The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I.

Jenna Carlisle stood outside the door to my house and looked across the threshold as if it might be the portal to hell. Her long mane of red hair still retained a good amount of the static charge that had built by flailing against the headrest in the car. A small wet spot showed clearly at the crotch of her white slacks, despite the unevenly buttoned tails of her blouse and their attempt to cover it.

“Come on in,” I said, holding the sunroom door open for her.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea if anyone saw me here... like this...”

“Don’t worry,” I chuckled. “Mother stays at work until well after dark, Dad’s not in the picture. As for the maid, if she’s even here at all, she knows better than to stick her nose into our business.”

She finally gave in and I led her up the curved staircase to my bedroom. Once inside with the door closed, the poor woman seemed to relax a bit, most of her current nervousness stemming from not knowing what I was planning to do next.

“I’ve got this little dark place in my soul,” I said, pointing to the foot of the bed for her to sit. “My mind has a habit of trying to take me there when I really don’t want to go.”

Crossing the room, I grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the shelf. “And as you saw on my arm, I’ve had more than my share of experience in using pain to keep my mind from doing stupid shit that I don’t want it to.”

Next, I picked up my jewelry box from the dresser and then sat down on the bed beside her. “This is definitely not an invitation,” I said rather sternly as I began to unbutton my own blouse. “I just want to show you something I learned that doesn’t leave such nasty marks or worse, become fatal.”

I opened my blouse and I could see the discomfort growing in Jenna, yet again. I don’t think she was at all embarrassed by my seeming lack of inhibitions, but rather, the discomfort stemmed from the dirty thoughts that were running through her mind. No matter, though, I was determined to help her out. Inflicting pain upon oneself is a bad idea in general, but if it’s what you’ve got to do to get through the day, it’s better to get the most effect with the least amount of personal danger.

My breasts are rather small, so unless I was wearing something light colored, I usually forwent the whole bra thing. Today was no exception. I watched Jenna’s expression as she saw the thick gold bars that passed through each of my sensitive nipples. She didn’t seem to quite comprehend what I was getting at, yet, so I covered myself back up and explained it.

“One good firm twist,” I said, “and the darkness will stay away for a while. It doesn’t last forever, but it hurts like a bitch and might be just enough to get you through another five minutes when you need them.”

“I—Wha- How can you possibly have so much insight into what I’m going through?” she asked. “I don’t get it.”

“That little battle of wills that you’ve been fighting in your mind for the past few weeks...” I said as I opened up my jewelry box and dug around for my needle. “... I’ve been fighting it since the day I was born. Yours is just a bit more severe and debilitating, that’s all.”

Jenna flopped back onto the bed and moaned in frustration. Covering her face with her hands, she cried, “Isn’t there anything that doesn’t make me horny?”

“Do you want me to do this?” I asked, trying to avoid saying anything that could be even remotely construed as sexual, even by the most depraved deviant alive.

She was actually crying now. “I don’t mind the feelings I get—the whole lack of sexual hangups and inhibitions thing is really hot, believe me. I just wish I could turn it off for more than a few fucking minutes! By the time I come up with a non-sexual thought, I’ve got nothing left to actually be able to execute it!”

“Let me help you,” I said as I poured some rubbing alcohol into the little dish on my bedside table. “Undo your top.”

As the freckled woman opened her blouse, I saw that she hadn’t worn a bra, either. I wondered how someone with breasts as large as hers could make it through the day without support. I’m not particularly up on cup sizes, but I guessed that they had to be hearty C’s. Unlike the few other breasts I’d glimpsed of this size in the shower after gym class, Jenna’s breasts somehow seemed to support themselves. If it weren’t for the lack of scars, I would have bet any amount of money that they were fake.

I got up on my knees and leaned over her. With one hand, I pinched at her nipple to hold it steady. As expected, she gasped in pleasure at the sensation, but she managed to calm herself back down. Next, I dipped the needle into the alcohol and brought the needle into position.

“This is going to hurt like hell,” I warned her. “But then again, I guess that’s what we’re going for, here, eh?”

Jenna chuckled and I used the moment of distraction. Quickly and with a single, fluid motion, I ran the needle through her flesh. Her hands grabbed frantically at the bedspread and a loud moan escaped between her clenched teeth. I released my grip and moved away. Arching her back, she rocked side to side for several long moments before finally calming down and regaining some semblance of self-control.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my hand fishing around in the jewelry box.

Jenna sat up and grinned, “You, Drew McGreggor, are a genius.”

I held up a gold stud for her to inspect. “Do you like this one?”

