The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Timothy and Anne had been happily married for the last 7 years. Anne was a lawyer who took on cases from high-profile clients and made the money to prove it. Timothy was an inventor, and also... made the money to prove it. Anne didn’t mind making the vast majority of their combined income—Timothy had worked to help her pay her way through law school, and there was always the outside chance that one of his inventions would finally be “the one.” Usually though, Timothy made things that were more suited to late night infomercials, rather than devices that would revolutionize society as we know it.

It had been Anne who had suggested the idea of him doing a mini showcase for her of what he was working on, once a month. When inspiration struck Timothy, she sometimes didn’t see him outside of his workshop in the basement for weeks at a time, and while she had learned to love this as a part of who he was, she still needed a minor compromise.

“What have you got to show me today, honey?” Anne asked.

“Well,” Timothy said, smiling. “You remember that time we tried roleplaying to spice things up a bit in the bedroom?”

Anne grimaced. “Yeah, I remember. I seem to recall us dropping character about two minutes in because of how awkward it was...”

Timothy shook his head at the reminder. “Yeah, it didn’t go great. But,” he said holding up a box, “I’ve made something that will completely fix that little issue.”

Anne frowned. Had Timothy done something silly, like reinvent sex dice?

“Okay...” she said dubiously

Timothy pressed the box into her hands. “Go on, open it.”

Anne sighed, and opened the box, revealing what looked like a pair of bone-conductive headphones. The sort that rest just beside the ears, but don’t block you from hearing other things.

Anne looked blankly at the device. “Uh, how does it work?”

Timothy took the device out of the box, and put it on. “Why don’t I show you?”

He pressed a button on the left side, and suddenly he was sitting up straight, a blank look on his face.

In an almost robotic voice he said, “Please state the persona or role you would like me to play.”

Anne started laughing. “Ha, ha, very funny, Timothy.”

But Timothy didn’t react at all. He just kept sitting there with the blank look on his face. Completely unresponsive. Anne tried waving her hand in front of his eyes, but he continued to just sit there stiff as a board not reacting.

He said again, “Please state the persona or role you would like me to play.”

Anne was starting to think he wasn’t joking.

Just testing the waters, she said, “I want you to be an erotic masseuse, who’s making a home call to a new client.”

That same robotic voice, “Affirmative, I will be a masseuse.” His face was blank for a few more seconds, and then he shifted in his seat.

“So, Anne. That was your name right?” he said. “What are we thinking today?”

Anne smiled. This felt much more natural than their last disastrous attempt with roleplay.

“Well,” she said. “I’m a lawyer, and I’m often sitting at a desk for hours on end, reading papers. It really messes with my neck and lower back.”

“Say no more,” Timothy said. “Why don’t you show me to the bedroom and we’ll get started.”

What followed was the most relaxing and arousing two hours of Anne’s life. Timothy deftly worked her muscles, seeming to know exactly what her body needed, and expertly transitioning from massage to foreplay. When he started rubbing her breasts, and they started making love Anne wondered where all this skill was coming from. Timothy was doing things she had never seen him do, and it was all so hot.

After he had treated her to orgasm after orgasm, the two of them lay panting and without thought in the middle of the bed.

Anne finally said a question that was on her mind. “Uh, how do I change you back though?”

“What do you mean change me back?” Timothy asked.

“You know, the masseuse thing. How do I turn it off?” she said.

Timothy gave her a confused look.

Anne started to feel the edge of panic welling up in her. What if he was stuck? What if there was no way to turn him back?

Not really knowing if it would help, Anne took off the device from Timothy’s ears. He had a faraway look on his face for a few seconds, and then he smiled at her.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

Anne smiled in relief. She had enjoyed Timothy-the-masseuse immensely, but it was good to have her husband back.

“It’s a great invention, honey,” she said. “But next time, please tell me how to turn off your inventions. I thought I might have lost you.”

Timothy gave an embarrassed look. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t even think about it.”

Anne gave Timothy a big kiss. “It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun with this going forward.”

Over the next few weeks, Anne and Timothy took turns using the device. Every date night was something different. Anne made Timothy into an artist using her as a nude model, a police officer pulling her over and accepting special “bribes”, and a scientist trying to do research on her erogenous zones. Timothy made Anne into a airheaded cheerleader trying to do anything for an A, an alien trying to understand this thing humans call “love”, and tonight...

Timothy turned Anne into a hooker. She had switched into her costume ahead of time, and they had driven to the sketchier part of town. While she was under, he had told her to get out of the car, walk two blocks down and become a hooker. He actually detailed a bit of a backstory for her—she was a high school dropout who had become a hooker to make rent. Now she loved her job, and couldn’t dream of doing anything else.

With everything in place, he drove down to meet Anne-the-hooker. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She had on stilettos that emphasized her legs and her amazing derriere, thigh high stockings held up by a garter belt, a barely-there miniskirt that could have almost been a belt, and a skimpy top that showed off her midriff. It was such a change from his normally strait-laced, high-powered lawyer wife. Anne was normally in sharp business suits. To see her standing there in those clothes, and carrying herself like that—Timothy was glad he wouldn’t have to hide the tent in his pants for much longer.

