The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Justin did not know where to turn, his “Michelle” (really our protagonist-Karen) was gone. All those months of hoping to bring her to some level of normalcy, in vain. He had no idea she was across town, in West LA posing as the erotic decoration in the bedroom of the well-to-do European shoe store owner, Isabelle.

Int. Isabelle’s apartment-West LA Night

Isabelle was spent, she’d tried every erotic trick in her lesbian repertoire, to pleasure Michelle. Michelle was pose-able and stayed in whatever position she was placed. Isabelle was intrigued. Why would this girl act so strange? Why did certain phrases cause her to behave like this? How had she gotten this way? And why was her make-up so tacky? Isabelle had some connections who owed her favors, and she’d call in a couple. First thing was to laser away the tacky permanent make-up, and get this girl some good grooming. Then she’d see her favorite gyno, and find out about getting that vagina back in working order.

Int. Beverly Hills Gyno- Day

“She’s had her vagina surgically shut, and her clitoris removed” said Dr. Drakos. “I don’t know anyone reputable who’d do such a thing, unless they’re part of some religious cult or maybe she spent time among tribes in Africa, or who knows, perhaps it was voluntary, anything is possible.” He continued. “She doesn’t say much, but her health is ok beyond that. I don’t see evidence of any tampering with her skull, but then we’d need a cat-scan to see if she’s been lobotomized, I just treat the vagina here.” He finished. “Can she be reconstructed?, re-opened, and have her clitoris replaced?” pleaded Isabelle. “It’s experimental, but re-opening her vagina to a normal circumference can be done out patient.” said Dr. Drakos. He exited for a moment.

“I want her physically back the way she’s supposed to be, but I can’t imagine how to bring back whatever personality she might have had..” Isabelle thought aloud. Michelle smiled blankly at the woman who had been so nice to her of late. The Dr. returned and handed Isabelle a card, a prominent behaviorist.

In the coming several weeks Isabelle had Michelle working out, and getting laser tattoo removal. She was starting to look even more like the old Karen, but buff. Isabelle had learned Michelle responded to some training with amazing results. If she said “read and memorize” Michelle could learn a language quickly. She seemed to know Tagala already and was able to pick up French.

With her vagina open, she was able to receive pleasure again in her “g” spot, much to Isabelle’s and her mutual pleasure. Her past was still a mystery, and her memory fuzzy. When Isabelle watched a special on hypnosis, something clicked.

“Subjects are put into a deep trance” said the narrator, and Michelle froze. “I await your commands” spoke Michelle. Isabelle was stunned. She muted the tv. “Whose commands, who are you?” she asked. “I am a doll, a toy for Filipina’s amusement. I am addicted to being humiliated and must serve my mistress. My only pleasure is to pleasure my Filipina mistress.” This was all she’d answer, then she’d repeat it in Tagala. Now it made sense, Michelle had been the hypnotized sex toy of some Filipino Woman. “What commands do you already have?” Asked Isabelle. “I crave humiliation, I obey without question, I exist to pleasure my mistresses, and need to cleanse them with my tongue. I am their human toilet, not worthy except to serve and obey. My only thoughts are those given to me. I am a doll, a mannequin, a robot.” Isabelle was getting somewhere now.

For over a year of her life, Karen, now called Michelle, had been on the medications and hypnosis regimen, started by Rhonda James, then given to the Filipinas, passed onto the Nail Salon owner, and then found by Justin, who thought he had somewhat deprogramed her. She was now being treated with some kindness and better treatment by her newfound lover, Isabelle. After laser surgery removed the permanent makeup blush and toned downed her slutty look, her clitoris was restored to a more sizable and sensitive replacement. Between working out, and eating right, she was hotter than she’d ever been, albeit still not anywhere near her former self mentally.