“Hold off a second,” she said, lightly flicking at the needle in her tit with a wince. “I’m crystal clear right now and want to talk to you in case it doesn’t work again. First, I need to know that I can really trust you with this.”

“I think it’s a little late to worry about that now,” I said. “If I were going to go behind your back and get you into trouble or otherwise ruin your plans, I’ve already got enough ammunition to do so. Between getting yourself off right in front of me and the story you told me at the pizza place, there isn’t much else you could say that would make you any more vulnerable.”

“There’s more to it than you know,” she said. “If you are going to help me, I’m going to have to reveal my entire plan—and I’m not sure that it’s exactly what you imagine it to be. I need a partner who will help me to get the things done that I need to get done. I’m not looking for a conscience or someone who is going to tell me that I’m crazy. We’ve already pretty well established that fact.”

Glancing down at Jenna’s breast, I saw a droplet of blood forming where the needle pierced her skin. At the same moment, I noticed a sweet, yet salty odor that I had never smelled before. It was a heady aroma and as I took it into my lungs, it was almost as if I could see the smell as it permeated the room. Looking more closely at Jenna’s beautiful breast, I noticed a little droplet of something white and creamy at the very tip of her swollen nipple.

“You can count on me,” I said as the room started to spin and my pussy started to get wet for some inexplicable reason. “Your wish is my command.”

“Oh shit!” cried Jenna as she slapped her hand over her tit and sent another visible wave of pain through her. She grimaced in agony as she raced over to my closet and ducked inside. “Open a window,” she called from beyond the closed door. “Hurry!”

For some reason, I smiled as the words hit me. I was lost in a sort of erotic dream and the best part of it was that there was no sign of the darkness hovering in the wings. I was at once at peace and in a state of pure and perfect bliss. Even my Darkness seemed pleased.

“Open the window NOW!” came the muffled shriek that sounded horribly like Mother’s incessantly hollered commands...

Mother.

The image was enough to snap me from my daze and the words Jenna had yelled suddenly had meaning. I jumped off the bed and swung open the bay window near my desk. The hot summer air filtered into the room and my mind began to clear. I wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but I was pretty sure that I liked it.

II.

Ten minutes later, Jenna had managed to put in the gold stud and place a large gauze bandage over her nipple. She had said that the bandage should keep the chemical in her blood from evaporating into the air and affecting me again. So far, it seemed to be working. My head was clear.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” I asked, finally venturing away from the open window.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that it would...” she started to say.

“Don’t be sorry, I just want to know what it was and where I can score a hit or two for later!”

“It’s something we we’ve sort of experimenting with,” explained the redhead as she pulled her blouse back over her shoulders. “There was a StareWare program that never made it to market. It causes production of certain chemicals in the brain that are used by the body to stimulate euphoria. Those chemicals can then be released through bodily fluids like sweat and saliva. I’m supposed to be able to control it though—and until now, I haven’t had a problem.”

I considered it for a moment. “I think you—I think you’re lactating. I saw a droplet and...”

Jenna nodded, “Shit, that’s what happened. For a minute, I was afraid it might have been in my blood. Imagine if I got hit by a bus and all the EMT’s started humping me rather than trying to save my life!”

“That would suck,” I agreed. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask her more about the drug—and whether or not she might let me get my hands on a jar of it for recreational use—outside of work, of course. My bravery lacking for the moment, I decided to move onto something else.

“You said that you were experimenting,” I said, putting my jewelry box back on my dresser. “Do you already have tests running in a lab set up somewhere else?”

Jenna laughed, “If you call my bedroom a ‘lab’ and the insane notions of several sex crazed chicks ‘tests’, then yeah. I guess so.”

I was hoping that she had something more scientific set up. One of the comments Mother had made to me after the presentation didn’t have my hopes running very high. There was a better than good chance that Jenna’s project wouldn’t get its funding.

“How’s your head right now? Clear?” I asked in an attempt to gauge how long we had before she went back into her less cognitive self.

With a flick of her fingers across her sore tit, Jenna winced, turned red, and sat heavily onto the bed. “I think I’ve got a while, still works almost as good as the first time. What’s on your mind?”

“You need to be careful with that—too much and it’ll get infected,” I warned as I pulled out my desk chair and faced her. “Now, here’s the situation.”

I went on to explain how Mother “would have enjoyed” seeing me work on the project. Those were definitely words that didn’t instill a lot of hope. “Is there something, anything we can set up as a backup plan just to be safe?”

Jenna thought for a moment. “There are a couple of empty apartments in my building, but I’m not sure it would help much. I’ve got a few things going, but there’s no way I have near enough money to purchase the equipment we would need to do it properly.”

