The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Author’s note. This novel is pure fantasy and if you can’t realize the difference between fantasy and real life seek psychological help. Don’t read further if you’re under age and be aware that this mind control story focuses on dominance, humiliation and submission: you can expect very little romance, if any.

Copyright © 2014 Submeat! (editing by Malos) Few rights reserved (this work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License).

Do you mind if I brain?

VII. Dream and reality

Breezy summer. Under a pre-dawn brought clear sky, with only a hint of distant clouds, I’m meditating very still, sitting on a big rock. My legs are crossed and my eyes closed. I’m in the middle of a mountain meadow filled with flowers and crowned by a semicircle of rising peaks, dotted with snow. My pose embodies peace and concentration, in perfect harmony with the relaxing landscape and the only sound is the gentle lapping of a nearby creek.

Sarah is coming up to me, walking through the gradual ascending meadow. She looks around confused, trying to figure out where she is.

— “J... Jason?”

I smile without turning my head and keep my eyes shut.

— “Jason... where are we?” — she continues.

— “When are we?” — I reply cryptically.

She respectfully kneels beside the rock.

— “Why... why I’m on my knees?”

— “To show respect for a superior in hierarchy. Would you pretend to challenge my far higher authority and exhibition of intelligence?”

— “Of course not, Master” — she answers looking down, stunned by how the words come out of his mouth by themselves — “Master... someone is speaking for me, I... I feel like a ventriloquist puppet...”

— “Perhaps, hours and hours spent sitting and meditating under my spiritual guidance are bearing some results. You were completely unskilled, a useless dumbbell not worth of respect and consideration. You were not good enough to earn any people’s love. But you have learnt discipline and obedience.”

— “I have learnt discipline and obedience” — she echoes, somewhat frightened by not being in control of her words or actions.

— “Good girl... so now let’s not wait for me to command you to enjoy your improved mental disposition. Listen to your inner bliss and accept who you are. You were a worthless woman, but you did your best and you’ve finally understood your purpose. You deserve my appreciation for your hard work.”

— “Thank you master!” — she says, delighted by my judgment.

— “Feel the intimacy with your inner self. Merge with the warm overflow of your natural spirit. Submit to the bright awareness of who you really are. It is time to grow up and embrace your inborn self, to love who you are. And you know who you are, don’t you my trainee? Yes, you’re right: you are slave. Invite your playfulness and curiosity to jump right in, it’s all here and waiting to be discovered” — I say touching her forehead.

She stares blankly ahead. A bird lands on her head, chirps for a while, and then flies away.

— “Master... I feel very strange, are you messing up with my mind again?”

— “It isn’t necessary, slave. Your mind has always been a mess of stressful and unwise thoughts. Can’t you see how ridiculous your attempts at controlling life have been? Your brain patterns are so scattered and mediocre that it’s not surprising it took such a long time for you to understand that going against nature is painful and futile. Look at the creek, slave: even a little sprig waving carried away by the current is wiser and happier than you.”

Sarah stares at the clear water feeling a sad envy for the piece of wood.

— “Master, my thoughts are ridiculous and I feel very out of place. In fact, looking back to my past, I sense something ‘wasn’t right’ throughout my life.”

— “You always acted as if you could control your body and you were anguished by your delirium of omnipotence. But who is breathing when you’re not paying attention?”

— “I... my brain?”

— “Your brain knows what to do. I suggest that you notice all the ways in which you are not in control and learn to relax into just being an observer. When you’re walking, you can notice that you don’t consciously give instructions to each individual muscle. The walking just happens. If you notice your mind, your thoughts just arise. You don’t make them happen and you can’t stop them from happening. This applies to absolutely everything we do or say. We like to think we’re in control, but really we’re not.”

— “But I...”

— “No buts, slave. Relax and let go into the understanding: the knowledge that you are not in control and never have been is a huge step. And the most amazing thing is that it is so sweet when you do let go: no worries, no strain, no disappointments, no need to argue... just attain the most passive or receptive state of mind possible. Forget your failings, your lack of talents and accept you have no control over both your life and your body. Your body it’s really not yours, it’s the body of a slave. A slave to nature, to love, to lust, to life and to anyone who can make feel her useful.”

— “Useful... but, Master, I don’t like very much the idea of being used like a tool” — she says with trembling voice.

— “I know it, slave. That’s the reason why your mother despised you and I initially judged you awfully unworthy. But now you’re budding the insight that submitting to your real nature is fulfilling and I’m proud of your improvements.

