The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I skim some of the earlier stuff in the journal, but it doesn’t get interesting until the entry from last Monday, when I guess she planned to go to the publisher’s convention. Beat journalists like us don’t usually go to that sort of thing, but Janet is trying to crack the editor’s ranks.

July 23, 1997

Eavesdropping always gets me into trouble. Registered for the conference at the Adam’s Mark this morning, and couldn’t help listening to another woman check in at the front desk. I missed her name, but couldn’t miss her face—she was striking, with high cheekbones, blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and a bearing that defied her obviously young age. She wore a fairly boring business suit, so it was hard to gauge her figure, but it could have been anywhere from stunning to supermodel.

I’d overheard her saying she was in town for the publishing convention and was staying alone for the week. With looks like hers, I’d try to keep that kind of info out of the public ear, since there’s a lot of creeps out there. Heck, maybe she was hot for the desk clerk. Not my type but certainly a hunk.

Anyway, seeing a woman like that usually doesn’t merit a journal entry here, just some petty jealousy and a renewed enthusiasm for my diet. The strange part happened after she’d gotten her room key. Another striking woman approached her, dark to the first woman’s light. In fact, I think she was probably at least a little Asian. But unlike the business woman, the dark lady was dressed to kill in a tight black cocktail dress that barely covered the tops of her stockings. She came right up to the blonde, who certainly didn’t know her, and said “I’m Constance, come with me.” Constance picked up the other woman’s bag and walked out of the hotel with the blonde in tow.

Well, this scene seemed odd to me. Nobody else seemed to think so, though certainly every guy in the place had been watching the two of them. I guess only I was close enough to hear that command.

Ok, so I said eavesdropping gets me into trouble. That’s because as a reporter, when I hear something odd I follow it, usually wasting my time. I tailed the two of them out of the hotel. To my surprise, and luck I suppose, they didn’t get into a car or taxi, but walked. For half an hour, which nearly convinced me to quit following them—my heels were killing me. The outskirts of the city had become the inskirts of the suburbs, and I had to trail further and further back to keep out of sight. So when my aching feet carried me around a corner and I couldn’t see my quarry I was ready to give up. I walked the length of the street, part of a small residential subdivision named Acorn Estates. With no sign of them, I was ready to turn back and get a taxi home, but I heard something.

Well, not something, moans. I knew what I was hearing—a woman having sex, and a loud woman, too. It was coming from a small bungalow on my left, and I had a hunch it was my girls. I peeked in a window. Equipment, very high tech, and lots of it. Another window, same story. I’ve no idea what any of it does, not even a guess. I snuck around back and hit the jackpot. The back room had equipment too, but the centerpiece was a jet black table with the blonde on it. Supermodel material for sure. Right then, she was moaning something fierce, her feet and shoulders on the table and everything else arched to the sky, her hips thrusting violently upwards, fucking the air. Constance was standing over her, still fully dressed and gently stroking the blonde’s cheek. I don’t know what was getting her off so much, but it seemed to reach it’s peak as she yelled for probably five seconds and then shook silently for twenty. When she collapsed down, Constance stroked her for the next half hour, and I watched.

I’d been seriously turned on by the show, but now I was getting uncomfortable kneeling in the dirt, and getting worried about discovery. Since nothing new was happening, I made my exit. I’m back at my apartment now, and somewhat less tense after a session with “Mr. Dudley”. I’m not sure if I’ll head back to that house tomorrow. I’d have to miss some of the conference sessions for what looks to be some innocent sex fantasy. But there’s all that mysterious equipment. And mmmm, it was one hell of a show.

July 24, 1997

Got up early, went to the conference. It was really boring, and my mind kept wandering back to Constance & Co. So after dinner I took a cab out to the cottage, got off down the street, and snuck up on her house. Still lots of equipment, still black, not surprising. I’ve just settled in behind a hedge, under the back window. No sign of Constance but I can see the other woman, barely.

She’s lying on her back on the table in the back room, maybe sleeping, but her setup looks pretty uncomfortable. Her feet are stretched to the far corners of the table, and her long smooth legs disappear at the thighs into a black form, seamlessly joined to the table. Another bridge-like enclosure is covering her breasts, keeping the show a mere PG-13, and her head is in some sort of open-ended box. The box is providing the only lights in the room, but only for the woman’s private viewing. I can’t see much through the opening in the box but something inside is giving off an eerie, shifty glow, like a neighbor’s television.

All the parts have black tubes running to a futuristic cabinet that takes up most of the left wall of the room. There’s more of these black box things on all the walls, and a modern, stern looking chair essentially built in to one of them. Nothing’s happening. I’m pretty bored.

