The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Anxious Housewives: Part 1

By Chained Knee

Claire Willis and Rachel McGill did not have much in common. Claire was a trophy wife; Rachel had married her college sweetheart. Claire was outgoing and gregarious. Rachel was the shy and reserved type. Claire liked expensive clothes; Rachel mostly wore t-shirt and jeans except when she was going out on the town. Despite these differences, they shared one important thing in common. They were trapped in a seemingly never-ending cycle of domestic routine. They got up, made breakfast, exercised, showered, had lunch, volunteered at a local charity, made dinner, had dinner, watched TV and went to bed. They did the same things day after day. If their husbands were home, they were worked into the routine. Since their husbands were rich high-powered businessmen, they often weren’t around and Claire and Rachel’s routine, more often than not, stayed the same.

Since Claire and Rachel did mostly the same things, they came to be friends and commiserated over their mundane existences and their frustration with those mundane existences. This commiseration usually took place over coffee about 10:30 am.

It was this frustration over their boredom that one day caused Claire to make a stunning declaration over this coffee.

“I’m going to have a wild affair.” She announced.

Rachel looked up from her coffee not sure if her friend was serious or joking.

“I found out my husband is cheating on me. “ Claire complained. “Why should he have all the fun? I’ve been bored out of my mind being his faithful housewife and he’s boinking some bimbo. Well that’s it! I am going to do some things I’ve only dreamt of doing. Dirty things! ”

Putting down her coffee Rachel said, “So two wrongs make a right?”

“Maybe not.” Claire fumed. “But my wrong will sure make me feel a lot better. At least it will make my life more exciting!” She threw her head back and yelled, “God, I am sooooo bored!”

“So who are you going to have this wild affair with?” Rachel asked.

“Why not that guy who just moved into the neighborhood? He may be older but he is not hard on the eyes.” Claire decided.

Rachel leveled Claire a disapproving look.

“What?” Claire replied. “You never thought about cheating? You only see your hubby twice a month nowadays, if you’re lucky.”

“Ok, ok.” Rachel admitted. “Since Frank has been away so much, I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it a lot but in really weird way.”

Claire’s eyes twinkled at the revelation. “Do tell.”

Rachel forced an awkward smile as she confided in her friend. “Ok. You’re gonna think I’m kooky but I have this…well…thing for master slave role-play. Frank freaked when I told him about it so I’ve kept it to myself. Now that he is away so much I’ve started thinking about it a lot. Like, I used to fantasize about being a slave for other people. Stars and models, nobody real. Now sometimes, I’ll see a hot guy and want give myself over to him totally.”

Rachel’s voice trailed off with embarrassment as she saw Claire’s jaw continue to drop.

“I know, I know.” Rachel said, trying to explain. “I’m an ivy league feminist who is still proud to say out loud that she is a feminist. I don’t know why but kind of fantasy just turns me on.

Claire laughed. “Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. You know I studied dance in college? Well, I have…um…had this fantasy of being a stripper, a high-class stripper, a pole dancer who turn guys on with my moves. Then I hook up with one of my customers, maybe more than one, and would do it with them with people watching. How is that for kooky?”

“Are we crazy?” Rachel giggled.

“Nope, just bored out of our skulls. I am so tired of doing the desperate housewife routine. Let’s do something thrilling. Right now. Let’s go visit that guy who just moved in and see what happens.”

“We don’t know anything about him.” Rachel protested. “He could be a total creep or worse, a serial killer or something.”

“I sure hope so. That would be exciting, wouldn’t it?” Claire said as she grabbed Rachel’s arm and pulled her out of her seat. “Let’s go.”

The two arrived at their new neighbor’s doorstep within a few minutes.

“What if someone sees us?” Rachel whispered. “You know how people here gossip.”

“They won’t see anything but us being friendly neighbors.” Claire replied. “If they want to make anything more of that, then good! It makes us seem exciting.”

