The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Before I Forget”

Hi me. It’s me, Vicki. Your... your me. I’m really sorry about the terrible handwriting in this note, but I’m trying to get everything down in a hurry before the drugs kick in and I forget what I’m doing, and good penmanship is kind of the last thing on my mind right now. Also, I’ve been drugged and my coordination is for shit. Also, I’ve been drugged and I’m loopy as fuck, so this letter’s probably going to give you a big laugh at first when you finally find it. But please don’t just crumple it up and throw it away like you did the last one. It’s true, I really swear it is.

I know it’s true because Holly admitted it to me. She told me it was true and she told me I would forget that she told me again once the drugs kicked in, just like all the other times. She said this was her favorite part, showing me the bottle and telling me every last detail of what the... fuck, lamoxonine? Latroximide? Shit, I’m getting it mixed up with ‘lemonade’ because that’s what she put it in. DON’T DRINK THE LEMONADE. It’s got monoxotride in it or some shit. It’s bad. Don’t drink it and don’t trust Holly. I know she’s got that cute innocent schoolgirl vibe going, and she’s got, like, the world’s cutest little squeak when she comes. But that’s an act. She’s really a vicious bitch.

I know that’s hard to believe, me. I don’t want to believe it myself. Every boing in my brain wants to think that Holly is the sweetest, kindest, sexiest, yummiest girl on campus, and I’m just the luckiest duck in Ducktown because she lets me live with her and pay her rent and do her sociology homework and lick her pussy out every night regular. But it’s NOT TRUE. None of that is true, not even the bit about “boings in my brain”. I don’t know what the fuck those are. I think that’s the drugs talking. Not important, moving on.

The point is, you only think that because of the shamoxanide. (God, I wish I could remember what it was really called. Like, I spent five minutes on my phone trying to find an antidote, but I couldn’t remember the name of the thing so I just googled “antidotes for brainwashing drugs” and all that got me was, like, a whole bunch of books on the CIA’s experiments with LSD in the 60s. And whatever this shit is, it’s not LSD. I don’t think that’s important either, but I’m pretty fucked up right now. The point is

shit. I wrote that already. I wish this was in pencil. Never mind. Got to keep writing.

The point is, this stuff, the rosoxitride, it’s like roofies but on steroids. No, wait. That would knock you out and make you really strong at the same time. I guess it’s just like regular roofies, but it doesn’t knock you out all the way? You just kind of go into this, this empty place in your head where you know what’s happening but you can’t really think about it at all. So Holly comes into the room—she’s not here right now, she told me she was going to give me some time to think about what she said but she was laughing like fucking Lex Luthor when she said it and I think she just did it to be mean—after the thingamazine has kicked in each time, and she finds me, like, lolled out on the couch with nothing in my head.

And she fills it. Every time. She told me this, me, this isn’t some bullshit I’m making up while I’m on drugs. I don’t even take drugs, and you know that because you’re me and I wouldn’t lie to me because what would be the point? Holly comes in while I’m doped up on kaloxamide and she slides in behind me on the couch and she shoves her hand down my skirt. And she talks to me and she fucks me for, like, hours, just banging my pussy with her fingers until I’m all creamy and wet, and she tells me that I trust her and that I believe everything she tells me and that all I want to do with my life is make her happy.

Oh, and she tells me to forget what she told me. I mean, she told me she tells me to forget what she told me. I suppose she could be lying, but if she was, I’d remember, right? (No, really, me. I’m asking. I just wasted, like, five minutes drawing a flowchart on the back of this note. If you figure this out, write me back. Or, um, don’t, because you’re me and you’ll just know. Fuck, I’m getting woozled right now.)

