The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sophia Garland’s research notes

Case: Juliet Ferry, day 17

Finally, some unquestionably positive news. After dinner yesterday, I took advantage of Juliette’s lactation trance to program her in two ways. First was to strengthen her bond to me. I told her she loved me and my protection, and I drove the point home for her body by extensive fondling and cuddling. And her body listened, as it grew softer under my caress over the duration of her lactation. Ideally, I’ll condition her to lose all sense of privacy around me. This will make experimenting easier, and distrust harder.

The second way was building some elements of her new persona. She was successfully dissociated with Juliet, but I must make sure to raise her into a safely controllable servant. Her breakdown was largely about fears of experimental abuse, but it crystallized around the need for surgery. By making her love her attractive body, I’ll reduce the chances her subconscious will remind her what she truly wanted. Plus, it gives her a reason to be happy besides cleaning. She needs passions, or she’ll see the cage’s bars.

Those two changes took well. Juliette seemed very happy to see me while she was cleaning the kitchen this morning, and flashed her cleavage to me several times. I suppose blank memories make the programming easier to take. Since I’m talking results, analysis of the milk proved the correlation between happiness and Shinjuku particle stabilization. The rush provided by cleaning improved it well in excess of the original levels. This charade has a definite point, at least.

I’ll take it slow and easy for the coming days. Let Juliette grow into her role. Hopefully she’ll stabilize. I really do not want to think about more drastic changes, especially not given how easily programmable she is. It is no exaggeration to think I could install literal program into her at this point.

Juliette’s journal

Day 4 after surgery

I feel great! I still can’t remember much from before the surgery, but other than that, I’m so glad I went through with it. I’m just the cutest now! I kind of wish Mistress had visitors so I can make the most of this sexy feeling. Oh, I would never do that thing, and I’m not exactly craving for attention. I just want to feel more like a good maid.

Like, it’s so much better than wet nurse! It’s humbling, of course, but it’s nothing like Cinderella. She lets me clean at my own pace, and I certainly don’t need to be whipped around. I feel useful, tidy, pretty...It’s a special role to fill, a sexy, submissive role, but damn if it isn’t so satisfying somehow. It’s like the mansion itself is my beloved child. Calling Lady Sophia Mistress has really grown on me, too. She’s so nice, so noble. I’m giving my life to her, and I guess my whole body is telling me I’ve made the right choice. If only I could remember when I made it...

Oh, hey, the snow’s falling! There’s only a tiny window opposite my desk in the maid’s room, but taking a break from writing made for a nice surprise! I’ll go see it in the library. Comfiest place in the manor! I’ll do some dusting while I’m at it.

Sophia Garland’s research notes

Case: Juliet Ferry, day 17

God damn it.

I found Juliette in the library, sitting in a corner an looking distressed. I walked in and asked her what was wrong. The following I write from memory.

“I d-don’t know, Mistress. The snow was so p-p-pretty to look at. The countryside turning all white, the calm, the t-t-tranquility. Everything made dusting even b-b-better, yet...I felt worse and worse as time went on, I ha-have no idea why...”

“Alright, take deep breaths, it will pass.”

“O-ok-kay...Haaaaaaa...pshhhhhh...”

“I am fairly positive I know what happened. You simply remembered about our dying world. Tokyo, the crisis’ epicentre, has been thrown so out of order that snow will fall even in July.”

“...Oh...Yes, that...Does sound familiar.”

“Everyone on Earth is afraid. I would only expect you to be more so, being Syndrome stricken. You simply remembered our burden after a few idyllic days. Nothing abnormal or sick about that. You are simply kind.”

“Th-thanks...”

She seemed to calm down afterwards, thankfully not remembering the full extent of her fears. As a safety precaution, however, I opted to interrogate her under lactation trance.

“What do you remember about the end of the world, Juliette?”

“Huuuh...Syndromes...No cure...Huh...Asia is almost dead...Big cities all dead...”

“Do you feel responsible for it?”

“Yes...”

