The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Carla’s Conversion

MF FF FT MC RB

I had suspected she was cheating. What pissed me off was it was the dumb guy, who she said was “like a brother.” Some brother. After making extensive preparations, I was ready to make my move. Chloroform, check. Handkerchief to administer with, check. Video Goggles, dvd footage, electro pulse stimulators suit, and 2 IV’s, check. It was going to be a 4 day weekend, and she and I were to go to the mountains, but after I discovered her infidelities, I decided on a different 4 day locale. Carla was going to be programmed into becoming very different from the manipulative athletic Amazon she was into something very different. She would no longer harbor resentment for the “dragon-ladies” she competed with for accounts at the office, and her racist comments and self-absorption were about to change.

I waited until Dufus drove away. When I felt safe he was gone, I knocked at the door. Naturally she assumed it was him returning and called his name when she answered the door. “Steve, did you forget...oh, Hi Nick.” Yeah, Hi Nick was right. Freaked her out. She ran to her bottle of red wine for comfort, but as soon as she turned away from me to speak, hiding the guilt in her eyes, out came the chloroform soaked cloth. She was only able to struggle for a moment then dropped like a sack of 5′11′ potatoes. He long shapely legs went limp, and her perfect breasts (implants naturally, this is LA) stood at attention beneath her nightgown. Light, she wasn’t but sufficiently unconscious to plop into the car, followed by a sexy outfit she’d wear later, and a few grocery items from her fridge.

The storage facility: I paid a little extra to the facility and was able to have 24hr access to the storage facility. I had prepped the place the day before and was ready to roll. After attaching the erotic-stimulator body suit, with nipple and clitoral electrodes to the appropriate area, a truth serum drip, video goggles and the dvd player, we were set. The second IV contained an accumulation of female body fluids from the “instuctor” on the tape, enough to give Carla the scent signals of her future mistress, and keep her hydrated during programming. It would be her only choice of drink, and soon enough she’d crave it more than an addict craves heroin. A mixture of perspiration from various parts of the body, urine and saliva, vaginal secretions, in a base of mountain spring water of course.

An injection of local anesthesia to her major muscle groups linked to a timer, would keep her immobilized until the end of the long weekend. Her well developed body, from endless hours at the gym, would be nothing more than a receptacle for instruction, useless in attempts to escape. This was a necessary precaution, she was in the kind of shape that made one erect when she’d walk in the room. She’d ride her bike the 7 miles from home to the gym and THEN work out. Her hair was long and dark, her lips full, no wonder I was so pissed she cheated on me with a guy who typified the LA intellect: slightly dumber than a bruised grapefruit.

With everything attached, I started up the equipment: A tiny Filipino woman’s voice came on the tape, her accent was very heavy, and Carla had a disdain for them, until today that is. “You are going to learn the proper way to behave now, you are going to understand who the most beautiful women in the world are and you are going to obey them without question.” Said the voice. The video screen in front of Carla’s eyes illuminated, as she stirred, unable to move. The image of tiny Filipino Feet, on a pedestal, followed by ankles, legs, and the rest of the body of the narrator. The stimulator suit came on full blast, forcing Carla’s body into pleasure, whether her mind liked it or not. Her face grimaced for a second, but the pleasure forced on her was more than even her dislike for these women, who, in her line of work were pushy and known as “sharks:” in the industry. “The Filipino woman is the perfect woman, her height is perfect, her shape and body are perfect, and her accent is a turn on, especially when she is demanding.” Carla started to perspire, resisting. She could not escape the voice, and even if she closed her eyes, the instructions would soon cure her of that, the goggles read when your eyes were open, and gave increased pleasure stimulus as a reward.

The DVD was about 30 minutes long but would repeat endlessly for the next 96 hours. 96 hours of indoctrination, orgasm, and at first the resistance, then complete compliance to the instructions. The mistress continued: “You will learn several commands in Tagala, and you will obey them instinctively. You will develop a foot and stocking fetish, and want to please your mistress. When you cannot be at her service, cowering at her feet, adoring and worshipping her perfection, you will carry her scent with you. A pair of stockings, soiled clothing, several pairs of her shoes to keep clean with your obedient tongue, will serve to remind you of your rightful position.