She still hardly spoke, except when spoken to, and until Isabelle found a competent deprogrammer, she’d pose when she heard trigger phrases, and still responded to Tagala on the TV. Isabelle pleasured herself with Michelle (Karen) whenever she wanted, and it wasn’t long before she found herself bored with her lack of personality. She wanted more stimulating conversation, and she began to see other women. She’d have Michelle go into maid mode when she went out, and come back to a clean apartment. Isabelle began to get used to Michelle as an object/servant/sextoy, and her former intense desire to restore Michelle to her former self was moving toward the back burner. After all, she had a totally fit, strong, tan beautiful woman who not only obeyed her every command, but after she had gotten off, she could switch her off and sleep, or have her act as a maid. Like a friend of hers had suggested, what if Michelle wasn’t really a lesbian at all, but a little housewife that pissed somebody off, and ended up hypnotized and punished for her trouble. Who knew what her background was, or if the permanent make-up was her idea or not?

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER

Even Isabelle, meaning well at first, had fallen susceptible to the drunkenness of total control. She was showing off Michelle to a new girlfriend, trying to impress her. The girl was a lot younger than her and fairly kinky herself. “Watch this” said Isabelle. “Michelle, come here,” she said. Michelle obediently stood in front of Isabelle and her guest, Tanitia. “Mannequin” said Isabelle. Michelle froze into pose. “Wow, your maid is hot!” squealed Tanitia. “How long will she pose like that?” she asked. “As long as I want” answered Isabelle. “Can you make her do stuff?” asked Tanitia. “What would you like me to have her do, go down on you?” asked Isabelle. “I was hoping YOU were going to do that, actually, I’d like to see her do something more humiliating, really. She’s so hot, and fit, I just wanna put her in her place, you know what I mean?” asked Tanitia. “I mean, she looks like a perfect housewife, never did anything but go to the gym and get tan, I want her to treat me like an ebony queen and submit to me.” said Tanitia. “Wow, you really are a bit kinky aren’t you? Well it’s just for fun, it’s not like we’re doing anything she hasn’t done before.” said Isabelle. “Now the truth comes out, you sexy bitch, you’ve ordered her around too, you like it.” said Tanitia.

“Michelle, you will grovel and submit to Tanitia, and treat her as an ebony goddess!” commanded Isabelle. Michelle looked at the young dark beauty and a look of utter servitude came over her face. Her tall perfect body tanned and strong, was now sinking to the carpet and onto her knees. She crawled to Tanitia and looked up at her with a helpless pleading look in her eyes. “Treat her as you treated your Filipina mistress!” Barked out Isabelle with excitement. ’ “I am a doll, a toy for your amusement. I am addicted to being humiliated and must serve my mistress. My only pleasure is to pleasure my mistress.” She knelt and began to lick the top of Tanitias pump clad foot. Her superlong tongue glided over the girl’s foot, in total submission. " Yeah, submit, bitch, but I don’t get off with my feet, though. I mean I appreciate you’re only good enough to grovel at my feet, but it ain’t getting me off. " said Tanitia. She stood up and with her other foot pushed Michelle over to her back, where she laid still, staring up at her. She took off her skirt and pulled off her panties. She dropped them onto Michelle’s face. “Sniff that bitch, then beg for the real thing, I want you to beg me to probe my ass!” It was almost too much for Isabelle, but it was getting her hot as well.

Tanitia stood with one foot on Michelle’s chest an the other on the floor. “I am your object of worship! You submit to me, you’re nothing but a tool for my pleasure, not good enough to lick my front, understand!” shouted Tanitia. Michelle quivered in anticipation of humiliation, as Tanitia re-positioned herself to squat over her face, inching ever closer. “You are going to be honored to worship my ass.” said Tanitia. She made contact with Michelle’s face and let her tongue ease it’s way to her target. “Damn this girl’s got a long old tongue!” she squealed. Michelle’s body was motionless, except for her head, servicing the young beauty. Isabelle was getting very turned on. “Take it further, she said, how far can you take it?” she inquired. “Oh, I have a surprise for you,” said Tanitia. She put most of her body weight on Michelle’s face, blocking her air. Michelle twitched a little but did not put up a fight. Tanitia was going to cut off her air just enough to knock her out, then revive her and do it again. Michelle, twitched a little more as she approached unconsciousness. She went limp. Up jumped Tanitia, who whipped around and SLAPPED Michelle across the face. “Wake up! Don’t sleep on the job! Who do you serve, who do you OBEY! A groggy Michelle stirred, craving the humiliation. “I obey you, I serve you.” she said. Again Tanitia repeated the process, three more times. Michelle was knocked out 3 times, Tanitia came as many. Isabelle was wet.

