The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Master PC for Lovers”

(My thanks to JR Parz for letting people play in his Master PC universe. This story may be slow paced for some tastes, and I beg your pardon. Send your complaints and comments to )

1. Pillow Talk

He was wild and hard and I was hot and dripping wet, so I climbed up on top of him and wrapped myself around his cock. It was solid and warm and real and it belonged inside me. I covered his face with kisses. I loved him completely and I wanted him to feel that from the inside and know that it was true. He looked up at me and for a moment we stopped to take a breath and just smile at each other. His eyes were the most perfect shade of gray.

And then I started to move again, grinding my body against him. His cock was big knotted fist plunging deep into my soul. And when it moved! Perfect friction, the kind that starts fires.

“I love to fuck you,” he said, straining as he squirmed around. With his wrists caught in my hands, and his cock wrapped up in my pussy, he really wasn’t going anywhere. But he was going back and forth very nicely.

“You’d love to fuck anything that moves,” I said, enjoying his movements as he pretended to try to escape me.

“Yeah, ok,” He agreed, “but you most of all.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said, leaning up against him so that I would whisper in his ear. “I’m in charge now, and I say, you must confess to me.”

Then I turned my head so this my ear was next to his lips. He smelled like boy and man and lust and sweat all mixed together.

This of course, was the dangerous part of the game. He would confess some fantasy to me, always hoping that he didnt go too far and say something that offended me. Like his desire for a threesome. Or his fondness for thoughts of light BDSM play. Or just has fascination for tits. In each instance, I had acted properly apalled and made him suffer a bit in penance.

In the elaborate construction of our sex life, Ian was a wild adventurer and I was a bit prim and reserved, ever the good girl who has to be lured into temptation. It was just a fantasy, really, a consensus reality we had agreed to. Truth to tell, Ian was a bit timid about actually doing new sexual things. He had never been to an orgy or an SM dungeon party.

And I had never been very shy, not really.

I think that Ian had actually come to believe our construction, over time. Certianly we both had fun with it. Like the time I had let him “talk me into” having a quickie in the bathroom at his office, after hours. Or the time I had “reluctantly” tied him up and tortured him with feathers and clothespins. Or the blow jobs I had given him in odd corners at parties and family functions.

It worked for us.

And so he struggled more against my body, not really trying to get free, just trying to squirm enough so that his cock could move around in my pussy, grab a little friction and slicktion.

“C’mon baby” I said, loving the feel of him inside me. “Confess!”

It always took him some time to confess. After all, it had to be forced out of him, right? Because he didn’t want to tell me his dirty little fantasies. Except that he did. Boys love loved to share.

And I like to know. Knowledge is power, after all.

“Ive been reading mind control porn,” he said at last, sounding a little bit contrite. “Science-fictiony stuff. You know, people get hypnotized and dominated, and turned into robot sex slaves.”

“Oh wonderful, " I said, with my best sneer, “last time you wanted another girl, now you want a robot girl! Oh baby, baby, where am I gonna find you a robot girl?”

I started to move my hips, and whispered in his ear. “Does ‘mind control’ mean the girl has to obey your every wish? Like, she’s a pleasure slave, she lives only for you? And you give her orders, and she obeys? She has no choice? What would you tell her to do, Oh Master?”

And that, apparently, was enough, because right about then he started to thrust harder and harder up into me, and came inside of me at last. It was his second time that night, and a nice wrap up for an evening of good, old fashioned sex.

Then he kissed me in the that deliberate way he does after he comes. It was his way of saying he wasn’t just rolling over and going to sleep. When he was done with those kisses, he would roll over and go to sleep. Perfectly satisfied, I curled up against him as he started to really relax. He was asleep in no time. I laid my head against him and just smelled him for a moment. There’s nothing like a hot boy to nestle up against.

Especially if he is your boy.

Mind control porn? That was a new one. It seemed like an odd departure for Ian, actually. Sexual fantasies are always about unlikely things, of course, that’s the whole point. But Ian’s fantasies were usually possible as opposed to fantastical. Like the one about the cheerleader, I mean, how was Ian ever going to happen to meet a nymphomaniacal high school cheerleader? Seriously. I told him that if he ever came across her, he had my blessing. A lottery ticket gave better odds than that. But it could happen, couldnt it? It was possible.

Mind control and sex-robots were more than unlikely, though. They were totally impossible. At last, it seemed that Ian’s geeky science fiction novels and role-playing games had invaded his sexual fantasies. Or perhaps he was just admitting to it at last? If so, then I needed to know a lot more.

As we fell alseep, I resolved to read up on the matter.

A girl likes to know what’s up. After all, knowledge is power.

* * *

2. Me and my guy

Now, at the heart of this story, as is often the case with these kind of stories, there is a character flaw.

In this case, Mine.

You see, and here is my confession, I am a terrible snoop. It is sad but true, I am happy to uncover any and every secret in the lives of my loved ones, family, friends, and especially, my husband. I know much more than everyone thinks about, well, everything. It is just who I am.