Claire rapped the door. “I can’t wait to see this guy’s reaction.” She said. “He looked like the college professor type. I’ll bet he’ll be really surprised to see two hot chicks on his doorstep.”

The door opened. A tall well-built older man with short gray hair answered. His clothes were antiquated, almost Victorian, but fashionable. His craggy face was worn with age but in a way, which made him quite handsome.

“Claire Willis and Rachel McGill!” He exclaimed warmly. “So good to finally make your acquaintance.”

Claire and Rachel’s collective jaws dropped. “You know who we are?” Claire gasped.

“We’ve never met!”

“But of course I do.” The man told her. “I always compile extensive research on the places where I perform my work. Please come in.”

Still surprised, Claire and Rachel stumbled into a living room that was filled with boxes in the midst of being unpacked.

Rachel finally spoke, “Um, and you are?”

“Dr. Donald Dunlop, at your service.”

Claire’s composure was returning enough for her to joke, “What branch of medicine are you in Dr. Don? Please say gynecology.”

“I’m not really a medical doctor though I have studied medicine.” Dr. Don informed them. “I have a Ph.D. Several PhDs actually.

Rachel picked up and flipped through a magazine with the title “Journal of the Brain Science” lying on top of a box. “From this I’d say one of them is in neuroscience.”

“Correct, Rachel!” Dr. Don said enthusiastically. “That is indeed one of them. I also have advanced degrees in psychology, biology and computer engineering.”

“So what brings you to our slice of heaven, doc?” Claire asked.

“Work, of course.” He told her. I am conducting an experiment here….”

Fearing the conversation was about to go way, way above her head, Claire interrupted. “I’m sorry Dr. Don, but I have to use the bathroom.”

“Sure. Through there to the right.” He said, turning to point the direction.

While Dr. Don wasn’t looking, Claire threw Rachel a glance that said, “Keep him busy while I snoop around.”

After Claire had left, Dr. Don asked Rachel, “Have you kept up with the neuroscience literature?”

“A little.” Rachel replied absently. “Not much since we decided to have kids.”

She grew alarmed and looked at the Doctor suspiciously.

He laughed. “Yes, I know your undergraduate degree was in neuroscience. I also know you would have pursued it into grad school if you hadn’t gotten married and become a full time housewife.”

Rachel dropped the magazine she was holding. “How could you possibly know so much about me!?”

“As I said.” He replied. “I make a special effort to research the places where I conduct my work. Come with me.”

At first Rachel wasn’t sure she should follow the strange man. Claire wasn’t back yet and was probably combing through his medicine cabinet. She had better stay with him and keep him occupied so her friend didn’t get caught.

Dr. Don opened a door into what should have been a bedroom. What was inside was a lot of high-end computer equipment usually seen in sci-fi movies.

“This is my work. This equipment is part of my experiments to find ways to reprogram the human brain for therapeutic purposes. Currently, I am investigating how thoughts and traits can be modified. The goal is to find a means for treating anything from Alzheimer’s to shyness.”

“Uh huh.” Rachel replied skeptically.

The Doctor continued. “I am trying to lock on to a series of thoughts and manipulate them to affect personality. I’ve figured out that one series of thoughts in particular is easy to isolate and thus change. You’ll laugh when you hear what it is. Female sexual fantasy.”

Indeed, Rachel laughed.

The Doctor smiled and nodded. “Sounds strange I admit. However, I have my reasons. I chose sexual fantasy because its patterns in the neural pathways are very specific as are its affects on the rest of the body. It has to be female sexual fantasy because, unlike men, women tend to imagine themselves as the object of sexual fantasy. The more subjective experience is easier to pick up, capture and change. Once I do this with female sexual fantasy, I can move on to other thoughts and traits like fear or bravery for example.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your work in a lab?” Rachel asked, still grinning.

The Doctor shrugged. “My early research was in the lab but I’ve found the need to do field tests to make sure the results I have obtained are reliable.”

“So what, you’re going run tests here? On what?”

“Not what.” He said matter-of-factly. “Whom.”