Don’t feel guilty: you disappointed your mother, but it wasn’t your fault at all, slave. Can you see it now? You never have been in control: it’s not your responsibility because you are a slave to your body and to your mind. It’s not your responsibility because you are a slave to stronger and smarter masters. You have no other choice than to submit and be subservient, docile and disciplined. Feel the stress vanishing, fell the joy of giving up your will, and although some last struggles distress you, the brain is already coming around to the idea wonderfully.”

A vapid smile appears on her face.

— “Master, thank you for teaching me the path to inner peace and pleasure.”

— “Do you understand now what is the meaning of life? Isn’t it wonderfully comforting?”

— “Oh yes, it is, Master...”

— “Let the truth be as it has always been, touch it with your hands, let it sink in and dwell in your heart. Look at this rock, slave” — I point to the rock under me — “this rock is representative of the mountains that tower over the countryside. Touch it and let the truth of this rock sink in your mind.”

She puts a hand on the rock.

— “So, now” — I catechize he — “do you say that this rock is inside or outside of your mind?”

— “Inside?”

— “Ah, ah ah... How can a weak woman like you carry such a big and heavy rock in her little pretty head!? Your purpose have to be much easier for you to accomplish it and be happy. Look at this rock hard, slave” — I point my cock to her — “this rock hard is representative of the men that tower over you in everyday life. Touch it and let the truth of this rock hard sink in your mind. So do you say that this rock hard is inside or outside of you?”

— “Outside, but... still only for a short time. Use this humble slave, Masterrr...” — Sarah says in a moan and then adds visibly scared — “what... what the hell is my mouth saying???”

Before she can say anything else, her body moves by itself and she lays down on her back on the tender grass. In a moment, she spreads her legs wide with her knees bent, offering her cunt to me with a vacuous smile on her face to assert her complete taming.

I let Sarah keep on by herself with the sexual dreams in her mind and go back to work on her brain. While I’m leaving, I ask her: “do you mind if I brain?” but she is too busy fucking the Zen monk to be concerned.

I focus on the limbic system, a part of the ancient reptilian brain responsible for emotional reactions, hormonal secretions, sexual response, motivation and mood fluctuations. Limbic system is directly wired to smell, the most primitive of our senses, and my idea is to enhance specific olfactory inputs to primeval arousal centers like amygdalae where pain and pleasure conditioning of emotional response occurs. Smell is a powerful subliminal guide in many of our behaviours and is able to evoke stronger emotions than other senses, as everyone knows by personal experience when a particular scent overwhelms us and relive a vivid time and place of memory. I review the smells recorded in Sarah’s olfactory system to find those related to male scents: armpit, scrotum and butt sweat by apocrine glands contains pheromones, that is, natural aphrodisiacs which have some relaxing and arousing effects on female brain. I intensify the rate of firing of these networks enhancing their wiring to the limbic system. To reinforce my previous attempts to build up a foot fetish in her mind, I also link her memories of smelly man feet with the same stimulating pathways. I smile to myself imagining the powerful combination on future Sarah’s sexual behaviour of low self-respect, submissive drive and wild animal instincts: nobody, neither the stubborn Amazon policewoman will be able to avoid to end grovelling at the feet of a master.

As a final touch, I decide to restore her access to climax. I roll her gently from supine to prone, expose her ass and slap her naked butt: afferent pain pathways lit up and I easily follow the signal along brain stem to subcortical structures. Then, I divert the electrical impulse wiring it with the “red flag” bypassing the barrier that is impeding her orgasm. I reinforce the connection by slapping her ass again and again, until her butt is red and she unconsciously comes so hard that she wets the bed.

— “Jason... what happened?”

The bedroom door opens and a yet dazed Thomas appears. Just in time, I cover up Sarah’s bare bottom.

— “Don’t worry Thomas: you had a brief fight with Sarah and you both fell backwards hitting your heads on the wall. It was not a hard thump, but you both lost consciousness. Sarah is ok, how do you feel?”

— “As if a truck with trailer ran over me...”

— “It takes far more than that to kill you, my friend!” — I joke.

He smiles.

— “So, in a way or another, it seems she’s calmed up. In any case, I think it’s better to call a doctor as long as she is sleeping...”

— “I beg to differ, Thomas. The arrival of a doctor would probably get her hysterical again. I prefer to talk with her alone.”

— “Alone? I want to talk with her too! We had been engaged for almost two years and we had never come to blows! And now...”

— “It’s not wise to stress her by arguing on her aggressive behaviour. It’s probable that you would end to fight again. It’s far better if you go out for a walk, Thomas, and come back in two hours.”

— “No way! We both care for Sarah and we will talk with her together.”

I look at him sternly and raise the voice up a little.

— “Thomas Francis Reelson, I’ve already told you to go out for a walk and come back in two hours. Move your ass!”

