The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Outdid yourself this time, Bridget. That dark one for D-3 is already halfway processed. Sergei didn’t need more than one session in his office with her,” Olga Lukayenko, the team captain, said with a proud grin. Her lined face made her look older than her years, a token of her daughter’s birth less than two years ago, but her blonde hair shone brightly, showing that it was by her choice rather than a controlling husband’s. She opened a funeral black purse that Bridget knew was full of her favorite toys. “Now, what shall your reward be?”

Bridget grinned and pointed at a gold coin, keeping her eyes on it as Olga picked it up and spun it on the bench, letting go of her self and letting it pull her in for practice. Olga commanded her in Russian, and she slowly changed into her uniform and headed out to the court. The elite team was a testing ground for those who thought they could be controllers, both the ones who succeeded and the ones who found themselves in someone else’s thrall—and then there was Katie, the other American, who remained so oblivious to the power plays going on around her that Bridget sometimes wondered if she was all right in the head.

She was used to doing practice in trance; it helped her last longer, allowed her to become fluent in Russian within weeks, and made her a more accurate shooter, something that had held over from Northern State. Olga had picked up on it from the day Bridget had shown up, and after a few questions about her college days, Olga had been the one to turn her into a broker, and Bridget’s success was Olga’s success. Of course, the one difference was while everyone else remained under if they were in trance, Olga’s thunderous hands clapped her awake after practice as the rest of the team returned to the locker room. Bridget shared a smile with Olga as they leaned back, towels over their shoulders and special water bottles in their hands.

“I think of all the things I’ve changed in every brain I’ve entered, getting you to drink like a Russian was the hardest. But you know what they say...”

“It’s not that Russians are opposed to chemical control, it’s that they’re all too drunk for it to work!” Bridget finished with a grin, toasting Olga with the bottle and taking a carefully measured squeeze as the D3 squad took the floor. Alikia already had a dopey grin on her face and needed to be led onto the floor by the arm by one of her teammates. The plain white jersey dresses flipped up as they moved, and Bridget had to cross her legs when she realized that Alikia was in regular panties, not the compression shorts that everyone else wore underneath.

“Maria works quickly. This one is already in the final phase,” Olga said with an admiring note in her voice.

“I don’t think most of that’s Maria. Sergei had her eyes fluttering just by wearing the title ring—not using it, just wearing it. She’s an incredible athlete, but dumb as a bag of rocks. She was either going to be so stupid she went under right away, or so stupid that she wouldn’t even realize she was supposed to be hypnotized. I guessed right, but you can never tell.”

“Still, they have to know how to finish the product, and for a group of eighteen-year-old girls here to learn the craft just to protect themselves, and can still bury a shot as easily as they can a soul, I have to admire their work,” Olga replied as the practice got underway. Alikia looked like she was on another planet, and the other girls looked disturbingly excited about it. In one of the corners, Nicole was doing her stair running without a care in the world.

“She had to visit my office,” Sergei said as he came up behind them. “The young ones, they do not always think about the one who doesn’t fall as fast. They’re happy with the easy prey. But Nicole appreciates fine art, especially the painting behind my desk.”

“Mmmm, my favorite work of art as well. She has good taste,” Bridget said, envisioning the multi-spiraled, pointillism recreation of the shield kept on Sergei’s wall. Her eyes glazed over, and she let out a little moan, thinking of how easy it was to fall into the pattern.

“Always an odd couple, no? The two master hypnotists and the woman addicted to hypnotism,” Olga said with a laugh before she nudged Bridget awake to both Sergei and Olga’s laughter. “At this rate, I can lure in that Czech point guard I’ve been hearing about,” she added, grinning ferally.

“There’s always room for midseason replacements, that’s the deal,” Bridget said. “But a point guard? You’re not planning on replacing me, are you?”

“You’re one of a kind. You bring us treasure. This one, your girl with the spare parts—” Sergei gestured at Nicole running the stairs—“she is well on her way now. She has no problem being on her knees, no matter how many times they’ve been fixed.”

A week passed, and Bridget waited by the exit to the D3 locker room for what Sergei told her was coming. She smiled as she recognized the ranks immediately. Maria was in the lead in the team jacket. Most of the rest of the team followed in comfortable clothes. Behind them were Nicole and two other girls who had fallen behind, and then under Maria’s spell, wearing tight jeans with sequins in a spiral pattern and a sparkling tube top in team colors. This was their mark of servitude, and they wore it mindlessly as they went with their teammates to dinner—of course, we’ll just see what gets eaten, won’t we? Bridget counted heads and knew what that meant, and she waited eagerly for Ali—no, Precious, to emerge, and she was not disappointed. High heels clicked slowly as the empty-eyed beauty strutted out, breasts heaving, every orchestrated cross of her freshly waxed legs squeezing her hot pussy. The red ultramini dress left nothing to the imagination, and Bridget tested that theory by teasing her fingers up the skirt. That was enough to melt Precious to the floor, but she didn’t have time to lie there in glassy-eyed bliss as Bridget commanded her to remove the few clothes she was wearing in random order just to prove who was in charge, then ordered Precious to walk her all the way to the elite locker room. Precious accepted it without as much as a shrug, and Bridget hid a grin as she led the newest porn star into the shower to get dirty instead of clean.