Rachel’s smile waned. “That is why you know so much about me and you knew who Claire was.” She guessed, her heart starting to race. “You want to test your crazy theories on us!”

The Doctor nodded. “My statistical databases led me here and my neural scanning telemetry confirmed that the women who live in this neighborhood are perfect participants for my tests. I have recorded your sexual fantasies and altered them to create behavior modification programs. It is fitting that given your background and basic understanding of science that you serve as my first subject.”

Rachel started to back away. “Take it easy there, doc. Ow!” She felt the pinch on the back of her neck. Instinctively, she reached back to swat what she thought was a bug. There was something hard and flat back there, in the shape of a square.

She stared severely back at Dr. Don.

“What did you do!?” She hissed.

Dr. Don held up an object. It was like a chip, maybe a quarter inch in width with 8 spider-like prongs extending from its sides. It scurried about on his palm.

“Don’t worry. You have been imprinted with one of my mobile neurochips. It is like a tiny robot that can seek out and attach itself to a subject in order to download and administer my neural-modification program. I do so hate subduing subjects to implant the chip. It is so undignified for me and the subject. This makes implantation so much easier.”

Rachel turned to run.

The Doctor seemed unconcerned. “I designed a special program just for you. I think you will enjoy it.” He pressed a few buttons.

Just as Rachel reached the door, her field of vision went completely white. It was a flash but not from any exterior source but seemed to flood from her brain. It blinded her and jumbled her thoughts so that she forgot her apprehension and her desire to get away from the Doctor. Slowly the blank whiteness eroded into a different form. Rows and rows of an endless procession of 1’s and 0’s paraded before her. Her eyes wandered back and forth over the numbers. Thoughts rose like ghosts, trying to return to her mind but she found no desire to grasp them. The numbers were all that mattered. The more she watched them, the more she could understand them. When their meaning became clear as words she spoke them.

“Test subject one ready for programming.” Rachel said flatly. “Name, Rachel McGill. Age, 27. Fantasy, domination and bondage. Programming downloading. Downloading. Program complete.”

Rachel suddenly swooned and her full consciousness returned.

“What happened?” She said dazed. Then she remembered. The doctor! He was a weird mad scientist and she had to get away from him! Again she started to run.

“You do not have permission to leave, girl.” The Doctor said sharply.

Rachel stopped abruptly. She blushed with embarrassment. Then she asked herself aloud, “What the hell am I doing!?”

“Don’t be rude girl.” The Doctor told her.

She felt ashamed even though she could not explain why. It shouldn’t matter what he thought. She should tell him to go fuck off but she didn’t. Her sense of disgrace was just too overwhelming “I’m sorry.” She told him and she meant it.

“You deserve to be punished girl.”

Now Rachel was flushed with the warmth between her legs and her tummy started to flutter. She couldn’t believe it. She was turned on by what he was saying!

“Punished.” She repeated, her mind starting to dance with visions of being spanked. She groaned as she tried to regain control but the delight was beginning to feel over her was just too good to resist.

“You will go to your house and kneel near the phone and wait for me to call.” The doctor commanded. “You will repeat ‘I’ve been a bad girl’ over and over as you do so.”

His voice was powerful and it seemed to vibrate through Rachel’s body. She whimpered at his order for she so wanted him to take her here and do something to her. She found the urge for him to posses her, to master he, to own her. She seemed to ache for his touch and wanted it to be harsh and commanding. Now that he was sending her away, it was as if he were casting her ought of heaven. She wanted to beg, to throw herself at his feet and plead with him to let her stay and do what he wanted with her to make her pay for her indiscretion. Before she could, he gave her a severe look and she shrank back. She knew that as bad as she felt the punishment he had meted out was, he could make something more agonizing. Strangely, this just made her want him desperately, more than she had ever felt for husband.

“Yes.” Rachel said meekly. When he crossed his arms and made a reproachful “tut” sound she quickly said, “Yes, sir!”