“The main idea is to get you fixed, right?” I asked. “I mean, all the other stuff would be great, but if we can just learn enough to get your head back on straight, then we would be able to go on and seek funding somewhere else.”

Jenna shook her head and I could see that she was debating whether or not she wanted to tell me about whatever she was thinking right then. I tried to look as reassuring as possible, and I guess it worked.

“I’m not really looking to find a way to fix myself,” she confided. “I definitely need to make a few adjustments in there, but at the end of the day, I’ve never felt so liberated in my life. The only real thing that is wrong, here, is that everyone else doesn’t find these thoughts and actions socially acceptable.”

And there it was, laid right out on the table. Jenna Carlisle looked at me, unsure of how I would react to the bomb that she had dropped on me. Right then and there, I wasn’t even sure how I was going to react.

On the surface, the plan was evil—more dark than the Darkness living inside of me. Rather than trying to control what she couldn’t control—and what in a way, what she didn’t want to control—she proposed eliminating those who would insist she try to control it. In her mind, she wasn’t broken but it was those who thought she was that needed fixing.

They say that insanity is defined by doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Throughout my life, I’d fought against my mother’s control over me. For eighteen years, I had tried it over and over without gaining a single inch of ground. Could it really be I who was insane?

What would happen if, rather than fighting the control, I found a way to accept it, to even embrace it? What if what my mother wanted for something became something that I truly desired for myself? If I surrendered to my Darkness—would I like what I found on the other side?

I didn’t know the answer, but I did know that rather than fighting against the unstoppable force, her plan called for eliminating the resistance to it. She was embracing her own darkness and seeing what was beyond. There wouldn’t be a problem with needing to get off every twenty minutes if everyone else was doing it too. In fact, those people might even lend a hand, so to speak.

I wasn’t sure if my mind was made up by what she had said, or how she had said it. Whether her plan made sense or whether I just wanted it to make sense, I made up my mind.

“I need to see what we’ve got to work with,” I said as I hugged the Dark within me.

III.

Darla Keegan had been my best friend since kindergarten. As the daughter of one of the wealthiest technology giants in the world, we had a lot in common. Even though her family hadn’t demanded she grow up and go into the family business as Mother had done with me, it had been more than casually encouraged. Since teenagers respond better to encouragement than to ultimatums, Darla had developed a pretty expansive knowledge in the subject of computers and software development. When we were sixteen, she developed a program that translated human nerve impulses into data. That program was used as part of the core software for the, then experimental, BioLink unit being developed by her father’s company. Now that BioLinks had been on the market for nearly a year, her financial security was pretty well ensured for life.

Aside from the fact that we were both raised by wealthy families who were in charge of two of the top ten largest corporations in the world, there were other things that had strengthened our bond of the years. Most important was that Darla could see the Darkness within me, yet she never judged nor feared it as so many others do. I couldn’t possibly count the number of times that she sat on the floor with her arms around me while, with a fresh wound from whichever sharp implement I’d happened to get my hands on, I battled the demons within. Holding the horrors of the world at bay, she was my protector, my confidant, my friend.

In the darkest of times, Darla Keegan was my light.

So it was, despite protestations from my brain scrambled mentor, that I called Darla and changed our afternoon meeting location to Jenna’s apartment. I’m not sure whether my insistence that Darla’s computing skills would prove invaluable for the job or whether Jenna didn’t want to be bothered with a fight, but it wasn’t that difficult to convince the red haired woman that I was right. We could definitely use all the help we could get.

“I need to run inside the club for a minute,” said Jenna as we stood outside her building. “Do you want to wait here? I’ll only be a minute.”

I nodded. I needed to wait for Darla out here on the street. That was as good an excuse as any to avoid going into the nudie bar that occupied the first floor of the building.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude or anything. When the rare occasion arises for me to have sex, I’m usually more than happy to jump at the chance. I’m also not one to judge others and if women like to dance around nude and men like to sit there and watch them, that’s all fine and dandy. It’s just not my thing and when provided the opportunity to not do something I don’t find attractive or interesting, I tend to jump at the chance.

“When I said that we should meet up and look for jobs after work, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, Drewster,” Darla said as she stepped out of the cab and stared up at the “Jiggy’s” sign above my head.

I laughed and assured her that we wouldn’t be venturing through that particular door. “I think I’ve found something a bit more exciting. Unfortunately, the pay is probably going to suck.”