The sky was a little overcast, and Timothy was amazed that Anne wasn’t shivering at all.

“Hey, you,” he said. “How much for a night?”

She leaned through the open window and giggled, “$100 and I’m all, like, yours, mister!” she said bouncing a little in place.

Timothy had loved airheaded cheerleader Anne, but he suspected high-school drop out hooker Anne might give her a run for her money.

“Alright, hop in,” he said, unlocking the door.

She was about to touch the door, when suddenly a large flash blinded Timothy and a deafening boom rang out. It took him several moments to put together that he had just witnessed a lightning strike a few feet from himself. Directly on Anne!

He rushed out of the car, and saw Anne sprawled out on the ground, unconscious. Physically she looked fine, although there was smoke coming from around her ears. It looked like the device was toast. He pulled it off, and threw it in a random direction so that her hair wouldn’t catch fire. Then he shook her, trying to get her to open her eyes.

Thankfully, her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a confused look.

“What, like, happened mister?”

Oh, no.

“Uh, Anne. Do you recognize me?” he asked slowly.

Anne gave him a strange look. “No... should I? Have I, like, fucked you before? And how do you know my name?”

Timothy tried to keep his breathing even. Now was not the time to panic. He could fix this. Just take care of one thing at a time. He needed to get Anne back home to the lab. He needed to fix the device, and figure out what went wrong.

“I’m sorry, I was just guessing on your name. We’ve never met. You said $100, right? Why don’t you get into my car?” he said.

Hooker Anne’s reduced intelligence proved to be a godsend, as she was thoroughly uncurious about how strange everything he had just said was.

“Like, alright, mister!” she said, getting to her feet.

He walked over to the device, which had stopped smoking at this point. He gingerly picked it up, and put it in his pocket.

Then he joined Anne in the car, and drove home.

When they arrived there, he asked Anne to wait in the living room. He went down, and took apart the device. As he feared, it was completely busted. It was going to be a several day job to get it working.

There was a knock at the basement door.

“Um, are we ever going to, like, do anything? I’m bored! If we don’t do something fast, I’ll just go find another customer.”

Fuck. He needed her to stay around here. And he wasn’t exactly feeling aroused, given his state of worry.

“I’ll be right up!”

Timothy walked listless up the stairs. What was he going to do?

When he arrived at the first floor, he was greeted by a kiss. And a shock. When Anne’s lips had touched his, he had felt something like a static shock.

It was probably the familiarity of kissing his wife, but Timothy found himself relaxing. He hugged Anne, and was greeted by another small shock. However, instead of being slightly painful the shocks sent waves of pleasure through his hands. Quite unbidden, he found himself getting hard. Anne knew what that meant, and led Timothy to where she assumed the bedroom was.

Inside the bedroom, they helped each other undress. Every single time Timothy helped Anne with an article of clothing, he felt another shock that sent a greater wave of pleasure through him.

He started with her top. Each button he undid, sent another shock through his hands. Finally her breasts were free, and he was staring at a lacy black bra. Anne had so much tone. He was so lucky to... know her? His head was feeling a little fuzzy. He was so lightheaded for some reason.

He greedily undid Anne’s bra in a single practiced motion, and the light touch was another shock. It was strange, the waves of pleasure weren’t limited to his hands anymore. It was like every nerve in his body was getting a tiny, pleasurable signal.

It was getting so hard to remember. He had been worried about something. It was something so important. His lightheadedness seemed to be growing by the second. Why couldn’t he focus. There was... an important problem. Something to do with- Amy? Was that her name? He knew this woman somehow.

She kissed him, and the spark jarred him back to reality. God this woman was hot. She grabbed his hands, and guided them to her breasts.

As he massaged her breasts and she gave over-the-top moans, the woman (who?) started taking off her skirt. He saw that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath her skirt. His hands roamed over her body down to her sex. God, he was so happy he was fucking this hooker. With a body like this, $100 was a bargain.

Realizing how wet she was, Timothy wasted no time in entering the hooker. Their whole bodies writhed with animalistic passion and pleasure. Timothy was so stimulated by the constant shocks and so lightheaded that he didn’t question anything that was going on.

The two of them seemed to know how to work the other’s body, in spite of having only just met. It was incredible. Timothy didn’t know the last time he had had sex, but he was happy he had picked this prostitute. He was going to have to use her services ag-

“Ooh! Oh my god!” he was having the orgasm of the ages, as he pumped her full of his seed. Panting, he added, “That. was. incredible.”

The hooker hadn’t finished, and it looked like Timothy had collapsed into a heap on the bed beside her. Oh, well. That was always a hazard of the job.

She started getting her clothes back on, before saying, “Where’s, like, the money?”

Timothy was still blissed out on the bed, but he summoned enough power to point at his pants halfway across the room. “Take everything that’s in there. Call it a tip!”

The hooker walked over, rummaged around until she found his wallet, and took out $140 in 20’s. Not a bad score.

She smiled.

“Like, thank you, mister!”

And then she walked out of his life.