“Go now then.” Doctor Don told her. “Or you will be kneeling all night waiting for me to call you.”

“Yes sir!” Rachel said loudly. She quickly left the room and nearly ran over Claire who had returned from her snooping.

“He Rach!” Claire yelled but Rachel ignored her and tore out of the house. Claire ran after her and finally got hold of her arm to pull her to a stop. “Rachel, what happened? Why did you leave?”

Rachel’s mind was swimming with competing emotions. What was happening to her? Why was she feeling this way? Why couldn’t she control herself!?

“Claire, something’s wrong with me. I can’t stop…” Rachel’s voice trailed of as she saw Doctor Don looking at them from his house. His disapproving look nearly made her collapse.

“I have to go!” Rachel said abruptly. She pulled herself free of Claire and stormed off to her own home.

“Hey Rachel!” Claire called after her. “Come on! Don’t be such a bitch!”

Rachel slammed the door behind her. She nearly fell over the couch as she ran over to the phone and sank to her knees. She told herself over and over, “I’ve been a bad girl. I’ve been a bad girl. I’ve been a bad girl.”

She waited.

She waited for hours, chanting her chant. Her own voice became deafening in her ears, drowning out any rational part of herself that wanted to reassert control. It also had the effect of indoctrinating herself to value the Doctor’s opinion, each syllable she voiced like a mallet banging down on any thought of resistance. That mastery fueled her arousal and her body ached to be touched. It was utter agony to not be able to feel herself and find release but, at the same time, it made that arousal all the more delicious.

The phone rang and she let the answering machine pick up. It was Claire, asking to know what was wrong. She called back again and again, each time angrier than before until she finally swore she would never speak to Rachel ever again.

Day turned into night and still Rachel knelt and reaffirmed repeatedly that she had been naughty. All thought other than what she had been charged to say had been eradicated.

Finally the phone rang and Rachel heard the Doctor’s voice on the answering machine.

“Pick up the phone, girl!”

Rachel surged up and quickly answered the phone. “Yes, sir!” She answered meekly.

“Hello, girl. Did you obey my instructions?” She found his refusal to use her name intoxicating. It was if he robbed her of it as he claimed her for his own.

“Yes, sir.” She told him almost hungrily.

“Good girl.”

The complement flowed over her like the most sensuous caress. In the midst of the ecstasy, she accidentally gave voice to a hidden question that a free Rachel would have asked. “What are you doing to me?”

“Girl.” The Doctor said in a fatherly voice. “Did I give you permission to ask a question?””

“No, sir. Sorry, sir!” She was terrified that she would order her to return to her kneeling position and leave her there or the rest of the night..

“Make yourself up nice for me and come over.” He ordered. “I expect you to be here 30 minutes from now. Thirty minutes. No earlier. No later.”

“Yes, sir!” Rachel said but she found herself talking to a dial tone. After she put down the phone, Rachel quickly showered, put on her best cocktail dress and highest heels, painted her face and doused herself with her most expensive perfume. Dressed as if she were going to the most elite dance club, she walked back to the Doctor’s doorstep. With each step, she had time to reflect. Had he really reprogrammed her into his… She couldn’t think the word. It was too awful to contemplate. Or was it too wonderful to believe?

No, it was impossible she told herself. It was like those stage hypnotists. They didn’t really hypnotize people. People just fooled themselves into thinking they were hypnotized because they wanted to pretend to be hypnotized. Rachel had been so starved for novelty in her life that the idea of being under Dr. Don’s control just overwhelmed her that was all. Everything she had done up to now was just a hiccup of psychosis.

“I and going to control this.” She decided. “It is all a bit of fun. I am going to tease that crazy doc and laugh in his face.” As much as she tried to convince her obedience to his commands thus far had been a momentary surrender of will, the thought trembled on a foundation of doubt. It was a doubt that, at the moment, she was yet too frightened to recognize.