9:00 now, and it’s pretty dark. Still nothing going on, and I’ve been here forty-five minutes, basically spacing out. Nothing to do but watch the woman. Her stomach is showing between the black things, and it’s regular rising and falling is all I’ve had to keep me company. One deep breath every thirty seconds or so—I’ve timed her. I’d kill for a stomach like that, I’d have to admit.

July 24, 1997

Shit. I’m scared. I almost got caught tonight, and I just got back to my flat, and I’m still shaking, short of breath, sweating from running in this miserable heat. I’m going to write this down, then go to the police first thing tomorrow. First thing today, I guess, since it’s after two in the morning.

I stopped writing earlier when Constance showed up, with this incredible guy. He was no more than twenty-five, with a killer body. His nose was bent like he’d broken it once, but otherwise this guy was right out of Chippendale’s. Right up to the stupid, dazed look on his face. Constance said “Sit down, Alex”, and “Alex” sat, in the only chair.

Constance pushed a button on the black machine behind the chair, and two bars extended. The guy’s head was flush with the machine’s cabinet, and the bars came out on each side of his head, stopping around his temples. Then she turned a knob, and the bars started glowing, just a bit.

“Alex? Alex, can you hear me?”

“Yes. Where am I? Why did you bring me here? And how?” Alex would make a good reporter. He’s got three of the big six down pat. Somehow she had him under her control, just like I suspected with the woman, and I got some answers to my questions too. I’ll try and remember her response.. she skipped the ‘Where’:

“I brought you here with a little mental nudge, that’s all. I need you to help me with some tests, just for tonight, then I’ll let you go. No need to worry, big boy. Now, let’s get down to business”

She turned the knob again, increasing the glow. Alex was looking straight ahead, and she knelt in front of him, her nose a few inches from his, holding his gaze.

“Slave, what is your name?”

“I am Alex.”

“No, your name is slave. Slave, what is your name?”

“Slave”

This went on a few more times, and I was getting turned on. In fact, it’s still exciting just thinking back on it. Who wouldn’t want a beefy guy like Alex as their slave? I remember thinking that maybe Constance would let me borrow him when she was done.

She taught him to call her “mistress”, and then started on “obey”, which took about five minutes. Still nose to nose, they went back and forth:

“What do you do?”

“I obey, mistress.”

“Who do you obey?”

“I obey my mistress”

“Who obeys the mistress?”

“Slave, mistress” And so on. Then she told him to stand up, undress, and sit back down. I cheered inwardly. He obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his smooth, washboard chest—shiny from sweat on this hot night. He worked off his jeans and finally his underwear. The guy had quite a tool on him, and I was pretty much drooling. He’s certainly the finest guy I’ve ever seen naked, though Van Damme in his underwear is pretty hot in Timecop. Unfortunately, Alex did all this with no fanfare, and no erection, but Constance saw to that.

When he sat back down, she got back in front of him and said “Slave, get hard”, pointing to his dick. Amazingly, he did, and now I was really impressed. She stood before him, lifted her skirt and pressed her crotch into his face. “Slave, eat my pussy”. I couldn’t see his face anymore, but I assume he obeyed, because she started gyrating her hips, her red fingernails digging in to the soft white of her behind. I’ve got to admit I started masturbating too, quietly, fantasizing about Alex’s rock hard cock, which was currently standing at about 2 o’clock, aiming upwards at Constance’s cleft.

She went on face fucking him for a while, and then lowered herself onto his dick, moving up and down slowly but holding his eyes steadily with hers. I came myself just after she told him to say “I will obey” on every downstroke. When I got back to my senses, she was commanding him not to come until she gave the order. Then, still speaking over his repetitive “I will obey”, she said, and I remember this well:

“When you come inside of me, I will own you, body and soul. You will exist only to please me, and to do as I command. Your mind will be blank save for thoughts of obedience and servitude. Do you understand?”

He stopped his mantra long enough to say “Yes, mistress”, and went right back to it, his head between two glowing bars that focused his attention on Constance’s eyes. She was squatting onto his tool every second or so, and she started moaning a bit, quietly. I could tell she was about to come when she picked up the pace, and then the most amazing thing happened. She came, certainly, with a yelp, but then they started glowing, the light moving from her sex up both their torsos. She looked into his eyes, slapped a panel on the machine with her glowing arms and said “Slave, come.” He shuddered tremendously, but silently, and the glow left them both as it arced across the air from his temples to the rods and into the black machine.