“Okay, Okay, that’s good. Don’t give her brain damage.” Said Isabelle. Michelle groggily looked up at the ebony beauty. “Mistress, I enjoy your humiliation, how else can I serve you?” she whispered, exhausted.

“That’s not the first time you’ve played that game is it?” Asked Isabelle? Tanitia Smiled and replied. “No, actually. I got into domination last year, and have been having a lot of fun with it. It’s pretty empowering. I had heard about couples really getting into it, but never met anyone so in character as your little friend here.” she admitted. “I think it’s more than just in character.” explained Isabelle. “She wanderd into my store near the beach a few months ago, looking a bit sluttier, and displaying some interesting behavior toward a Filipino Woman buying shoes. She then serviced me like I’d not felt before and I was in lust. I’ve tried to get her back to normal as much as I could, but I have put it as a lower priority lately. I guess I got bored with the ease of controlling her. We don’t really talk, there’s not a lot going on upstairs, y’know.” she continued. “I think she was more than just hypnotized, it’s like she’s been totally brainwashed, and repeatedly. She IS a walking mannequin/robot. I have no idea if she even has a recollection of who she used to be. I’d hate to have to lose her and hire a real maid though, at this point... and that tongue.” she stopped.

“You mean this bitch is for real? Not an actor friend of yours?” said Tanitia, astonished. “Shit, she really is under your control? Totally? That is sooo hot!, I mean, there are moral issues if you really want to explore them, but shit. You do have it made.” she finished.

Michelle was still on the floor, compliant. “Stand at attention” said Isabelle. Michelle rose to her feet and stood. Her tanned, muscular perfection glistened with perspiration. Her clear eyes stared ahead at nothing, her complexion was perfect. “Michelle, do you remember the first Filipino women who programmed you? asked Isabelle “Yes Ma’am.” answered Michelle. “What were their names?” she inquired. “Connie, Ursula, and Ling are my Filipino mistresses, I am their property to loan out as they wish.” she said. “Are you still with them?” Isabelle inquired. “No Ma’am, I was told to worship Ma Ling as I would my Programmers and service her clients.” she said in reply. “What did you do for her?” Asked Tanitia. Michelle described her duties Ma Ling programmed into her, like cleaning, servicing the client’s feet and her bathroom duties, as well as being the store mannequin until she woke up at Justin’s one day. She relayed Justin teaching her to read, and how they were soul mates, according to Justin, etc.

While she was under, Isabelle and Tanitia decided to try to get Michelle to forget everything she was told by the Filipinas, and about Justin, and that she was and had been Isabelles loyal lover for some time. They were hoping to undo the more twisted aspects of her programming and give her some semblance of a life and personality, building on what Justin did as far as reading, writing, cooking, etc. After Tanitia left, Isabelle spent the rest of that weekend trying to give Michelle some aspect of her personality back, without losing her as a lover/maid. She discovered that Michelle was not her real name, only given by Justin, so by reaching way back, she was able to ascertain Michelle overhearing a reference to “Karen”. She assumed that might be her real name, and it suited her more anyway. Karen was back to being Karen, again, at least in name.

Karen was physically in better shape than she’d ever been. Thanks to Isabelle putting her on a good diet, and fitness regimen, and fixing her cosmetically, Karen was a striking beauty again. Her mind however was still far less than it was. Her conscious memories of her life now went back only as far as when she met Isabelle, and while she could read, speak a couple languages and cooked, cleaned, did pedicures, and massage, she thought of nothing else. She had no dreams, aspirations, or recollection of her childhood, teen years, or parents and family. For she consciously knew, she awoke and came into existence to be Isabelle’s servant and lover. Isabelle was kind to her, for the most part, except for the evening of kinky excess with Tanitia, who turned out to have way to much baggage to see anymore anyway.