After Rachel knocked on his door, Dr. Don greeted her with a mouthwatering smile as he drank in the angelic vision Rachel presented to him, a far cry from the housewife in t-shirt and jeans she had been earlier that morning. It was a smile that would have made Rachel’s flesh crawl but now it made her tingle pleasantly all over.

The Doctor informed her of his judgment. “Very nice.” Rachel found herself suddenly giddy. She almost squealed with joy at his reaction.

It was a short-lived triumph. Doctor Don looked at his watch. “But you are two minutes late.”

Rachel’s elation quickly evaporated and was replaced by shame.

“Come in.” The Doctor commanded and she followed him inside, with her head bowed. Some part of her still new that accusing her that such a transgression was beyond silly but she could not help feeling that she had done something bad, like stealing. She roused herself to protest that she still retained her free will.

“I’m toying with you.” She told him. “I am not doing anything I don’t want to do. This is just a game for a little excitement.” There, she had asserted herself before him. If she was in control, why did she want the ground to swallow her up for fear of what he might do to her? Why was her greatest fear that she might send her away?

“You’re in control are you?” Dr. Don laughed.

“Yes.” Rachel shot back.

“You’ll have no need for clothes tonight.” The Doctor told her. “Get rid of that dress.”

His words rumbled through her and spoke to every part of her mind except her rationality, the one part of Rachel that now had the least say. Desire, fantasy, hunger for sensual pleasure, all these parts of her that had been restrained throughout her adult life had now been unleashed. They all followed the map of her deepest, darkest, heretofore hidden dreams of being mastered. Rachel was partially right, Dr. Don did not control her, but the forces he had let loose within her did and these obeyed Dr. Don’s commands because they wanted to, because they had wanted satiation for so long and this was their moment to drink their fill. Because they obeyed, she obeyed.

Rachel found herself spreading the spaghetti straps of her dress over her shoulders so that it could slip from her body and fall to her feet.

“I am in control! I am in control!” She whined, as she stood before him nearly nude. But she could not stop. She undid her bra and shimmied out of her panties. She was about t kick off her heels when the Doctor shook his head.

“Uh uh. Those can stay.” He told her and she left them on.

Rachel stood before him naked, completely revealing to him her slim, lithe body of glowing skin and sleek curves. Her small breasts, with nipples the color of blooming roses hardening from arousal, were firmly round in their perkiness. Her tummy, even with its tautness, trembled when she thought of what was happening to her. Her sylvan face seemed almost childlike in her confusing state between horror and desire. He felt his greedy eyes grasp her in an invisible but paralyzing hold. Completely exposed and defenseless, she could do nothing but endure bathing in his gaze. To her surprise, something about that longing she created in him filled her with a delicious sense of pride and satisfaction.

“Lean against the couch so I can get a look at that nice ass of yours.” He ordered.

Rachel put her hands on the head of the couch and leaned over slightly. She never felt so vulnerable and exposed in all her life. It was a feeling that was at once both frightening and exhilarating, like standing on the edge of a yawning chasm.

The Doctor’s hand fell with a loud slap against Rachel’s tight ass. She clenched her teeth to hold back a cry but it was more from the shock than from pain.

“You need correction. What happens to girls that are naughty?” Dr. Don taunted.

“They’re spanked.” Rachel said gasping. The words escaped her lips before she had a chance to rein them in. “No…I am in control! I must be in control!” She told herself.

Dr. Don’s hand came down hard on her buttocks again. They burned with pain.

“Yes. You’re so naughty.” Dr. Don laughed. “You need to be spanked.”

His hand landed on her again. Rachel found herself instinctively tensing and relaxing in rhythm to his slap. She knew she was being mentally transformed. That flicker of fantasy that had been struck when she read “The Story of O” and had remained with her was now inflamed, engulfing her personality remolding her into the slave she had been her dreams. There was no way to stop it.

“I am naughty. I must be spanked.” She found herself saying, a smile starting to grow on her lips. The old Rachel was warping and waning under the growth of her new self. All that she was…the knowledge, the restraint, the strength of will was moving to the background now, receding like the tide and being replaced by desire and hunger to be controlled, to be owned.