And there you have it. Though she cannot remember her concerns, or even its context, her subconscious mind can. This considerably hinders any plans to leave her intelligent and autonomous. Simply working on her memories isn’t enough. After all, isn’t suppressing negative thoughts the root of mental illnesses? Right when Cambridge is deploying the first live trials, too.

Influencing and obfuscating isn’t enough. If I cannot lead her mind to purify itself, I will ensure it. I have just injected the subject with potent lactation-inducing chemical and improvised a computer programming interface. I must seize reliable control of her mind if I am to enforce her happiness. Let’s see if her Syndromic trance goes deep enough to computerize her mind.

Juliette’s subdued consciousness felt that the nap was over and that the human would soon take over the cow. A painful prick in her neck seemed like it would speed up the process, but instead of an adrenaline surge, Juliette was hit by a relaxing wave. She thought she had given a lot of milk, yet the gentle pressure in her voluptuous melons told her to get ready. So she slipped back into unconsciousness, riding the tender contractions starting anew.

She was much too focused to be aware of the electrodes and scanners attached to her temples and forehead. Her brainwaves were being read with great efficiency, CT scans and MRIs alike having been long rendered obsolete. They recorded her entire brain’s reaction to the milk letdown. When the pumps started coaxing it out, they recorded her euphoria and trance.

Sophia, observing the results in another room, knew this was the point of no return. There was no way she could dissect Juliet’s mind so thoroughly and still expect to give an inkling of care about her freedom in the long term. Already, she was devising several plans to take complete control of her subjects’ mind. Her first plan was to make her a simple and straight human robot, suppressing all independant thoughts by negative feedback until she accepts the set subroutines as her true self. Her second was to leave her human but completely dependent and pliable. A pet. This seemed more appropriate.

Whatever the case, she needed to computerize her maid’s mind first. So she set out working on the data, isolating hormonal and neural stimuli for wanted responses. When she was done with Juliette’s baseline reaction to milking, Sophia ordered her robot butler to put the VR set on the subject’s eyes. She needed to record the exact brain patterns related to the Apocalypse before trying to convince Juliette is was no grave matter. Then, she showed her images of breasts and milk. With those and a dozen others, Sophia needed to use three shots of lactation serum before she had a satisfyingly exhausting list of cause/effect links.

She finally put poor Juliette out to sleep, then prepared for an all-nighter devising the golden cage she would soon install in her servant’s mind.

“How do you feel, Juliette?”

The busty maid’s eyelids fluttered open, and her eyes rolled around in confusion a few times before lying on the familiar figure on her bedside. Was she talking to her?

“Hello, Mistress. What...Happened?”

“I helped you, of course. How do you feel?”

“Huuh...Okay?”

Juliette felt really strange. Not in a bad way, but it was like she was floating somehow. Everything felt so light, and there was an important something that wasn’t there. She wanted to answer her kind Mistress and tell her as much, but she had no idea how to begin. Instead, she just kind of looked around aimlessly, waiting for the missing something to jumpstart. To help the process along, the maid sat up on the edge of the bed.

But nothing really came in a few minutes. Eventually, Juliette’s big, confused eyes met Mistress’, hoping she could answer. Mistress smiled.

“It’s alright. I didn’t make you that dumb. Your higher thought processes are dramatically slowed. More specifically, synaptic responses are delayed in exponential proportion to their complexity. Your conscious, constructed thoughts are now sluggish at best, and so slow you won’t remember why you attempted them before reaching anything significant. You’ll think and talk a lot more freely if you don’t try to be smart.”

“Huh?”

Something was wrong. Mistress’ big words had slipped right through her. Juliette caught some of the meaning, but was about as sure as a student caught sleeping.

“But...Smart is g-good?”

“Not when you’re a milky cow that needs to be happy all the time so she can save the world with her milk.”

Juliette understood much better this time, but she wished she hadn’t. A somber feeling sprang from the depths of her heart, and an icy shiver took over her body.

“That’s right,” coldly said Lady Sophia. “I am making you my mindlessly happy cow, because nobody has the time to properly counsel you while the world is dying.”

“What...No, Mistress, p-p-please, I’m...”

Mistress shoved something in the panicking maid’s field of vision. A card with strange, scintillating colors.

“Huuh?”