His face goes pale with shock while he answers looking down.

— “O... ok, Jason... I’ll b-be back in two hours.”

The broad-shouldered policeman turns on his feet and leave.

I remain all alone with my sleeping beauty. In her dreams, Sarah is still having sex with my alter ego, the monk. I decide it’s time to gently wake her up and enjoy her improved sexuality also in the real world. While she mumbles struggling to wake up, I undress her completely, except for her coffee-colour stocking ups.

— “Wake up, sleepy head” — I say caressing her chin.

— “Uhhhhhh” — she moans as she sensually stretches on the bed.

— “Wake up, sleepy head” — I repeat — “it’s time to relieve your sexual tension.”

She stares at me, almost blank in the effort of bringing together her thoughts.

I climb on her tummy and start to fondle her perfect breasts. Her nipples get rock hard and after a while I work my way down to her cunt. When she regains focus, her sexual arousal is already fogging her mind.

— “You messed up again with my mind, I... I feel it” — she says without opposing any resistance to my middle finger slipping into her cunt.

— “It seems you’re pretty more friendly, now” — I grin — “perhaps, even if you’re just a silly woman, you’ve understood that it’s useless to fight against forces that you can’t see.”

She has no evident reaction to my words as if it’s normal for her to be labelled as silly.

— “I had a dream... Mas... Jason. It was a very strange one: you were a Zen monk and I was your disciple.”

She moans as I continue to rub her clit and let the index join the middle finger inside her cunt.

— “You subconscious had a correct intuition: you dreamed of yourself as a disciple because you feel you must be disciplined. On the other hand, a worthless thing like you has to work very hard to gain some respect from others and only through a training in obedience you can hope to become useful in the end.”

— “...d-discipline me, Jason...”

I laugh out loud.

— “So where has the stubborn amazon gone? Are you begging me to discipline you, Sarah?

She moans louder as I insert another finger in her cunt.

— “I... I don’t know what’s... happening inside my mind... my inner strength is gone, I feel sooo lowly and... relaxed...”

— “Poor Sarah, deep in your heart you knew from the beginning that you would be defeated: you are palpably weak, while nature is so powerful and alluring! What you didn’t know, on the contrary, is how blissful can it be to feel subservient.”

— “Yesss...”

I slowly withdraw my fingers from her cunt and she let out a grumble of disappointment.

— “Look at my fingers: they’re all glistening and sticky with your juices. It would be appropriate for a subservient disciple to make herself useful by cleaning it with her mouth.”

I put my moist fingers under her nose. She hesitates, but the smell is stimulating. I whisper in her subconscious I have the opportunity to forget my failings, my lack of talents and accept I have no control over both my life and body. My body it’s really not mine, it’s the body of a slave. My mouth it’s really not mine, it’s the mouth of a slave. A slave to nature, to love, to lust, to life and to anybody who can make me feel useful. I can be useful if I lick and suck, yes... being useful is my only purpose in life, so what I’m waiting? I want to lick... I want to suck... I want to lick... I want to suck... I want to lick... I want to suck...

— “J-Jason?”

— “Yes, slave?”

— “I hear again voices echoing in my mind...” — she says without displaying any significant reaction to the fact that I’ve just called her slave — “...it’s my voice, but I know it’s also the voice of the monk... and your voice...”

— “It’s the voice of your subconscious: your inner self knows what’s better for you, slave... moreover, submitting to the voice has never been so easy, since you’ve reached the awareness that throughout your life you’ve never been in control...”

She opens her mouth and her tongue gives a tentative lick to my fingers.

— “Go on, slave. My time is far more precious than yours: I’m not going to waste it waiting for you to complete your duties.”

She resumes licking with more vigour, then she takes my three juicy fingers inside her mouth.

— “That’s it, slave: now I’m proud of you. Submission is your pleasure, can’t you feel it? It seems impossible that only an hour ago you were a worthless unhappy woman, screaming and struggling against the inevitable, while now you are such a useful and blissful slave.”

Inside Sarah’s head echoes a tumultuous tangling of tingling and her feelings about of what is and isn’t pleasurable and desirable undergoes extensive revision. She lets my clean fingers free and looks at me somewhat frightened.

— “I’m changing... I feel it... I don’t want it: this is not me, this is not me!” — she says without the needed strength in her voice.

— “You’re right, slave: this is not your previous worthless, unloved and overstressed self. This is your improved useful, beloved and blissful self.”

I reinforce the concept by making her subconscious say the same thing. This is my improved useful, beloved and blissful self, This is my improved useful, beloved and blissful self, This is my improved useful, beloved and blissful self...