The views of the mistress went on to show her entire tiny body, her high cheek bones and almond eyes, her lips pursed in disgust when she gave commands, spraying saliva when she yelled into the lense. In her native tongue she would command: ‘Sit, stay, doormat position, bring slippers, clean mistress’s feet, mistress’s vagina, kiss mistress’s ass.’ The camera work wasn’t bad, and the editing was tight. The point of view was that of a slave, so it would be easy for Carla to remember these as actual memories.

She tried to move but her strong arms and legs hung limp and numb at her sides, the video continued.: “You are only good enough to serve me, not worthy to be anything but a mat under my feet. I am everything, you are nothing.” The view showed a close up of the little size 5 foot coming in close to the lense from above. “You are my personal doormat. You will lie nude and wait for me to enter, then remove my shoes and wipe my feet on you. Knowing you are being marked with my scent confirms to you that you are nothing more than my property. My scent makes you obey, worship, and need to be my slave. I can make you my robot just by giving the command, when I do you can hold still for hours and not move, not talk. You exist to obey me!”

The DVD continued, and I decided to go get a burger, and some shut eye.

DAY 2 I came back the next day to see how 24 hours of programming had progressed. What I saw when I entered the storage was pure poetry. Carla had sucked the fluid bag dry, craving her mistress’s scents and fluids. I installed a second, larger bag, with lower concentration of spring water and more of the aforementioned fluids. After knocking her out again I gave her a sponge bath sponge bath. Man, she was so hot, I had to get a nut off just cleaning her tall slender frame. What the hell I thought, she probably needed the protein anyway, considering her diet for the weekend. I inserted the second DVD and brought her back to consciousness, the training continued.

“Now we accelerate your obedience and submissiveness, you will relinquish total control to me, and I will be able to operate you almost by remote control. My commands over the phone will put you into the mode I desire, and you will obey without question. Your fetish will increase to obsession. You will be unable to look a Filipino woman without getting extremely turned on, extremely submissive, and without wanting to clean her feet and private parts with your obedient tongue. You are not worthy to approach her, she must command you to comply. You can only helplessly squeeze your legs open and shut, almost bringing yourself to orgasm if she ignores you. You are desperate for the approval of and submission to Filipino women, their feet, their vaginas and asses, their scent.. If you see a TV show you will stare at them and helplessly masturbate, unable to come without imagining yourself being given permission to by your mistress.”

Carla was far from resisting after only 24 hours. I licked my lips in anticipation of how she’d be by the end of day 4. It was possible to decrease the local anesthesia to her extremities, as all she wanted to do now was act out the commands of the mistress on the video, even if it was on her back and in slow-motion.

“Every thought that has ever turned you on outside of serving Filipino women is now gone!” Screamed the little dominatrix on the scream. “You can only get turned on by what I tell you, and you need it. You are so addicted to the scent and flavor of your mistress and women like her, that you will go to her part of town, and buy the used shoes and try-on stockings to take home and worship. You will apply for a job at the ladies shoe store so you can serve the female clientele, and take their warm shoes off, and put new ones on their little feet. You will be unable to ask for a mistress, but must wait for one to select you. This is because you are not worthy to be anything but the mat under our feet, the tongue that licks our parts clean, and robot who waits for commands.”

Carla writhed in almost orgasm, just one the edge, she’d either be insane or completely programmed by the end of day 4. It was getting late, and time to go, for me anyway

DAY 3-The second, larger fluid container had been drained, and Carla was unconscious, spent from all the sexual frustration and 24 more hours of training. I placed a well worn pump, from the mistress herself, as well as several others from her friends and other Filipino women she knew, onto a circular device that would rotate a shoe into position every hour. She’d be able to lift her head enough to get her nose and tongue inside, without too much neck strain. DVD no 3 was placed in the slot and turned on.

Her mistress’s voice came on and barked a command: in Tagala, that meant: “clean my shoes now servant.” Carla’s moans of pleasure were authentic, as she writhed, incredibly turned on by the well-used pump that rested only centimeters above her face, it’s pungent scent conditioning her to submissive addiction. The commands continued:

DAY 4-The shoes were all quite clean by the next day, and Carla seemed a bit parched. Another fluid bag was set-up, and the straw placed in her mouth. Soiled Panties were placed over her face, and like the shoes would rotate. I sponge bathed her again and inserted the final dvd. Boy, computers were great I thought, being able to make these with only a weekend shoot, a dominatrix and a digital camera.