Once Bridget had finished with her test drive, she went to report her results to Sergei. His office was a treasure chest of focus objects. He kept everything; rational people would call him a hoarder, but Bridget preferred to think of him as thorough in his work. Nothing would stop him from his real job, the one that allowed him to pay Katie hundreds of thousands of dollars just to win basketball games without a sparkle in her eyes—and he would have done the same for Bridget if she didn’t want her eyes sparkled. She never minded losing herself in his office, whether it was in the reflective gilding on all the panels, the specially calibrated chairs that could spin a brain into mush or tip back to let someone stare into an eternity of prisms, the different spiral paintings on the wall, or one of the hundreds of pendants, rings, watches, wands, and other trinkets on the bookcase. Sergei’s belief was that if the subject chose their trap, they would be that much more willing to fall into it, even if they didn’t know they had chosen to fall. Of course, for Bridget it was more like a trip to the kinky candy store, and she could feel her brain melting out through her pussy as soon as she set foot in the room.

“Nicole is more than ready to become Nicolette. I have already planted the story for her final knee injury in the American press so they will not notice or care when she has her... surgery. She will make one last visit here to make sure she won’t wake up in the hospital. But such low-grade trash isn’t what pays your bills. Lisa is fine and already relegated to the end of the bench for her inability to think. Sam is starting, but for making a dominatrix, that will be fine. She has fouled out of every game, which tells us that the programming is taking hold. Once she gets ejected for biting, you can begin putting the leash on the bitch. But your Kelly... she has become good enough, and strong enough, that I am considering moving her up to elite and bringing Katie down to D2 to become Katarina. She goes under as well as any of your projects, but it is as if she washes her programming off in the shower and goes back to being the happy housewife from Utah that you first met. She has most likely found her own form of release to get around our programming, and I felt that you should be aware of this. It is not the first time this has happened. I welcome any ideas you have to bring her down to the level we need her to be.” Sergei’s voice held little trace of the worry Bridget knew he was feeling, but she was used to that. Men did not make it far in Russia by showing their true hands.

“I got this. Whatever makes other people give up is what I thrive on. And the harder they go, the harder they come,” Bridget said with a smirk. “If she’s still resisting two weeks before Christmas, call me.”

“Very well. But I will take no chances and prepare the Falcon,” Sergei said. His hand drifted under the desk, to the safe that contained his most powerful weapon.

The thought of the legendary falcon statue—said to be made out of prism grade crystal, with precision-cut sapphire eyes and platinum wings to reflect the light back into itself—made Bridget recline her chair and gaze mindlessly at the ceiling just to gain relief. Sergei just laughed and buzzed in Nicole, who was in the minidress that sealed her doom, and Sergei directed her first porn scene from his chair as she slid her manicured hands down the entranced Bridget’s pants to get them off. She proved quickly that being on her knees was now a delight to her, and her skilled tongue elicited screams and moans of approval from Bridget, whose trance magnified every sensation.

When Nicole was done, she took the chair next to Bridget, and the scene repeated itself with Bridget returning the favor. She could almost taste Nicole becoming Nicolette, and that knowledge made her even wetter. Then they both worshiped Sergei on their knees, the only difference being that every lick woke Bridget up, while Nicole would sleep forever.

“The Falcon is a merciless bird. It eats your mind like a continuous worm. Sucks it up and doesn’t even spit back a morsel for the chick to eat. It is said that not even Gregor himself devised a better focus trap. In less than a day, your Kelly went from being close to breaking out to in her own panties in practice,” Olga said with a note of bitterness in her voice as she and Bridget watched the D2 team in their red and white striped skorts doing shootaround. All three Americans were empty-eyed and well programmed. Sam was almost feral in her movements as she screamed and clawed for the ball, and her teammates looked terrified of her. Lisa and Kelly ran mindlessly, empty smiles never leaving their faces, as they did canned drills together but only knowing what they were told to know.

“Wasn’t expecting a threesome out of the deal,” Bridget said with cruel satisfaction.