Fortunately, Darla didn’t need the money as I did. Her family was much more forthcoming with a healthy allowance than Mother was. So much so, in fact, that every penny from the software she’d developed had gone into some fancy account to sit and gain interest. Her only real motivation for finding a job in the evenings was so that we could spend some extra time hanging out together. This was, after all, the last summer before we were to head off to college.

“More exciting than getting naked in front of perverts?” she asked after paying the cabbie and giving me a hug. “Surely that’s not possible!”

I took a few moments to explain the events of the day. I tried to highlight the more positive aspects like curing disease, but still needed to explain the whole sex situation since Darla would be meeting Jenna any minute. She would certainly need a bit of background information before experiencing her for herself. I did glaze over the part where the ultimate goal included relieving mankind of sexual hangups and inhibitions, though. She would definitely need more familiarity with everything before being able to see the beauty in that.

“This is all some pretty dangerous shit you’re talking about,” Darla noted. It was more of a statement than a suggestion that we probably shouldn’t be messing with such things.

“I know,” I said. “That’s why we need your expertise. There are only one or two people in the world who know more than you about interfacing between technology and the human nervous system.”

“Actually, there are eight people who know more,” she grinned, “but I’m better looking than the lot of ‘em!”

“Ain’t that the truth?” said Jenna, who had come out of Jiggy’s without my noticing. She extended her hand to Darla. “I’m Jenna Carlisle. Drew says that you’re the shit.”

“Nice to meet you,” Darla responded in kind.

“And this,” Jenna said as she waved at the unmoving, auburn haired woman dressed in a long overcoat beside her, “is Melinda McDaniel. Despite her appearance, she’s probably the least fucked up of all of my coconspira-sluts. Say hello to Drew and Darla, Lindy.”

The girl, about my age, moved rather like a robot as she extended her hand and said with a surprising lack of emotion, “Hello.”

“Shall we get started?” asked Jenna as she turned on her heels and headed toward the side door of the building.

IV.

Having spent a good portion of my available energy on fighting Mother’s will to turn me into a scientist, most of the finer points of just how this technology worked was lost on me. My strengths lay in organization and so I took it upon myself to begin cataloging and indexing the various tools, materials, and equipment that we had at our disposal up in Jenna’s penthouse. If, as I feared, we did fail at obtaining funding and support from NanTech, I would need to know what was on hand in order to help formulate a plan on how to use it all.

I never really understood nor appreciated the whole BioLink craze that was starting to sweep the country. Darla had had one installed almost a year before they hit the market due to her close association and part in developing the software to run the things. Mother had purchased one within the first week of wide distribution, for no other reason than that it was a piece of technology and she really got into that shit. Sure, it sounded nifty to be able to check e-mail, surf the web, change the TV channel, and various other mundane tasks with nothing more than a thought. I just didn’t see that the benefits of never losing your remote control would outweigh the creepiness of having a machine taking over a certain amount of the tasks that I enjoyed performing myself.

Watching the robotic efficiency of Lindy McDaniel as she read, catalogued, and indexed the individual features and settings available on each of the StareWare ROM chips we’d placed in front of her, I finally started to get it. She was doing in a matter of about 15 seconds what it probably would have taken me a half hour to do. Chip after chip, she sifted through the fray and instantly translated her data and notes onto my laptop computer. I wasn’t sure exactly what Jenna and her software had done to the poor girl’s brain to make her so autonomous and efficient, but I was grateful to have her help.

“I think,” said Darla as I continued to familiarize myself with the data Lindy was sending me, “the best way for me to get a handle on the forces at work here is to actually take a look at what’s going on in that head of yours, Jenna.”

“Won’t that expose you to the effects of it?” Jenna asked with a wince and a flick at her tender left nipple. She’d been going for quite a while, now, without having lost her train of thought at all—at least not visibly.

“It shouldn’t,” Darla explained. “I’m not looking inside your head. I’m going to BioLink into your PDA and watch the code execute.”

I jumped at the sudden movement beside me. Having finished cataloging the ROM chips, Lindy rose from the bed where we had been working and stood erect. Motionless, the robotic woman waited for her next command.

:“So you want me to fire it up right now?” asked the red haired woman with a sort of Pavlovian excitement plainly visible at the thought of running the software on herself.

Darla adjusted her horn rimmed glasses. “Yeppers. Whenever you’re ready.”

With a sort of nervous glance at me, Jenna asked, “Should I maybe go into the other room? I tend to get a little worked up and unpredictable when this thing is running.”

“I need to look at your physical reactions in order to really get a grip on what each piece of code is doing,” Darla said. “What sort of things are you going to do that you don’t want us to see?”

