The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Okay, maybe calling Charlene a “girl” was stupid, but Jake couldn’t help it. There she was, sitting there at the table, her blouse unbuttoned except for the last button, half drunk at least and going for the other half, smugly willing Fabian to pass out as they tried to drink each other under the table; the sight was a little disconcerting. Her skin was as smooth as the proverbial baby’s bottom. She stood about 4′11″, although she always insisted she was five feet even. When she was drunk, she didn’t look twenty-one. Anyone looking at her would think she was about four years younger than she really was, although when she sobered up, she would regain a couple of years, but that would bring her visible age only up to nineteen. Jake was twenty, but would be twenty-one in another month. Jake watched his friends toss shot after shot down their throats for another ten minutes before Fabian’s last glass slipped from his fingers, and he slipped from the chair to the floor. Triumphantly, Charlene stood—or rather, pushed herself from the table then leaned against it—and let out a loud guffaw.

“In the immortal words of the Leprechaun,” she began, raising one finger to make her point, “‘Drink what ya want, drink what yer able, but if yer drinkin’ with me, yer’ll be under th’ table!’” At that, she burst out laughing. Jake was there to catch her when her grip failed her and she fell. She laughed again. She was definitely drunk off her gourd, as the saying went. At this point, Jake was glad she wasn’t any bigger, because he was no body builder, although lugging her back to the car every Friday to take her home was definitely giving him a workout, although he’d learned the hard way to lift with his knees, not his back. He got her out of the apartment and carried her down the stairs, and she giggled the whole way. Jake set her into the red Chevy and belted her in, then moved around to his side. He felt safer being the designated driver than being the one who was allowed to drink. Charlene had a tendency to peel out in a screeching blaze of glory whenever she drove. Once, she had been ticketed for driving a hundred miles per hour over the speed limit. She’d been going 145mph in a 45mph zone, as Jake remembered it. Add to that the fact that she didn’t pull over when the officer flashed his lights—in fact, she tried to lose him—and the fact that she cussed the officer out when he finally pulled her over, and one can see why she lost her license for a year.

Jake pulled into the driveway of the Buckner Apartments, shut off the engine, removed his keys, then walked around to Charlene’s side. He opened the door and unbelted her. She was on the verge of passing out, but she was fighting it. Jake picked her up and carried her up the stairs to their apartment. She giggled as he removed her blouse and her cutoffs. Drunkenly, she pulled off the bra and giggled as she tossed it in Jake’s face. She pulled herself up out of the chair and sat down as she fumblingly pulled off her panties. She pulled herself up and stood, wobbling, before him. She was dripping wet, and her nipples were hard and peaked. She staggered forward a couple of steps, then, giggling, toppled into Jake’s arms. She passed out right there, leaving Jake standing there holding her naked body. Jake was torn between the temptation to just fuck her right there and his knowledge that if she woke up and realized what had happened, she might not want to be his friend anymore, much less his roommate. Jake noticed the chin-up bar after a minute, and an idea came into his head. He bound Charlene’s hands behind her back and carried her limp form to the bar. There he bound her feet to the bar so she was dangling, then he blindfolded her and gagged her. He left her hanging like that and started gathering things. He found two vibrators Charlene used to relax her muscles after working out, a broken voltage meter with, most importantly, clamps at the ends of the positive and negative feeds. These clamps he cut off and placed with the other stuff. He found that herbal cream he had bought Charlene when she’d had a particularly bad cold. She had complained that it burned, and made her skin feel extremely sensitive. He placed that with the other stuff. After grabbing a bottle of lube and a tape recorder, he was ready.

Charlene woke up with a major headache. She was hanging upside-down, with something jammed in her asshole, and another thing in her pussy. There was something over her eyes, and she was bound and gagged. She groaned. The thing in her pussy came to roaring life, and Charlene then knew it to be a vibrator. The vibrator brought her to the brink of climax, then she heard a voice say “good girl” and then the vibrator took her over the edge. It continued like that until finally Charlene passed out. Then she was taken down from the bar, unbound, and placed in her bed.

Charlene’s alarm went off. She tossed it across the room.

“You really should get up, Charlene.” Jake said. “You’ll be late for work.”