“Nor will you get one. Kelly will need time to be properly altered into Katarina. I’m just not certain that she needed the Falcon. But Sergei gets frightened of things he does not understand, and how she channeled her controls is a mystery. But no one escapes the Falcon’s bite. It’s said to be one of the few objects powerful enough to command death should its master desire it. Ah, but one of your other toys is ready to be played with!” Olga said, pointing to the court, where the D2 coach called for the Stars and Stripes drill. Everyone gathered around, and she called Lisa to the center.

“Stars and Stripes” was a useful codeword for the drill that proved that someone had fallen as deep as they could go. Bridget smirked in the stands as everyone on the team, even those who were already property of the team, commanded Lisa to do crazy things to test how far gone she was. They started with theatrical impressions and silly tricks, then put her into increasingly sexual positions until she was ordered to remove her uniform. She did all of this without hesitation, without thought, without any awareness that there was a reason not to. Then came the death knell. “You have been assigned to a new team. You will perform for this team as you would for us. Do you understand?” the coach barked out.

“I am a member of the team. I am part of the team. I am property of the team. I will serve the team in any role assigned to me,” the fallen giant replied without blinking, in perfect Russian.

“On your knees,” the coach commanded, and Lisa posed as ordered. Her teammates snapped pictures for posterity, and to remind themselves what a finished product looked like, before she was put into a skintight bodysuit and led into the locker room to be put through her paces before she would emerge as Lenka.

With a slow exhale and no other reaction, Bridget creamed herself. Her gaze fell on Kelly, who was oblivious to anything and everything that was going on around her, and she grinned. Test driving Lenka tomorrow will be a blast, she thought.

Weeks went by, and everyone grew used to Lenka at the end of the bench, her hair bleached an unnatural shade of blonde, her only contribution to any conversation being ham-handed come-ons and airheaded giggles. The D2 team was all smiles over Lenka’s creation and their part in it, but Bridget wondered what the hold-up was in turning Kelly into Katarina. She looked like a doll, and obeyed most orders easily, but she was breaking out and demonstrating leadership that was unusual for an American player at this level. A lesser controller might not have noticed the minor breaks in her programming that allowed her to excel, but the Zhukovs did not employ lesser controllers, and Olga and Sergei recognized that something had gone wrong.

“Don’t tell me she broke free from the Falcon. I’ve seen—or, more accurately, not seen—the shorts you were able to get her into off the court. Maybe you should cut back on the heels—they might be giving her delusions of grandeur,” Bridget said with a chuckle.

“The breaks are not obvious, and if we sold second-rate goods, you’d have had your fun and your money weeks ago. But we do not sell second-rate goods. Those shudders, those blinks—they bring her back to herself, and that is unacceptable, Bridget. She is tougher than any of us realized. We have her tied down hard, but yet she can get a hand free. And she still shoots like herself, still plays like the player you told me about when she was just starting. The D2 girls still report that whenever they think she’s ready for the Stars and Stripes drill, she reverts back to where she was when I had her meet the Falcon,” Sergei said, shaking his head.

“And she’s still talking about Christmas with the husband. Are you sure you didn’t get a Stepford wife?” Olga asked with a note of disapproval in her voice.

“That guy doesn’t have the backbone to control a household pet, let alone his wife. He even thanked me when I forwarded a little money from one of my charges to help with his mortgage. If Jeffrey Rice is a controller, I’m the great-great granddaughter of Rasputin himself,” Bridget said dismissively, and Olga and Sergei had to hold back their giggles at the way Bridget squeezed her thighs together at the invocation of her trigger phrase.

“So we will keep trying. Now, I have a very good offer from a seven-footer for a woman he doesn’t need to bend over to see. Lenka will be just fine, and three million is more than enough. That will allow me to bring Maria up onto the D2 squad. One more controller can’t hurt, especially with someone as unusual as Kelly. We have to more weeks to deal with her. Otherwise, we will need to bring in a new girl, and that will come out of your own pocket,” Sergei said.

Bridget sighed as she left. What is that bitch Kelly doing to resist? It’s the fucking Falcon, for God’s sake! she thought angrily. But speaking of bitches...

Her next project was waiting in her room. Sami was in her red leather, on all fours on the bed, snarling as soon as Bridget opened the door. Her mark of ownership was the shield on the collar around her neck, but it would be understandable if someone mistook who owned who, given the variety of tools in front of her.

“Now this is the kind of bitch I had in mind for today!” Bridget said with a grin and a round of applause before stripping to her bra and panties for a rough ride with her new pet. She wasn’t completely into the whips and being tied up, but it was a fun change of pace. More importantly, she knew central Europe was a rich market for a durable and truly vicious bitch who could switch from dom to sub as desired. Sami would make someone very happy in a twisted way.