Like, my friend Carolyn confessed to me that she was having an affair. She was very discrete in telling the strory, and I played dumb, but of course I already knew about it, and the man’s name, and a few details beyond that. I knew that my sister was totally bored with her boyfriend, though she had told no one. I knew that dear Mrs. Collins in apartment 5 was taking an awful lot of pills for a rather minor ankle pain.

Now, snoops can be a terrible bore, but I am discrete about it. And let’s face it, I don’t drink, and I’ve never done drugs, and I stopped being a total slut when I met Ian. I work hard all day and soap operas bore me. And everybody needs passions.

And so my wonderful husband Ian had very few secrets from me, if any. I knew where he hid things, and what, and why. I didnt just know his favorite bands and his favorite ice cream, any wife would know that stuff, I knew his favorite comic book superheros. I knew his favorite pornstars. I knew that he saved all the letters from his first girlfriend.

Boys are not as simple as they look. You can spend your life learning the details and keeping up with them. And I intended to keep up with Ian.

I know about the times he and his buddies went to the local strip clubs. I knew about the redhead in Las Vegas.

I even know he had a little fling the year before with Suzy Waters. Now to be honest, I had totally forgive him. It happened when we were going thorugh a rough patch and Suzy is a total tramp. Boys will be boys, after all. Still, if he ever gets me mad enough, I might just throw it in his face.

And boys have fantasies. Usually, sexual ones. There’s something about testosterone that keeps your eyes on the horizon, instead of the here and now. A boy can’t seem to fuck a girl without thinking of the next girl. You can’t just let them run wild, but you can’t crush their dreams either. Like a gorgeous mustang and a plucky cowgirl, you have to work out some compromises.

So like a Victorian explorer mapping the Congo, I explored Ian’s sexual fantasies. The threesome. The orgies. The lingerie and the handcuffs. The fetish magazines hidden in the closet. What can I say? I like to know what I’m doing. When I married Ian, I made a promise to myself that I would keep him sexually engaged and interested over the long term.

And I hand’t heard any complaints yet.

Truth to tell, Ian was a doll. He had a lean, wirey body that anyone would want to cuddle up to. He was tall but not obnoxiously so, and he had a relaxed manner that could put a guard dog at ease. Back in college, his shaggy bangs and straggly postmodern van dyke made him look like a stoner, but over the last few years, instead of outgrowing them he had sort of grown into them. If you know what I mean.

Ian has lovely hazel eyes to die for. I kid you not. I fell in love with him at a party one night in college and it took me ages to get his attention. He had that “starving skater boy” look that no girl can resist. I fell for him on the spot. He was a geeky computer boy, a hip skateborder, and a mad dancer. He played reasonable garage-band base. He was gentle and tough in all the right places. He was a little crazy, and a hopeless skirt-chaser, but that was all part of the charm.

He always smelled like home to me. We fit, somehow. And I aimed to keep it that way. I know what the divorce rate is in this country. If you want to keep what you have, you have got to be willing to work for it.

* * *

3. In Search of

A few days later I had a work-at-home day, so I took the opportunity to check out the browser trail on Ian’s computer. It wasn’t hard to find my way to the mind control porn, and read all about it. It was all wild sex fantasies and magic wish fufillment. You know, geeky boy gets bitten by a spider and gains the proportional horniness and sex appeal of a spider, starts seducing the various lolita centerfolds who just happen to live next door. I suppose if youre going to bother to have a fantasy, you may as well dream the whole shooting match.

He’d been haunting a website with hundreds of Mind control stories that were a bit better than the average porn, but I have to admit, I found a lot of it sort of strange. I mean, if a sixteen year old boy was granted infinite power, wouldn’t he become Superman or batman, and zoom around having adventures? That’s what I would have expected.

But in the world of Mind control fiction, the lucky boy mostly uses the power to sexually dominate his sister and his mother. Well, I thought, no one’s ever handed infinite power to a sixteen year old boy, so we’ll never know for sure.

Following Ian’s breadcrumbs, I found that he’d mostly been reading “Master PC” stories, a series of stories about a magic computer program that gives people total power over others. A few of them were pretty hot, actually, though they tended to be rather short and spare for my tastes. For me, porn is all about detail, context and character.

But what do I know? I wondered how I could work any of this into our sexlife. I doubted I would make a very good robot slave girl. I’ve never been a very good submissive, not for long. And you can’t exactly buy robo-bimbos at Sears. If I could hypnotise girls into sex-slaves and command them to service Ian, I probably would have done it. I was pretty sure hypnotism didn’t work that way though.

Besides, it struck me that if you could hypnotise people, or take over their minds, surely you would go to jail for doing it! I had fleeting images of “rogue hypnotist and Mind contol” wings of federal prisons. Guys in striped prison uniforms being forced to wear regulation mirrorshade sunglasses so they couldnt look a guard in the eye and take control...