She milked him for a minute, her buns clenching with the effort and then got off of him, leaving him slightly hunched in the chair and looking very blank. He was still rock hard. Then she patted his head and said “Good slave. Wait here”.

Just a second. I need a drink, it’s hot, and I’m parched. Ok, I’m back. Writing this is taking longer than I thought, but I want to get it all down while it’s still fresh. It’s 2:45 now, and I think I’m good for another half an hour.

So, Constance went over to the table where the woman was still lying, pushed a button, and the box over the woman’s head retracted back into the table. Until then, I hadn’t been able to see her face. Now I could, and I can’t be sure it was the same woman as the night before, because she was entirely bald, which completely changes her appearance. She had a silver disk right on the knob of her head.

Constance did something else, and this time the black bridgelike things pulled into the table. It was more of an organic oozing, less of a mechanical retraction like the box had been. I’d seen this woman nude the night before, and tonight she was no less impressive, her breasts large but still jutting towards the ceiling, and tonight I noticed they were tipped with chrome. It could have been paint, or some bondage torture thing, but they were as smooth and seamless as the disk on her head. She sat up.

Constance asked her what she’d learned today, and the woman said, and I quote, “I have learned to serve the Dureel. I have learned to obey you, mistress. I have learned the tests I must undergo. Mistress, I very much wish to become Recruiter.”

Well, I don’t know what the Dureel is, or are. And I don’t know what a “Recruiter” is, but I’m capitalizing it because that’s how she said it. Also, Constance had more to say on the subject.

“Very good. You know I chose you hoping you would become Recruiter, as there is only one other besides myself, and we need more to speed our work. But if you cannot control minds, you will not be Recruiter. We will then see if you are suitable for Breeder, and if not that, you can still serve the Dureel well as Power. Let us begin your first test.”

More stuff I didn’t understand, and I never did get an explanation. They didn’t say much after that brief exchange. Constance went over to Alex, had him stand in the center of the room, and told him his feet were stuck to the floor and that he couldn’t make any noise. Then she told him that he was temporarily Alex again, free from all compulsions.

Alex was clearly himself again, and he immediately covered his crotch with his hands. Then he got furious and started trying to yell and move and hit stuff, but his feet were stuck and his open mouth made no sound. It didn’t take him long to become scared, and after that he just stood there glaring at the two women.

The blonde woman locked eyes with him, and he wasn’t looking away. But he was still pretty tense. “Use what you’ve learned”, Constance said, but as far as I could tell nothing new happened for the next couple of minutes.

“This isn’t working. But when Anne learned, she needed to generate extra power. Why don’t you try that?”

The woman still wasn’t saying anything, locked in a staredown with Alex. But after Constance’s advice, she moved one hand between her legs and started rubbing herself, deliberately, as Constance looked on. She must have had quite a gaze, because any man I’ve ever met would have looked down to watch, but Alex kept his head level, looking into her eyes. Again, this went on for a few minutes, her fingers still insistently humming on her clitoris, out of my sight. She took her other hand behind her, and I think she was working some of her fingers inside her pussy. I could see a flush come over her, and then she stopped her machinations, her body quaking on her weakening knees. Alex’s expression didn’t change as she came, and she sank to her knees. When her eyes left his, he went back into a stifled rage. Constance looked disappointed.

“It seems you are not Recruiter material. I am sorry. Let us begin the Breeder test. Alex, you must become my slave again. Fuck her, steadily and hard. You may not come.”

The woman went to the table and lay on it, sideways this time with her legs hanging off of the edge, facing away from me. Constance took a thick silver cable from a machine on the floor and somehow attached it to the chrome spot on the back of her head, which caused her to spread her legs into a near split. Alex, looking dazed again, moved between them and rammed his cock into her, fucking her steadily and hard, as commanded.

He didn’t seem to derive any pleasure from the act, but the woman and I did. I was excited again, and starting to rub myself, watching these perfect physiques fuck like machines. The woman was working up a sweat, moving her hips in counterpoint to his thrusts. I could see the lips of her pussy stretch every time he pulled back, trying to suck his cock back inside of her, and when he did push back in her whole body would shudder.

Constance was working with another device, next to the table. It had an arm extending over the table, a clear tube which forked at the end to come to two infinitesimal points as if a master craftsman had formed the tube and then stretched the hot glass until it tapered to a filament. She turned the thing on, and a thick gold fluid started filling the tube, the machine pumping it out with a hum that cut through the woman’s lust driven moans.