Whatever conscience Isabelle had, she felt Karen might be with her only because she had no choice, or will of her own, not because she truly cared for her. It was fun for a while but again became somewhat incomplete. She made a major decision to try and help her plaything/lover/maid. Even if it meant setting her free. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

DR. DRAKOS’ OFFICE

“I’m a physician, and while I can make Karen’s body well, I am not a trained psychiatrist.” Said Dr. Drakos. “Take her to see a specialist, here’s a card.” “Thank you Dr.” said Isabelle, “I hope she’ll still want to be with me when we reveal her identity completely.” she answered. “I only hope you are happy Isabelle, I have never said anything one way or the other about your lifestyle, you know you’re like a daughter to me, I’ve treated you since you were a teen.” said the good doctor. He gave her a re-assuring hug and sent her on her way.

INT THE PSYCHIATRIST-

Because of Karen’s striking beauty, a heterosexual male shrink would no doubt be tempted to take advantage of Karen, and the women shrinks that Isabelle knew, well, let’s face it, they went into the biz because of the baggage they carried. Have you ever met a psych major who wasn’t a bit wacko herself? She picked a gay male hypnotist, with no interest in Karen, who Isabelle felt comfortable with. He did well in the interview and seemed to have no ulterior motives. He agreed to begin immediately.

THE SESSIONS

“Karen, I want you to completely relax, go into a deep trance,” said David. Karen immediately went into state, her eyes blank, her jaw slack. Her tanned perfect body stiff in the chair. “That was quick, good girl!” exclaimed David. “Now we are going to feel a little pin prick, but it’s not painful, just to help you go deeper.” he said as he administered some sodium pen Athol.

Karen slumped in the chair, the drug taking effect. “Now Karen, do you have a last name?” he asked. “I am Karen, ummm, Karen.” she slurred. She wasn’t under deep enough, she had to go back over a year and a half now, to memories that had been systematically erased, drugged over and erased again. She had to go past over 547 days of programing to be submissive, dream training, drug induced commands, and daily rituals of submission and humiliation. She had been a submissive, a robot, a mannequin, a maid. She had been sewn shut and denied pleasure, and had gone down on more women in the past year and a half, whether vaginally, analy or just servicing their feet, than most people would meet in a lifetime.

She knew her place as a human doormat, and thought nothing. She parroted back the commands of whoever had the triggers to send her into state, but her mind never drifted to other thoughts, her own thoughts. She had been on the medications for so long, her natural brain chemistry had been changed to the neural pathways of complete and total submission, pliability and obedience. She was there organically, but her brain was functioning more as a short term recording device than as a thinking instrument. It was going to be an immense challenge for David to dig deep enough to discover who she was, if he could, and bring those faint remnants of her former self to the surface without her having a complete and total nervous breakdown. What if he could get the original Karen back? The sweet natured girl next door who had modeled her way through college and become excellent at sales? If David only knew: How would this woman react to the knowledge she had been the crotch craving, sole-licking, anal worshiping submissive to strange and angry women for the last 18 months? Would she be despondent that her fiancée ended up in the arms of a little Filipino flight attendant who consoled him when she had “left him”? He was now under her thumb somewhere, dealing with her ill temper.

Karen was slumped in the chair, awaiting further questions from David. “Karen, when did you first find yourself attracted to women?” he asked. “I had a crush on a babysitter when I was young. She was blonde, with an hourglass figure and had a dark tan. I would sit at her feet and massage them until she fell asleep. Then I would kiss them and pretend she was a princess and I was her scrub maiden.”

“Interesting,” Thought David, she always HAD been attracted to women, had a foot fetish, was submissive by nature. He was unaware these thoughts had been placed by Rhonda James, who recreated Karen’s mind and memories from conception on. “Did you have any experiences with girls growing up?” he probed. “I would get wet in the shower at gym class, always watching the stronger looking blonde girls, whose thick calves and larger bodies make my knees weak.” I did not approach them, but would fantasize about my babysitter constantly, masturbating compulsively, wanting to be at her feet, below her, worshipping her.” Karen answered.