Still, reading Ian’s porn was fun. It was a way to peak into his sex-brain, and that was always a good thing. When you jerk off to your lover’s porn, you know that you’re in contact with their dreams, somehow. Like wearing his boxers around the apartment.

And yet, a nagging thought kept bugging me. Hadn’t I heard of “Master PC” before? It seemed kind of familiar. But it really wasn’t my kind of porn. I do own every edition of Tristan Taormino’s “Best Lesbian Erotica” but I’m not sure that even counts as porn these days. I had a lovely collection of photos of the New York City SM scene, but Ian insisted that it was “artistic” rather than porn.

So mind control just hadn’t come up much in my reading till then. Still, I had heard of Master PC before, i was sure of it.

I went to the bedroom and pulled a vibrating dildo out of the toychest. The ivory plastic was cool to my touch. It was just what I needed.

I spread out on the bed and squirmed out of Ian’s boxers. In a few minutes, the vibrator and I were humming along together. I started by letting it drift across the soft skin of my inner thighs, where clothes and skin can rub when you walk. Then I circled slowly around my clit. I couldnt help but wonder, if Ian was offered magic wishes by some Master PC genie... what would he wish for?

Soon I was wet and ready, and I started to fuck myself with the vibrator, easy clean motions that felt good and somehow basic. This wasn’t sex, it was just some fundamental component. Like sipping vodka and thinking of martinis. Sometimes, you have to have something inside you.

I could imagine Ian—as a teenage boy, of course, to fit the conventions of the genre—stumbling upon some magic power and making his three wishes. Of course, he’d wish to be irresistible to all women. Then he’d wish to be the world’s greatest lover.

I stopped at two wishes—as far as I was concerned, Ian’s wishes had already come true.

With the vibrator deep inside me, I put one eager finger on my clit, and worked myself to happy orgasm.

Ian was certainly jacking off to these mind control fantasies, after all. And now I was learning too.

The next day I was working at the office, so I went to consult with my friend Maggie. I worked in for a big marketing firm, where I mostly made webpages and other documents for internal use. It’s the sort of terrible fate a girl resigns herself to if she’s not nerdy enough to be a technical whiz, not bimbo enough to be promoted for other reasons.

Maggie, however, is a technical wiz. She’s like the Dark Mistress of the internet, it obeys her. She handles network security and such for the company, and she knows all the dark secrets: spam, spyware, viruses, secret porn caches and forbidden media. Maggie knows where the data is hidden. She is totally my Willow (I get to be Buffy because I am taller).

“Hey Maggie,” I said when I found her in her cublicle, “Have you ever heard of something called Master PC?”

She looked up at me oddly through her owlish glasses. Maggie’s a small plump girl with a very friendly smile, but her eyes are always serious, somehow. She was really just a goth girl who was trying to grow up and hold a real job.

“Why do you ask? Were’d you hear about Master PC?” You could almost see the wheels turning in her head. I was startled by her intensity though. I hadn’t really expected her to know anything about it.

“Ian mentioned reading about it somewhere,” I said, “Why, what is it?”

“Master PC is an urban legend,” she said. “It’s a thing people whisper about, but you never really see. Like first season MST3k episodes.”

Usually, I can follow what Maggie is saying, but this time, she was losing me. “Well,” I said, “I just had the feeling I had heard it mentioned before, so I thought I’d ask you. You usually know these things, Maggie.”

She shrugged. “I might have mentioned it. People put junk master PC files into data caches all over the net. I have to clean stuff like that out from time to time so we can get some work done. They act like our network is secure, but let me tell you, no network is secure anymore.”

“Maggie, you’re losing me. I thought Master PC it didnt exist?”

“It doesnt, not really. It’s just a scam. But big files labelled ‘Master PC’ get passed around the internet. Junk data. garbage. Viruses. It’s a game people play. At this very moment, some shmuck is downloading Master PC onto his system and dreaming of cheerleaders.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a near whisper. “People are stupid,” she said.

I nodded. “Gotcha, Im caught up. Thanks Maggie.”

“I am are here to serve.”

“Hey Maggs,” I said , “When I get my copy of Master PC, what do you want to wish for?”

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “I’m still kinda busy spending my lottery winnings.”

We made lunch plans and I left her to her work. Still, I really wanted to know what magic wishes she would make. I suppose if you plopped a magic ‘Master PC’ program in front of anyone you’d get all kinds of surprises.

That night I went home and started to search the net for Master PC, following a few clues that Maggie had coughed up for me over lunch.

I’m not sure I can explain why I did it. I don’t really go in for magical thinking. I always figured, if you want something, you have to work for it, not wish for it. Sometimes, though, we do things because we have to, not because we really have a good reason why. My hunt for Master PC was like that. I did it on instinct.

But something drove me to keep at it. So when I had a few free minutes here and there, I would open my browser and track down another URL, another lead. They mostly led to missing websites and painfully gauche viagra spam. But I kept at it. I’ve never been one to give up easily.

It was a week later that I downloaded Master PC onto my computer, unpacked it, and installed it. And that’s when everything got weird.