When the tube was full, and tiny drops of gold had appeared at the needle tips, Constance turned off the pump, and maneuvered the arm into position, the needles pointing directly down at the woman’s chrome-tipped breasts. Despite Alex’s continued assault, the woman managed to hold her chest still as the arm sank steadily. She sucked in a gasp and the needles sunk smoothly into her nipples, one slow centimeter at a time until the tips were deep in her flesh. With a hum, the machine resumed pumping.

I don’t know how much of that stuff she had pumped inside of her, but Constance left the machine on longer than it had taken to fill the tube, and then some. She retracted the needles as smoothly as they were inserted, and pushed the machine away. The woman’s face was a twisted mask of pain and pleasure, crying out with each of Alex’s powerful strokes. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the sides of the platform, trying to hold herself still.

Constance massaged the upthrust breasts, as if to relax and settle the fluid inside. When she squeezed, I could see a drop of gold form at the peak of the chrome nipple. Satisfied, Constance brought her head down and began to suck vigorously, her cheeks filling with the woman’s alien milk. She lifted her head from the meal, her red lips wet with the goo, and bent to kiss the woman. I could imagine the stuff flowing down from one mouth to the other. I could see the woman swallowing, her prone position and Alex’s pistoning making it difficult for her.

Then they did it again, with the other breast, and again. When they weren’t kissing, the woman moaned steadily, Constance sucking at her breasts. Finally, the time had come, or maybe the woman’s breasts were empty, because Constance took the woman’s head in her hands, looked into her eyes and commanded “Come.”

She did, and Alex did, and their yells could have woken the neighbors. The woman was shaking like the hard cock was electrocuting her from the inside, and Alex had lifted her hips of the table with his rippling arms to impale her still deeper onto his pole. I had never seen, or even heard of anyone coming so hard. In the middle of this, the machine connected to the woman’s head made a loud click, and it looked like that was a signal because Constance smiled and the pair began to calm down.

I’d never seen anything like that, and probably never will again. I’ll bet if I’d videotaped it I could live like a king off the profits. But after the sex, things quieted down. Constance had Alex stand off to the side, and apparently the woman had passed whatever test I’d seen because Constance congratulated her, and they began to talk. I couldn’t hear them at all. Constance looked at her watch, and I reflexively copied her. I’d been there for hours—it was nearly one. They showed no signs of quitting their conversation. Then poof, they vanished. Actually, not even a poof, just now you see ‘em, now you don’t. Until then, things had been weird, but plausible. This was unreal.

I waited, nothing. Then, and I still can’t believe I could be so stupid, I crawled in through the window. I guess I thought I could find some solid information, and at least help this guy Alex escape. He was still standing at ease, but a soldier’s ease, in the corner. I tried to get him to come out of his trance, saying his name, clapping in his ear, and finally slapping him, but none of it worked at all. Standing so close, I could tell just how buff he was. I couldn’t resist touching his naked body, running a fingernail down the valley of his chest, cupping his solid pecs in my hand, feeling the curve of his triceps. Then I had an idea.

“Slave, obey your mistress”, I told him, feeling kind of hokey. Especially when it didn’t work at all. I had to get his attention somehow, and only one thing came to my somewhat lust-clouded mind. I took his hefty cock in my hand. I’ve never felt a guy that big, that solid. I started stroking him, trying to get him hard, to get any kind of response. I could feel him stirring a bit, and then I just had to. So I did.. I took him in my mouth, my senses reeling with the rich melange of his scent and the woman’s. He grew so big so fast I almost gagged on it. I could barely get more than the head inside my mouth, so I licked and sucked the length of him, hoping to make him cum.

I had this feeling that that would break the spell he was under, but I don’t know why. I kept trying until my jaw ached, my shirt soaked in sweat. But I had to give up. Maybe it would have worked, but I just couldn’t get him over the edge. He just stood there stoically, his tool red and hot from the workout it had gotten. When I stopped, I realized how stupid I’d been. Not only had I broken in to their cottage, but I’d sat there for half an hour sucking some stranger’s dick instead of exploring for useful info. I’d been there too long, and went for the window. Just in time, because with one leg in and one leg out, the two women reappeared as suddenly as they had left. I jumped out and hit the ground running. Someone came out of the house and raced after me, and assuming it was Constance I didn’t want to look back. I kept going until I couldn’t run another step, and I guess it was enough to lose her.

So I’m back here now, it’s 3:20, and it’s damn well time for bed. The police, first thing tomorrow, though I’m worried I’ll sound like a lunatic. Maybe that’s why I wanted to write this stuff down. To make it more real.