David was becoming convinced that maybe Karen was always into women, into blondes, into feet, and into submission. The fact she had ended up a mannequin at a nail salon may have been her searching for more and more thrills by giving up more and more control to other women. The fact that bothered him was that Filipinos weren’t normally blonde, something didn’t fit. How would she have gone from a life-long interest in submitting to bigger blonde gals to the humiliation she experienced at the hands and feet of very petite Pacific Islanders? What triggered the change in taste, and allowed her to become solely dependant on the whims of these other women? As a long term mannequin in deep trance, she quite literally could have been starved to death, or become permanently catatonic, unable to snap out of trance, helpless.

The trim, muscular, tanned, fat-free, flawless beauty in front of him, belied that she ever could have been anything but the ideal gal next door. Yet her secret fantasies made him more curious. “Karen, who was the first Filipino woman you found yourself attracted to?” asked David. “I was the doll/robot to my mistresses Ling, Connie, and Ursula. I needed to worship their feet and be humiliated by them. I am inferior to their dark skinned beauty, and am worthy only of being their doormat and human toilet.” Karen said robotically. David was flabbergasted. How did they do this, he wondered. “Karen, how did you come to know them? What do you remember?” he pleaded.

“I was in their apartment, I was instructed by Ling to learn my place. She was displeased with me and made it clear I needed to be humiliated. I craved humiliation, I was addicted to being her servant and doormat. Her scents were addictive, I gave her complete control of my body, and my mind accepted her suggestions without question. I was a maid, but became a doll, whose mission was to please her Filipino mistress.” she said. David jumped out of his seat, he lifted the long shining brown hair from Karen’s neck, and there he saw...track marks. She had been systematically drugged and conditioned, with injections to the base of her skull. Fascinating.

“Karen, you are no longer a doll. You are no longer susceptible to the commands of Filipino women, do you understand? You are no longer a robot, but are a flesh and blood woman. I would guess your age to be your early 30’s. You are not a doll, or a mannequin.” On the word “mannequin” Karen went into pose, and froze. David wasn’t sure what to do. She had her head cocked and her mouth open, a blank look on her face. She was motionless. He tried again.

“You are NOT a mannequin, now or at all! Snap out of it!” He exclaimed. Not knowing that was one of her oldest triggers, to snap out of trance, from her earliest hypnosis sessions, she became loose and limber again, and appeared conscious. “Can you hear me now? Karen?” he asked. Karen seemed fairly lucid. “Yes” she said. “Good, now I want you to go back under for me.” “Under?” she said. “Deep trance” was David’s reply. Karen went deeply back into trance again.

“Karen, you are no longer susceptible to Tagala, or the commands of the Filipino females who had controlled your body and mind, do you understand?” he said. “Yes, I understand.” she said softly, almost sadly. “You are flesh and blood, a human being with your own thoughts and desires, your own dreams, like you were before you met the Filipino women who enslaved you. You don’t remember being humiliated by them or being anything like a doll or under their control, do you understand? Those memories are being erased, for good. You could not remember them again under any circumstances, you just revert to the person you were BEFORE you met the Filipinas. Are you in agreement? Karen?” he asked. She was silent for a moment, as her mind, abused, drugged, reprogrammed and conditioned accepted these new ideas.

“Uuungh,” she groaned. “Karen”, said David emphatically, listen to me, you are who you were before. Before you met the 3 girls, before they gave you ideas, before you met them. Before, Karen, before. Let’s go back to the night before. What did you do the NIGHT before you met them?” asked David.

“I was in bed, dreaming. I had a lot of dreams before I met them, always erotic, I would awake to an orgasm and sleep again, to dream again.” Said Karen. “Hmmm, I wish I had that problem,” said David. “What did you dream?” he inquired. “I would always enter the athletic blonde’s apartment, wearing a maid uniform, and when I found her stockings piled up, ready to wash, I would bury my face in them, adoring their scent, wanting the real things against my face. I would then wake up, orgasm, and go back to sleep, and dream again.” she said.

