The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Andy just sat there, saying nothing, thinking nothing; sensing his proud soldier’s arousal, but feeling nothing, by way of the conscious right or right of what he was now doing, and had done already, with Rebecca at the lab and his own sister Jem’, right here in his home where the policewoman now sat, just staring vacant-eyed at something, somewhere, but she was not staring at him.

He shook his head slowly, aware that in doing so, he had somehow given permission for his once proud soldier to now relax and stand easy. His erection was suddenly gone. Andy didn’t smile or grimace or even wonder why. He just sat there looking at the female cop, wondering with his usually analytical mind, why he hadn’t been thinking or sensing or feeling anything, since sitting back down into the chair. No thoughts or feelings of any kind seemed to even hint their arrival by approaching his mind for him to explore.

‘Jesus,’ he breathed softly out of his mouth, now aware of his shoulders seemingly deflating, sinking him further down into the chair. Yet his eyes never left those of the policewoman’s for a second. ‘What am I doing? What have I done? Rebecca, Jemma; my scientific engineering explorer thoughts and fantasies about women; and now a bloody cop, and a female one, at that?’

‘Hell,’ Andy exhaled, long and slow, again shaking his head in wonder at what he had done and was now doing again; still amazed at the fact that he could even do it, let alone discover how to, but he had done it, and again was doing it, right then. Andy felt himself deflate even more and sink further down into the chair.

‘Christ, he sighed, still shaking his head slowly, still in awe of it all. ‘If this cop remembers one single thing of what I’ve done and then arrests me, they could charge me with trying to make a bloody slave out of her by controlling her mind with a bloody pen. I’ll never get out of jail. And I’ll never get to see what she even bloody looks like, under that police uniform, or any girl’s body, for that matter.’

Then instantly, where there had been previously no thoughts or sensations or feelings of anything, whatsoever, for a seemingly long time, Andy sighed a defeated sigh; feeling as if he was now in a catch twenty-two situation. His analytic mind quickly took over, racing through a multitude of scenarios for a life in prison behind bars.

‘I wonder if they’ll let me have a pen to write home with?’ he sighed sadly, shaking his head in a seemingly defeated mindset, which was unusual for him in his science engineering studies and experiential explorations.

.Then suddenly, Andy felt the unavoidable presence a lone outlaw single thought that was somehow now just there; quiet and making no noise in his winding down feeling mind or even his thinking brain. It was just there, in all of his brains at once; seeming as if it was asking his analytic and scientific explorer’s feeling mind to settle down and quietly consider just exploring its quiet presence, in full.

One word, just one single word and Andy could now feel himself starting to come back to life and form – just one single, non-expanding word. His analytical mind knew what that meant. It meant that any expanding upon that one single word was and would be up him and no one else. It was his thought, after all, nobody else’s. He then did what he always did when knowing he had to expand, without wasting time, upon a sudden idea or lose it, altogether.

‘Slave,’ Andy murmured, already in reflective and analytical mind mode. Almost immediately, he then said it again, only this time, it was said as a murmur, but quietly, but firmly. ‘Slave.’

Andy relaxed again back into the chair, only realising then that he had been leaning forward, slightly. He then kept regurgitating the single ‘outlaw’ word, as he had already termed it, around and around in his mind. Then his mind, of that one single outlaw word, suddenly went blank in his head, as if somebody had turned the lights out. He shook his head, wondering what happened.

Then, just as suddenly, the lights of his mind came back on. One single, solitary thought was still there, all by itself. He breathed a sigh of relief and was about to begin regurgitating that one word again, when he realised that it was not the same word; still only one outlaw word all by itself, but it was not the same word.

Andy squinted his eyes a little; trying to see it clearly, but couldn’t. Then he gave up. Again, he relaxed back into the chair and again, he noticed that he had been leaning forward and hadn’t realised it. The instant he let go and stretched himself, fully back into the chair, the lights in his seeing mind’s eye suddenly got brighter, or, put the single outlaw word in larger text, but he could see it, and, he could see it very clearly. He mouthed the outlaw word softly to himself and then loud enough, so he could hear his own voice say it. Then Andy said it again, sounding to himself that he not only meant it, but he ‘felt’ it. It felt good, he decided. It really felt good just to say it.

‘Master.’

Andy said that single outlaw word three more times, although stated it would be more the case. Nevertheless, just saying it with the attachment he had now seemed to form with it made him felt good, made him feel important, if only to himself, not for what he had already done, but for what he could do, although he still didn’t quite know what that was, exactly. Images were flashed to him by his thinking mind, like cards being flicked away from its deck.

Then it suddenly happened again. Somebody or something had turned out the lights of his mind. Nothing. There was nothing there for him to see, let alone think about. Andy sighed and relaxed again, and again, immediately discovered that he had been leaning fully forward in the chair, as he had been saying the last outlaw word, aloud, only he hadn’t noticed.

Andy sighed and began to relax back even more, again, into the chair, but he never made it before the lights of his mind’s eye suddenly came flickering and flashing back on, only this time the lighting of his mind’s eyes was brilliant, as if to be blinding him, to not just the words themselves, but the spaces of outlaw intent stated before them, between them, and after them. And then his vision cleared, like a mist dawning and clearing from the morning dew.