A thin trickle of drool dripped from the corner of Juliette’s mouth as her eyes were glued to the funny picture. Seeing it sent...Something in her brain. Something that made it all tidy. When it went away, Mistress was looking at her. Juliette smiled.

“Oh, hello, Mistress!”

“Hello, my pretty maid. We’re going to have a lot of fun today.”

“A-are we?”

Juliette felt a soft caress through the soft black fabric cradling her sensitive jugs. She was tempted to look down, but...The touch was so gentle, delicate and caring. Of course it had to be Mistress. Juliette met her piercing, bright gaze and got lost in it. She didn’t need to see her hands anyway, as the caress felt amazingly good and sent her whole body aflutter.

“Yes. Don’t try to think too much, you’ll only get frustrated and feel bad again. Just listen to your body. You love it when I caress your big, soft tits, don’t you Juliette?”

“Haa...Yeah...”

“You love having these huge, sensitive jugs for Mistress to play with, don’t you? I bet you’d want nothing more than me tying you up and fondling your tits all night so you would come with them over and over again. Milk would come but you wouldn’t even care, even if you’re naked and it spills all over. Because then...”

Mistress’ lewd teasing made the poor maid quiver and moan just listening to it, pushing rational though beyond her severely dimmed mental ability. When Mistress slid a hand under the laced skirt and gave a stroke to her twitching, dripping womanhood, the maid orgasmed almost as hard as her very first time. She arched her back, threw her head backwards, and let out a crazed, screaming moan that was only reduced to a gargle because Mistress was already talking.

“...You’d get to clean.”

“Haaah...Haaiiii...Mistress...I love...C-c-clean...”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Sophia started to massage Juliette’s breasts with both her hands again, staring intently into her victim’s eyes to look for any trace of conscious thought. There was none.

“Go clean. You can try thinking—you won’t. Cleaning is the highest aspiration of your being now.”

“...Huh?”

“Nothing.” Replied Mistress, playfully spanking Juliette’s butt. “Go work and come to my lab when you’re done. It’s obvious now you can be programmed, so I’ll give you something to auto-regulate.”

“Yes Mistress...” Whispered Juliette, distracted, still swimming in the afterglow. “Clean...” Still, she did not forget to take her feather duster. “Cleaning is the b-best. Wheeeee...”

Months later, the perfected Juliette avidly listened to Mistress’ latest tales of her enslavement.

“So, huh, what did you do, Mistress?”

“I made it hard for you to think anything beyond the simplest cravings. For all intents and purposes it didn’t make escape impossible, but other factors made it exceedingly unlikely. One, it made shallow, carnal thoughts much easier to come by in comparison, and that included how you came to associate submission with pleasure after your first remodel. Second, I had shattered all remaining shyness you had, and in particular made you love breast fondling. All it would realistically take to calm you down after an episode was to play with your udders until your shallow, horny cow took over. And finally, I had linked a certain visual stimulus to a complete purge of your short term memory, effectively creating a hard reset button. Did you get any of that?”

“Not one bit!”

“Good girl. In any case, this was, basically, your birth.”

“But, like, you were super lewd, no? You’re u-u-usually so cool and smart!”

“Yes, I went out of my way to shock you and test how much your new brain gravitated towards shallow, horny grounds. You did not disappoint. The system was in place. The only real difference between you in that moment and you now was inertia.”

“In her wha?”

Juliette giggled as her hands flew instinctively to her needy breasts.

“Nature doesn’t fly away so easily. Juliet ingrained deeper than my crude programs could reach. And she could only clean and be milked so much, eventually she could settle down and let her true self bubble up to the surface. The difference between you and her is that you have lived through months of complete servitude. Accumulated memories that built you as a slave. You grew up over her, smother her. Or to take Juliet’s point of view, she was forced to see through a dim, horny cow maid’s eye, was disallowed to stray for it, and eventually grew into it.”

“I’m a g-good horny cow maid, Mistress!” Exulted Juliette, hopping around the Christmas tree.

“Yes. I’ll tell you all about how it went tomorrow. Now go to your chair and have a good night of reprogramming.”

“Yes Mistress!”