“What would you dream then?” he asked. “I dreamt I was at her feet, waiting on her. Her blonde hair was pulled up, her body tan, glistening with perspiration, I would remove her keds, which she wore sockless, and gaze upon her beauty. I would ask her if she wanted a footrub, to which she’d answer yes, and I’d wake up and orgasm. Then I would fall asleep and dream again.” she said. To David, it seemed par for the course, after all she had been fantasizing about blondes since her childhood. “What did you dream then?” asked David. “I dreamt that I was again in her apartment, wearing only a black bikini and lots of baby oil. I had a collar attached to my neck and she held a leash. With a quick jerk on the leash I would drop to my knees and crawl to her, I would be very wet, awaiting a command from the athletic blonde. I’d ask how I could serve her and she’d answer ‘you can start by kissing my ass’ I’d pull her sweats down to expose her glorious ass and before I could place a kiss on it I’d awake in orgasm.”

David had heard enough. Apparently this gal had always liked women, liked blondes, had a foot fetish, and had been having erotic dreams about blonde women before the Filipino girls had drugged and brainwashed her into being their puppet. She might have never acted on the fantasies, but David was fully convinced this gal was into gals from day one, and more power to her. It was easy enough for the other women to have taken her fantasies and given them more power by making them a reality and getting her to substitute her longing to submit to athletic blonde women for themselves. With the right drugs, sleep deprivation, and repeated hypnosis, they could have made her into exactly what they wanted, and apparently had. She had wandered into Isabelle’s shop on foot, and probably had been held nearby, or had she been with that guy after the women? It was so complex he thought.

“Karen” asked David. “Where did you live before you met the Filipinas? “What Filipinas?” she asked. “That’s right, he had cleared her of that, shit.” “Let me rephrase that Karen, where did you live when you had your erotic dreams about the athletic blonde?” Karen smiled “I lived at the beach” she said.

“Very good” said David. “Do you remember the address?” he asked. “I had just moved there, I don’t remember the address. I don’t remember.” “Strange,” thought David. She must have either not lived their long enough, or perhaps the 3 women had erased her memory of her old address to keep her from wandering home after they had taken control of her. It made sense, that she only knew of the inside of their apartment as home, so she wouldn’t leave and blow it for them.

David continued until the end of the day, feeling confident that Karen had always liked women, especially blondes, and that her dating/living with Isabelle was fine. After bringing her out of trance, he had Isabelle pick her up.

A DAY AT THE BEACH

Since the intensive therapy with David, Karen seemed much more like a person, than a robot, she and Isabelle had a nice girl/girl relationship, and Isabelle got Karen interested in the same music, arts, and movies she liked. They went to concerts and movies, and Karen got to meet all Isabelle’s friends. She had become a very likeable, while not “Miss Personality” certainly had a lot in common with her lover, and was always agreeable.

One especially lovely day, Isabelle decided to take a half day and take Karen to the beach. It was an unusually warm day late in the year, and seemed like a good reward for all her progress. They parked their car in front of a familiar apartment building, familiar to fans of Rhonda James, that is, while Isabelle fed the meter, then rooted through the trunk for towels and chairs, Karen stood on the passenger side of the car. Back from her now 45 minute brisk walks on the beach, a sweat drenched Rhonda James came around the corner and who did she see standing near a car, in front of her building? No one else but her old neighbor Karen! She had looked like a platinum blonde mannequin the last time she saw her, now she looked more beautiful than ever.

Isabelle dropped her keys into the mess that was her trunk and was digging for them. She finally got them, both chairs, and both towels, magazines and water ready. She slammed the trunk lid. “Sorry that took so long baby” she said. Karen was nowhere to be found.

UPSTAIRS ON RHONDA’S BALCONY

Karen stared straight ahead, eyes blank, face expressionless, as Isabelle panicked downstairs, only yards away. She didn’t hear her, she stood at attention, listening only to the voice of her one true operator, the only voice she could hear now, and would hear for some time. Rhonda’s sneaker was over Karen’s nose and mouth as Rhonda James whispered. “Welcome back Karen, you are now going to stay here, and surrender total control of your mind and body to me again, do you understand?” “Yes Ma’am. Total control to Rhonda James, my one true operator.

Rhonda quietly opened her door and pointed inside, Karen walked mechanically inside. Karen was back, and Rhonda planned on keeping her this time.