“Say it again.” Dr. Don told her as his hand came down again.

“I am naughty, I must be spanked!” She cried as tears welled in her eyes. She felt her mind simplifying, almost regressing to an earlier time to a girl like state, that girl of so long ago that wanted to please.

“I am naughty, I must be spanked!” She yelled at the top of her lungs now, almost affirming it. “I am naughty I must be spanked!”

Her butt was raw by now and each blow blasted through, making her most erogenous zones sing. Each blow was confirmation of the control she did not have. Each blow drove her to the verdict, which she now had no choice but to admit—She had no control. Her lustful cravings dominated her now and Dr. Don had mastery over these. They did his bidding as she did theirs.

Dr. Don stopped his spanking without warning, leaving Rachel gasping and sobbing over the couch. In her final submission she body seemed to radiate heat and was softly bathed with sweat. Her mouth was wet with hunger and her cunt was slick with its own desire.

“I trust you will not be naughty again.” He finally asked.

“No, sir.” Rachel cried. She was his and she would do as he asked, whatever he asked.

“Good girl. “ The Dr. Don told her. “Now this display has made me rather excited Rachel. What can you do about that?” He pulled her from the crouch, pressing up against her chest, taking a hand and gliding it beneath his waist. She could feel his manhood straining against his trousers.

The slave Rachel had replaced the rational Rachel but, in the infancy of her new personality’s power, she was still unsure about how far she would or could go. As her mind swam in dreams of all the ways she dreamt of pleasing a man, she now realized that no inhibition could stop her now from doing all thus hungry, dirty things she had fantasized of since adolescence. Realizing it was unbound, Rachel’s slave self latched on to that one thing she had always wanted to try but had been to ashamed to do.

Rachel knelt before him, undoing his pants, pushing down his briefs. She was going on the stories of girlfriends, the stuff of romance novels and the ingredients of her own fantasies. Now she was performing it as a ritual to please the man who had mastered her. She massaged his sac with one hand as she used the other to guide his cock into her mouth. The hot wetness of her mouth met the hardening velvety touch of his cock. His hands ran through her hair as her mouth slid over him. Though master and slave, they both found rhythm and moved in unison, back and forth, up and down, thrust and swallow. She savored his taste as it grew richer and deeper. When his shaft swelled and tighten, she inhaled him deeply. With a murmur, he let himself go and she drank of him.

“Good girl”. Dr. Don said as he ran a hand through Rachel’s hair. She smiled. She was kept, she was mastered, owned, controlled and it felt wonderful.

“I think I will keep you.” Dr. Don told her.

Rachel tried desperately to contain her glee.

“You are no longer a housewife or Rachel McGill. You will serve me and please me as my girl.” He told her.

“Yes, sir.” His girl moaned with delight.

“We’ll keep my ownership of you secret. To the rest of the world you will remain Rachel McGill, bored housewife, but when I call upon you, you shall be my girl.”

“Yes, sir.” She said excitedly.

“Go. You will hear from me. Obey me well and I will allow you to know your own pleasure.”

Rachel quickly put on her clothes. She left holding the secret of her servitude lovingly close to her heart. She had entered Doctor Don’s house as Rachel, the housewife who sometimes dreamt of being a slave ,and left it as his slave girl who pretended to be a bored housewife named Rachel.

The next day Rachel knocked on Claire’s door determined to patch things up. To anyone else this would seem like the act of a friend but Rachel had an ulterior motive—she had to put things back to normal so no one would suspect she was Dr. Don’s girl.

Claire answered but didn’t say anything. She just gave Rachel a severe look.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Rachel explained. “I got sick all of a sudden and was puking all night. The chicken salad I had for lunch must have been bad.”

Claire was mollified by the apology. “That’s okay, dear. So tell me, what was Dr. Don like. I’ve been so curious.”

“Oh, nothing special.” Rachel lied with a smile.