“At the very least,” Jenna explained, “you’re going to see me rip off a good portion of my clothes and masturbate myself. There’s a good chance that I’ll try to convince you all to lend a hand, too. I don’t think I’d try to force you into it, but I’m not sure—I’ve never done this with someone in the room who wasn’t receptive to that idea.”

“What if you and Lindy did it at the same time?” I asked, feeling sorry for the statue of a young woman standing beside me. “Couldn’t you sort of keep each other busy?”

Jenna nodded. “That would probably work, but I’m not sure. I wish someone had a better idea.”

“I might have one, Jenna.” It was the first time I had heard Lindy speak without first being spoken to directly by Jenna.

“Please do share,” said my mentor with another painful looking flick at her tit.

“While scanning the software,” the young girl stated with no hint of emotion, “I noticed that among the common settings for each was a diagnostic program that can be set to run alongside the main program. Upon checking just now, I realized that mine has been running all along. Shall I access the data and attempt to determine its value?”

As Lindy spoke, I noticed that the muscles in her legs seemed to be a bit uncomfortable—ever so slightly tensing and relaxing. Above and beyond whatever they’d done to her to turn the poor thing into a robotic servant, it looked like she had been given the same, or similar, sexual programming as Jenna. It was fascinating to watch the will of the ‘machine’ Lindy fight against the will of the sexual urges boiling inside of her. In contrast to Jenna, her mistress, Lindy’s will to serve and obey seemed much more powerful than the primal instincts of lust.

Sadly, it reminded me of my own internal battle of wills. As the muscles in her legs ever so slightly tensed in an effort to gain physical relief from the building lust in her loins, she reminded me that even on my best of days, that there was always some little bit of evidence of what influence my mother had over me.

“Hold that thought, Lindy,” said Jenna who closed her eyes and grew still. I could only assume that she was accessing her own programming via the BioLink in her neck in an effort to check out just what it was that Lindy was describing. My assumptions were confirmed when she spoke a moment later. “There’s definitely a shitload of data in there. I’m not sure what you can make of it, though. It’s greek to me.”

“Just so happens,” Darla smiled as she opened up the cover on her PDA, “that I speak Greek fluently. Can you send a dump of it over to my PDA so I can check it out? Lindy too? I’m still going to want to be able to gauge reactions in real-time, though. It’s... holy shit.”

Everything fell silent. Even from across the room, I could see the data flying by on the screen of Darla’s laptop as she utilized the power of her BioLink to process everything with amazing speed. No one dared speak until my friend was ready to explain just which piece of shit she thought was holy.

“I’ve got a better than good understanding of how the brain and central nervous system work,” she explained after thirty seconds or so. “The data and biofeedback in-and-of themselves aren’t particularly interesting, but when examined over time, the amount of variance is staggering.”

There was another moment of probably significant silence, but I felt the need to break it. “Can someone please tell me what the hell she just said?”

Darla nodded. In full scientific mode now, there was little of my warm, funny friend showing through and a whole lot of that girl who gets off on all things technological. “There are various connections within the brain called synapses. In simple terms, they are created and changed by what we experience. The way and the order in which those synapses fire make up our memories, life experience, personality, and how we react to things. Each new experience alters them and changes us over time. It’s normal to see variances over time, but it’s pretty slow and old, strong connections take years to break down. That’s why it’s so hard to break habits—the synapses we’ve built up over years of smoking, for example, don’t just go away when we try to stop. So, despite our conscious wishes, our brains keep trying to reach for that cigarette.”

I wasn’t sure I completely understood, even though she’d dumbed it down quite a bit and had probably sacrificed a certain amount of strict accuracy in favor of something that I might comprehend. I pretty much got the basic idea, though, so I nodded and tried to act like I got it.

“Over the week or so of data, here,” she continued, “not only are there whole new networks of synapses replacing ones that are completely gone, but it’s as if I’m looking at two completely different people.”

“I’ve definitely gone through a pretty significant behavioral and personality change,” said Jenna with yet another flick at her tit. They were coming in quicker succession now, but I hoped that once she turned on the software and let it run through, that it would sort of give her a reset.

“It’s more than that,” said Darla as she looked up at Jenna over the top of her glasses. “Tell me, what is your mother’s name?”

“It’s—I—erm...” Jenna faltered and tugged at the gold stud in her breast as if hoping the pain would bring an answer. “I can’t remember.”

It definitely wasn’t the answer I was expecting, and I was pretty sure that it wasn’t the answer Jenna was expecting, either. Darla seemed more fascinated than surprised.

Somewhere in the night, the Darkness laughed at me.