back on and started the disk.

A few seconds later, he spoke. “Rhoda, soon you’re going to go home. When you go home, you’ll remove the robot makeup you have on and go to bed.” He drew a breath. “When you wake up in the morning, you’ll feel relaxed and refreshed, and you will not remember my hypnotizing you.”

Rhoda echoed Seth’s words in a mechanical voice, finishing, “Not remember . . . you hyp-no-tiz-ing me.” Without prompting, she added, “Yes mas-ter.”

Seth groaned, aroused anew by the honey-haired hypnotized honey’s total submission. He had to force himself to resist the urge to take her back to the bedroom. “Gnngh,” he ground out, “You will not remember me hypnotizing you, but you’ll remember being robot Rhoda, remember everything we did together. You will remember these things as a powerfully exciting dream, one you’d do anything to make real.”

Rhoda gasped as she again repeated Seth’s suggestions. Fresh perspiration glistened on her face as the swirling spiral of colors from the disk in front of her spun across her features. “Do anything . . . to make it . . . reeeallll.” She squirmed in her seat and her hands came up and began kneading the soft flesh of her breasts. “Annnythinggg . . . !”

Rhoda’s entranced ecstasy was almost too much for Seth to stand. He was panting as he turned off the disk, and had a massive erection. With an effort, he focused and fought off the urge to take her back to bed. The plan, he had to follow the plan. . . .

“All right, robot Rhoda,” he said to her, “it’s time to go home now. Come with me.” His voice was hoarse as he gave the order.

Rhoda obeyed, allowing herself to be led into the living room and seated on the couch. Seth brought her clothes to her and told her to get dressed. When she was fully clothed, he gave her new instructions.

“When you leave my house, Rhoda, you will become fully awake and alert, and will go home. As you’ve done before, you will drive home without thinking about where you’ve been. Once you’re home, you’ll follow my earlier orders. Repeat those orders, please, Rhoda.”

Rhoda repeated Seth’s prior suggestions. Satisfied, her master nodded and went on. “I’ll call you again Friday afternoon. Before then, however, you’ll find yourself fantasizing more and more about acting out your robot fantasy for real. You will look into your closet and discover that your special makeup, your fantasy makeup, is gone. You will believe it’s lost, and you’ll buy more. Do you understand, robot Rhoda?”

“Yes, master,” Rhoda droned.

Seth smiled. “After I call you on Friday, you’ll go home and pick up the robot makeup before coming to my house. And when you arrive at my place, the moment you hear me say the word ‘robot,’ you will suddenly find it impossible to resist the urge to play the sexy robot, with me as your master. Nothing else will matter, when we are at my place and I say the word ‘robot’ you will forget about everything else.”

“When you say the word . . . robot,” moaned the honey-tressed woman in the chair, “I-I’ll want to . . . be the sexy robot. With you as . . . my massster! N-nuh-nothing, oh God . . . nothing else will . . . will matter.” She squealed in ecstasy, eyes rolling up in their sockets as her back arched and her head tipped back.

“Excellent, robot Rhoda.” Seth rubbed his hands together in glee. Rhoda’s mind was more and more strongly associating her visits here, and the role she played here, with pleasure. And even though that link lay hidden in her subconscious, it drew her deeper under his control with each visit. If tonight’s suggestions held, next time he wouldn’t even need the spiral to immerse her in her robot role. She’d do it herself, as soon as he provided her cue.

Seth escorted Rhoda to his front door and watched as she got into her car and drove away. As memories of the way she’d treated him at school passed through his mind, his smile broadened into a lascivious grin.

Ahhh, he thought, revenge is sweet!

NOW:

“It sure is,” Kevin Anders said, admiration in his voice. After a brief, thoughtful pause, though, he had an objection: “But I thought you couldn’t hypnotize someone into doing anything against their fundamental moral code. Seems to me you stretched that pretty far.”

Seth Dorfman grinned. “You could say that.” A moment later, in a more serious tone, he explained. “The thing is, people can be brought to do or believe almost anything, ‘fundamental moral code’ or not, if you work on them skillfully enough, long enough. Keep working on them and you can change their so-called ‘moral code.’

“Hypnosis, after all, is just a state of heightened suggestibility—or persuadability, if you prefer. It lets you talk a subject into things more easily—a lot more easily, in the case of a deep trance.”

He paused, looked into his friend’s eyes, and concluded: “Besides, with Rhoda, I had her own fantasy to work with. It gave me leverage to slowly turn her into something she secretly wanted to be but couldn’t bring herself to become. And because it was something she wanted, and I arranged things so that yielding to her buried urges was powerfully rewarded, her own mind began pushing her further along the road I wanted her to travel. She wasn’t working against her fundamental nature, you see, but with a part of it she was simply reluctant to acknowledge.”

“I see,” murmured Kevin. “When you put it that way . . . !”

“But I wasn’t finished, of course,” Seth continued. “Not by a long shot. . . .”