“I don’t feel good.” Charlene said, pushing herself to the floor. Jake helped her to her feet, noting with considerable interest that she was dripping wet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re sick.” Jake said. “Shit! Why does stuff like this keep happening to you? You’re a good girl.” Charlene came. Jake supressed a smile and made his face a mask of concern. “What’s wrong, Charlene?”

“I think I just had an orgasm.” Charlene replied, now fully awake, but not feeling any better.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Charlene replied. “It just happened.”

“Look, why don’t you just stay here today. I’ll call in sick for you.” Jake said. “Just stay out of the liquor cabinet, OK?”

When Jake returned from work, he found Charlene sitting in the high-backed leather chair usually reserved for when her father visits. She was still naked, and was polishing off a bottle of whiskey that had been full that morning. Jake sighed as he picked her up and put her on the bed, where she passed out. Once he was certain she was completely out, he bound her again and hung her once more from the exercise bar.

When Charlene awoke, she was bound and hanging upside-down again, with the vibrators still in her ass and vagina. Her ass burned as though she had been rubbing Jake’s thrice-damned herbal cream shit on it. As a result, the skin was raw and very sensitive. The gag was missing, however.

“Say your name.” someone said. After two seconds, she still didn’t do as she was told. She felt her ass being slapped once, hard. It stung. She cried out. The person repeated himself. When she did not respond, he spanked her again. Seven times this repeated.

“Charlene!” she cried out after the seventh repetition.

“Good girl.” the man said, and Charlene had an orgasm, which was reinforced by action of the vibrator in her crotch. She came five times, and each time, just as she was on the verge of coming, he said “good girl” again, reinforcing the connection in her subconscious mind between orgasm and that phrase. Finally the vibrator stopped, and Charlene was allowed to calm down. The command to say her name was repeated. She obeyed each time, and was rewarded with another frenzy of sexual pleasure. Finally, she lost consciousness, and was returned to the bed.

Charlene awoke the next morning feeling no better than she had the day before. She didn’t even respond to the alarm. She awoke only when Jake shook her into wakefulness.

“Huh? What” she asked.

“You’re not feeling any better, are you?” Jake asked.

“Mm-mm.” Charlene replied, then tried to go back to sleep. Jake put the back of his hand against her forehead.

“You’re not running a fever.” he said. “Still, if you’re feeling this bad, I think I should stay here with you.”

“You’re so nice.” she said.

Jake called in sick, then went back in to check on Charlene. She was asleep again. Jake put her back on the bar.

When Charlene awoke, the person subjected her to more a more difficult trial than last time, but the principal was the same. He gave a command, which was usually within her ability to obey, despite being bound as she was, and she obeyed and was rewarded with an orgasm. The training continued until she passed out again.

After the first week, Charlene was fired from her job. Jake decided it was time to bring her down from the bar and condition her on the ground. He put on a mask and took off her blindfold. He spent the second and third weeks conditioning her to obey any command which was given her. The fourth, fifth and sixth weeks he spent conditioning her to do nothing unless she was commanded to. The seventh and eighth weeks were spent giving her a decided aversion to the prospect of wearing clothing. After that, Jake stopped being sneaky about it and stepped her up to full-time conditioning, and threw out all the liquor. The next six weeks were spent conditioning her to obey only him, to ignore other people, to address him as Master, to always be submissive in his presence, and to kneel silently with her head down whenever she wasn’t busy doing something at his command. The final month of her training was spent teaching her various methods of pleasing him sexually. By the time Charlene’s conditioning was complete, it had become exceedingly difficult for her to think of anything except her Master’s last command.

Almost a year had gone by since Charlene had completed her training. Jake had been promoted, and was now making enough to move out of the apartment and into a nice house. He now faced a problem. Charlene had been conditioned against wearing clothes, so how was he going to get her into the new house without someone calling the cops about a nudist? He gave her a series of tests, and saw that she had indeed responded well to her training, for she didn’t react aversely to being cooped up in a box for long periods of time. Truly a great slave, he thought. As he moved their stuff into the new house, with more bedrooms than there really needed to be, he thought about obtaining more slaves just like Charlene. There were several pretty young things up on the top floor, where his office now was. He could condition one of them. Charlene wouldn’t mind.