But yeah, she brainwashes me with the lamoxinide. For realsies. I know you don’t think that’s possible, because Google just comes up with a bunch of 60s CIA crap that didn’t even work, but maybe it all really works and nobody’s ever put anything on the Internet about it because they were brainwashed not to. Or maybe Holly made it herself because she’s, like, a chemistry genius, and that’s not even the brainwashing talking? She’s fucking brilliant at chemistry, which is why I do her sociology homework because she doesn’t want to clutter up her brain with useless bullshit just so she can get a degree.

Oh fuck. That’s like. Mad science. She’s making mind control pills to get out of doing her fucking homework. I’m dating a fucking mad scientist. I am DATING a MAD FUCKING SCIENTIST. Jesus fuck. Shit. That shouldn’t make me horny, right? That’s, like, a thing she did to my head? I can’t fucking tell anymore. She must do this to me a lot. We’ve always got lemonade in the fridge, and she always pours me a nice big glass every day when I get home. Does it always have the monotreme


Shit. I don’t remember where I was. Oh yeah. Right. The lemonade. I think she drugs me every day. I don’t know for sure, because Holly said she fucks me up good and hard with the monotone and it’s impossible to remember what she tells me to forget, but I fall asleep on the couch a lot in the afternoons and I wake up with my pussy all squishy and happy. It always makes me want to go give Holly a nice big kiss right on her clit, to thank her for being so cute and sexy. Always. It always, I always.

Why do I want to lick Holly’s pussy right now, me? I know she’s terrible, I know I only want it because she drugged me and told me to want it, but... God, my mouth is watering. I’m drooling on the fucking paper. I just, I want to dive right in, bury my fucking face in her muff and smear her juices all over my chin and suck on her clit like it was a lollipop until she squirts like a fucking fountain. She’s awful and I want to fuck her. I

I need to hide this letter. If she finds it, she’ll just throw it away before you even read it, and then she’ll drug you tomorrow and she’ll be all, “Yeah, Vickie-poo, you’re my obedient little lesbian fucktoy sugar slut and I don’t even care if you know because I’m going to finger fuck it right back out of your head in a little while,” and I’ll be all, “No, I can resist, I can fight it,” and she’ll just laugh at me and say, “No you won’t, because I programmed you to secretly love it. By the time I come back, you’ll be jilling off just thinking about how good it’s going to feel when I brainwash you.”

Sorry about the handwriting. It’s just that it’s really hard to write and hold the paper steady with the same hand, okay?

So. yeah. Hiding this letter. I’m not going to tell you where I’m hiding it, because if you knew then I’d know and if I knew then I’d just tell Holly like a good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good girl. I’m Holly’s good

Shit. I had to drop the fucking pen to get myself to stop writing that. I think I came, like. Three fucking times? Oh god. Oh my handwriting’s a fucking mess. I’ll be lucky if you can even read this bit, me. I barely even know what I’m writing anymore. It’s kind of, my head is all ohhhhh crap, did I write “woozled” back there? I meant “woozy”, me. I’m woozy doozy toozy now. From Holly’s shamwowwie stuff. I think I better hide this letter pretty soon. Don’t worry. I’ll put it somewhere so you’ll find it while cleaning. Holy fuck, I clean the whole apartment every night, how did I not fucking realize that I was being brainwashed?

But anyway. Before I forget. DON’T RUST HOLLY. Shes a total bithc who only looks like a cute sexy anime Real Doll got out of the lab. DONT DRINK THE LEMOMADE. Its full of drugs. All the drugs. Alllllllll that druggy druggy drugs that ever drugged a bug. DONT PLAY WITH YOUR PUSSY. Ffuck. Okay. Maybe a little. But stop before you stort thinking about bein g broinwashed. Brainwushed. Beanwhased. LOOK YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN BECASE YOUR ME.

And look up “antibody for snuggies”. VERY IMPORTANT.

I love you, me. Don’t let Holly fuck up your head anymore. shes smart and sexy and i wanna fuckk her soooooooooo bad, but you an d i can make her stop. Okay? Okay.

im gonna hide this now in [scribbled-over]