Andy could see clearly now the outlaw he had been previously looking at, only the word was not the same word, ‘it’ was now ‘plural.’ There were ‘two’ of them, now in his mind’s comprehensive, scientific seeing-eye; two single outlaw words standing side by side; one in capitals and one in lower case; the one in capitals seemed taller and thicker in girth while the lowercase outlaw appeared a little shorter and slimmer in girth. Yet, they seemed to be a natural pair of words, at least in his memory imagination recollections, and they were both very close together, too, he observed.

Andy sighed a now happy, feel-good smile, although he didn’t exactly know why, other than that was exactly how he felt.

‘Ha,’ he chuckled softly, under his breath. I don’t own any slaves and don’t even know where to buy them.’ Then he laughed again, a little more loudly and in seemingly good humour, no longer thinking about going to prison. For the first time then, he noticed the policewoman who had always been sitting immediately opposite him. She had seemed to disappear from his view, somehow, while the two outlaws had been coming and going and then meeting up to introduce themselves to him, but as a couple, and not a two individual and separate outlaws—a team; a natural team.

Andy relaxed back down into the chair, not caring if he noticed it now, or not. His gaze was now directed fully back onto the face and form of the female police officer in front of him. As he did so, the ‘outlaw’ couple began walking forward in his mind’s eye; toward the front of his forehead; directly toward the police officer. He blinked and shook his head at the same time. Upon opening his eyes, Andy could not only see the policewoman clearly, he could see the two outlaws still walking in the policewoman’s direction in front of him, only this time, the outlaws were carrying a banner draped across their shoulders as they moved toward the uniformed woman. He could see the writing on the banner clearly, too, and silently, with a puzzled frown on his forehead, mouthed the words he did not recognise, let alone know what they meant.

‘Quo Vadis.’

Andy relaxed once again into the chair while trying to mentally figure out and try to recall what the words on the banner meant, that the two outlaws were carrying across their backs while they continued still to walk forward in his mind toward the very front of his mind’s comprehending lobe; directly still heading straight toward to the policewoman whose own mind was somewhere he had yet explored.

He sighed, breathing slowly and deeply then smiled, wondering why he would feel good when he didn’t know or couldn’t remember what the damn words on the banner meant. Seemed like a strange language, he concluded, finally, as he refocused onto the policewoman’s vacant stare. Her mind was vacant, Andy decided, but her uniform was anything but. His gaze had now dropped from studying her vacant eyes, to stare directly at the policewoman’s non-vacant police uniform dark shirt. It appeared to him to be full of police breasts; definitely not a vacant policewoman’s shirt at all.

Andy then begin to mentally undress the policewoman, starting with her uniform shirt, but he never got far when his lights suddenly began to flicker, but did not go out; just enough to take his attention of focus away from mentally stripping the policewoman, back up to his head where he saw immediately the two outlaws still walking; only now the banner had put it all together for him. It was a much deeper banner now with more words on it than before. He squinted and tried hard to make it all out. When he did, Andy laughed for a minute then he stopped, leaning back into the chair once again, to read the banner on his frontal lobe’s eye once again.

‘Are you blind?’ the words began with. ‘Can’t you see that we have been trying to go forward, toward the cop?’

Andy was slowly shaking his head and didn’t even know it. He read the last bit on the bottom of the banner, which seemed to be flapping now in some kind of mental breeze. ‘Train your own slaves, dummy,’ it read, ‘simply because you can, now that you know how.’

Suddenly, the lights of his thinking and imagination lobes went out together. His mind was blank. Then it was not. All he could see was the policewoman. Once again, Andy relaxed back into the chair, looking squarely at the lady in uniform sitting opposite him.

‘Train my own slaves?’ he said softly while wondering just how much of the policewoman’s uniform shirt was actually full of soft, white breasts and not just empty hot air. Mind control pen or not, I don’t have a clue as to how to train a slave.’

Then Andy suddenly felt a direct surge of feel-good rush straight to his waiting solder, resting at ease between his legs.

‘I could be her secret and unknown-to-her Master, though,’ he smiled then grinned and then chuckled. ‘With my undercover policewoman slave we could certainly go forward from there.’

Andy’s mind then comprehended in full the meaning and origin of the two words he had not been able to figure out – ‘Quo Vadis.’ The language was Latin. He remembered learning only a little of it at high school, and it meant something like, ‘Together, we go forward,’ which was exactly what the two outlaw words had been trying to tell him by walking seemingly toward the policewoman. And the tall, solid letter was the Master and was representative of him because he could train the little letter, the ‘slave,’ if only he could figure out how.

Andy clasped his hands together in a growing excitement born of sheer and raw scientific discovery. Where his mind was getting the help from, just so he could comprehend the enormities of what he could do with his pen, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He had gotten the message, loud and clear.

‘Copy that,’ he said aloud, his eyes glued to the spot where the policewoman’s right nipple could be. ‘I’ll find out how to train her,’ he then said softly, looking directly up and into her non-seeing eyes. ‘Because I can.’

Andy then laughed, softly and deeply, but firmly.

‘I don’t know how to train you to be my secret undercover policewoman slave, ma’am,’ he told the police officer, firmly and sincerely and then looked quickly at his watch then back at the policewoman’s eyes, adding, ‘yet.’

Then Andy had another thought.

‘Why train only one slave?’ he asked himself aloud. ‘I could train myself a bloody ‘army’ of secret slave-soldiers.’