— “Oh... my inner voice repeats your words and no resistance arise in me... you... you have broken me, Jason, haven’t you?”

— “Yes my precious slave, you’re completely broken. You’ll do anything I want for a pleasing pat in the ass. Isn’t it marvellous?”

— “It should not be, but... I feel that it really is delightful.”

— “Good slave. This is the beginning of the happiest part of your life.”

A weak smile depicts on her face. I caress her cheek and go on to emphasize her absolute submission.

— “Some days ago you told me to go away. What do you think about it, now?”

— “I... I was frightened by my stupid speculations about mind control, but... but now I would be far more frightened at the idea that you might leave me alone” — she shudders uncomfortably at the thought of what would be of her if she will be judged useless and left over without a master to guide her.

— “Some days ago you told me that I’m an old ugly unattractive man. What do you think about it, now?”

— “I... am dreadfully sorry, Jason... I’m... I’m so meaningless and worthless...” — she stops for a while, as if to soothe her awareness to be a valueless being — “I’m... I’m so worthless that from my rank I will never allow myself to think anything like that again.”

— “Good slave. I’m your king and you’re my lower.”

While saying it, an enjoyable idea comes up to my mind, so I add pompously.

— “Follow me, my useful minion, I will make you a knight of the under-the-round-table.”

I dismount from her legs and lead her in the living room. She tamely walks behind me, barefoot in her nylon stocking ups. I undress me and sit on a chair at the round table in the centre of the room.

— “Go down on your knees slave, crawl on all fours under the table and kneel in front of my cock.”

She remains motionless on her feet for a while, next to the table, looking at the floor. Then something clicks in and she slowly goes down crawling under the table.

— “I’m proud of you my slave knight. Now face my cock, that is, the magic-sword of your king.”

I savour the sexual thrill of the moment: the fiery and stubborn policewoman is kneeling barefoot under the table, ready to be officially proclaimed my slave. I open my legs and lean forward on the seat of the chair to achieve enough freedom of motion for my rock hard cock.

— “Are you ready my slave?”

— “Y-yes...” — comes her faltering reply.

— “Now I, namely your king an master, according to the power that God has given me, with my drawn magic-sword I made you my slave knight of under-the-round table.”

And while saying that, I tap my meaty Sexcalibur first on her left shoulder, than on her right shoulder, and finally on her forehead, paying attention to push and rub my dangling balls on her nose. I feel her breath becoming fuller, and then steadily warmer against my shaft. I remain silent and continue to savour her moist breathing losing its rhythm as frenzy floods through her brain. The scent coming from my scrotum hits her hard and attains direct access to her sexual drive through the boosted firing of the olfactory pathways. I take the chance to push inside her mind the imagine of a horny slut right before her first fuck with someone she craves.

— “Oooh my... what’s happening to meee?” — she grumbles under the table — “my brain is on fire... I’m hotter than ever... what have you done to meee... I’m loosing myself... I want... I don’t waaaant, oh my...”

Overcome with passion, she gives a long lick from the base to the tip of my cock and then crawls out of the table like an unleashed tigress.

— “It seems that now my slave is in the right mood for a ravenous fuck.”

— “Yessss...” — she growls and stands to her feet with a sensual swaying, licking her lips.

— “What do you want Sarah? Beg your master for his cock.”

— “Please fuck me...”

— “Wrong choice of words. If you want my cock, slave, you must ask for it properly.”

Please master — I whisper into his subconscious — fuck this worthless slave.

— “Please master” — she starts, but a second later, a quiver shakes her brain and she unexpectedly regains some self-control — “N-no! Yes... This is wrong... oh, my Gowwd... you’ve cracked my brain... I’m...”

— “A slave. You’re a slave who is annoying her master” — I state slightly raising my voice.

Yes I’m a horny slave... I’m a mindless slave... I’m a horny slave... I’m a mindless slave — I chant all along her auditory pathways.

— “No...” — she cries, pushing at the sides of her head with her hands as if to hold up her own thoughts.

Her facial mimicry is an impossible twisting of lust and agony and she’s staring at me with a mix of love, hate, craving and repulsion.

I’m truly surprised at her resistance, after my deep work on her brain. Of course her struggling is weakened and she hasn’t the spirit to physically challenge me any more, but somehow she still is refusing to think herself as a slave.

I take the chance of her paralyzing confusion to push her further both mentally and bodily. I turn her round on her feet and slap her ass. As a result, a wave of pleasure overwhelms her brain and she almost turns to putty in my hands. I push her down on the table, bending her back so that her tummy lays on the table top.

Then I drop another a slap on her magnificent bare ass while I easily shove my cock into her wet cunt.