The final DVD instilled more commands to put Carla into robot mode when prompted, non-English speaking maid mode when prompted, mannequin mode when prompted and made her own tastes and desires a distant fog, with the exception of her skill at making money. She would after all be unworthy of keeping it, diverting it to her mistress, and even letting her mistress move in so she could sleep nude at the foot of her bed, and keep her tiny feet warm. Being brought to the storage would never be remembered, nor would my arrival at her house 4 nights ago. She would awake in her own bed, take a nice shower after masturbating herself silly, then get dressed for a date with Nick.

That night:

I arrived on time and drove us to a nice supper club in Long Beach, populated by 90% Filipinos. Carla had been pretty much herself until we pulled in the driveway. It was like I had a female dog in heat with me. She looked at the legs and feet of every Filipino girl in the place, and when she got caught by chicks uninterested in her, she averted her eyes in submission. You could see she felt like an ugly duckling in a room full of swans, swans she’d be happy to lick from head to toe and then have them order her around.

We sat at a table across from a familiar face. She had on a revealing dress and a pair of black suede pumps. She kept kicking the shoe half on and half off, revealing her tiny foot to Carla’s hungry eyes. Her shoe eventually fell off and landed next to me. Carla was quick to knell and pick it up. I saw her thumb run the perimeter of the inside of the shoe before she looked up at the mistress, doe eyed, submissive, in awe. The mistress extended her tiny foot and Carla, hands trembling put the she shoe on it, making sure her thumb again brushed the foot itself. She was waved away by the mistress and returned to the table. I asked if she was ready to order and she said, “I haven’t looked at the menu yet..” Then slyly stuck her thumb first under her nose then into her mouth, as if he was undecided. The flavor put her into a trance. Her expression was blank, and her eyes glazed over. The mistress walked past me and said something in Tagala when she walked past Carla. Carla stood up and followed her into the rest room. The mistress sat down in a stall. Carla stood in trance in it’s doorway. The Mistress pulled down her panties and began to urinate. She commanded. “Get in here!” and close the stall behind you!” Carla complied. She barked out another command, Carla dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. The mistress extended her leg up and put her pump clad foot in Carla’s face. “Take off shoe and clean your mistress’ foot!” Carla snapped out of trance and began to eagerly lick the genuine article, after the intense programming she was thrilled to be really licking actual foot! “Do you think you are better than me?” asked the mistress. “Oh no, said Carla, I am honored to be able to lick your feet clean mistress, I only hope I am worthy to serve you. I know Filipino women are meant to command me.”

“Very good, you will now lick me clean, and taste the sweet nectar of your mistress.” “Thank you, thank you,” whispered Carla, as she dug her face into the crotch of the tiny woman, lapping at her, breathing in her musky scent, and licking her hair dry, the acrid drops like honey on her tongue. “You may come, now, and in the afterglow of your orgasm, you are my personal robot.” Carla let out a terrific moan, and shuddered as she dug her eager face into the crotch of her exotic controller. The mistress grabbed Carla’s hair and shoved Carla’s face deeper into her crotch. Carla convulsed in release. When she stopped moving, the mistress, have cum herself, yanked back Carla’s head like she was a doll. Carla’s expression was that of a robot, as were her movements.

“Now,” purred the mistress, “stand up”. Carla rose to her feet, silently. “We drive to my house now, I need to show you off to my lady friends, you will be privileged to worship and clean several ladies this week, and every week until I decide I am bored with you. Then, who knows, maybe I sell you to my friend in Manila, she likes to keep the girls in her brothel pleasured when they are not working. You would like that, being the doormat for 20 Filipino girls, wouldn’t you?” “Yes ma’am, I exist to serve and worship the Filipino woman.”

Carla’s conversion was complete. She would never utter another unkind word about Filipino women, she’d never put her foot in her mouth at a meeting, but then she’d rather put theirs in her mouth anyway.