“If I could just figure out how to tame the other bitch in here, I’d be the happiest girl in Russia,” she muttered, lying in bed next to the tamed Sami. A dog-like whimper that accompanied Sami bringing over her riding crop made Bridget chuckle—and then break into maniacal cackling as she had an epiphany about Kelly. It earned Sami another round of playtime before Bridget gave her a head rub and a “good girl!” that sent Sami rolling over onto her back and into a blissful sleep that would reset her brain for her next client.

“I solved the Kelly problem.”

Olga raised an eyebrow. “Explain, Brushka.”

“You’re happily married, right? And Sergei is old-fashioned enough not to touch his work of art until it’s one hundred percent complete. That’s why you two let me do all the sex tests.”

“And you are so good at it,” Olga added.

“Well, thanks. The other girls on the team either have their own pets and aren’t looking for a change of pace, are happily married and aren’t looking for a change of pace, or don’t want to go against Sergei. Maria’s a prissy little girl who might swing a watch as well as you do, but still doesn’t know trance sleepy from yawning from boredom. The other D2 girls are all more worried about showing how perfect their trances are so Sergei doesn’t show them the wrong end of the spiral.”

“I asked for an explanation, not a dissertation,” Olga said impatiently. She looked towards Kelly, who seemed to be mocking them by touching her toes as she faced them, revealing that she was back in her athletic undergarments and was that much closer to being fully free. “It’s done. She’ll fly back for Christmas and you’ll return with another sucker by Little Christmas.”

“Have Maria doll her up the way only she can and get her back under as best as you can. If Kelly isn’t Katarina after tonight, you can feed me to the Falcon and use me in the Christmas auction instead,” Bridget declared with a smirk and a hand on her hip.

“Knock yourself out—literally. You know that you could never survive the Falcon, not as easily as you give up control and as much as you want to. And I wouldn’t recommend tempting Sergei. We could start the bidding for you at ten million and have a war. Or did you think we didn’t know about your Australian friend back in Seattle and how well she shares? Go for it. I look forward to the results either way,” Olga replied, thinking that Bridget had finally snapped and salivating at the price Bridget would surely fetch. But as Bridget ran out of the gym as fast as she could, Olga wondered if Bridget’s confidence was misplaced after all. Bridget could be cocky and arrogant... but she usually backed it up.

Kelly sashayed into the room with the grace of a woman whose every step was programmed, her jaw slack and her eyes as empty as they had been when the Falcon devoured her thoughts. She was clutching the ruby-eyed doll that was dressed in the same red schoolgirl outfit that she was wearing, but she didn’t seem to notice the doll except when she put it down on the floor and continued on her path to the nightstand. The emptiness of her trance gave way to arousal more and more as she got closer and closer to her relief. Her thoughts were too scrambled to notice that her pink phone and her rabbit were replaced by the flesh and blood Bridget perched on the table with an evil grin on her face. “Thought so! I know your husband’s a moron, so you had to have set it up. A nice hot chat with your loving husband, who has no idea what’s going on, keeping you as close to earth as your chains would let you, reminding you of who you were all the time. But I see it in your eyes that you don’t even know you’re doing it. You just need something nice and hot to get you going. Well, good thing you’ve got me,” Bridget said, unbuttoning Kelly’s blouse.

Kelly’s need and programming betrayed her, and she threw Bridget to the bed; the only desire in her head was to fuck the nearest person or thing she could find. Bridget purred as she worked Kelly with her tongue and hands, drawing out their sex into a long hot session that would literally fuck Kelly’s brains out. She could hear how much further Kelly was going with every moan. When Kelly came down from the climax, and her eyes had unrolled, she was limp and empty, staring back as mindlessly as the doll on the floor.

“Girls are much more fun than rabbits,” Bridget said with a smirk.

“Girls are much more fun than rabbits,” Kelly echoed, her voice empty of emotion, of tone, of thought.

“Time for Kelly to say goodbye to America, and the husband, and the rabbit—oh, and any last thoughts that might be hiding in that pretty empty brain of yours. You have nothing of your own, after all. Everything belongs to the team, and you’re a member of the team, right?”

“I am a member of the team. I am part of the team. I am property of the team. I will serve the team in any role assigned to me,” Kelly recited.

Bridget’s panties dampened again. She was so close all along! She just hid it behind the calls to the husband! I should have realized it when she looked like a zombie after Maria had fun with one of those stupid simple dolls! That tiny little bit of wiggle room... that was the difference between complete obliteration of her will and complete obliteration of my will! Phew...

She picked the doll up off the floor and tucked it into the crook of Kelly’s arm. Just as Kelly had been trained to do, she closed her eyes and slid into a mindless sleep that she would never truly awaken from. With a smile, Bridget pulled a blanket over her and went back to her room. She would need a little rest before having her fun with Katarina, after all.