The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


He was dreaming again.

Dreaming of hanging out with his friends on a Saturday night, empty bottle beers rolling on the nightclub table while a blonde stripper with fake tits did her best to have another hundred-dollar bill wrapped around her glittering thong.

Dreaming of heading out to buy clothes and having to choose which ones to get.

Dreaming of coming home from a double shift at the hospital, removing his shoes, and sitting on the sofa, watching a basketball game with a bag of popcorn in hand.

Dreaming of going to bed alone and not having to justify his whereabouts or his daily routines to anyone.

It was a fucking nightmare!

Cameron opened his amber eyes to the dead of night and sat against the fluffy pillow, chilling beads of sweat gathering above his furrowed brow. Lying next to him, Julia sprang to attention as well, sultry hand playing invisible notes on his recently shaven chest.

“Did it happen again?”

“Yes.” He trembled, lips terrified of the words they had to utter next. “I think it’s getting stronger.”

“Are you sure?” She pushed the black satin sheet away and turned on the lamp on her side.

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay.” She gave him a gentle kiss on his right cheek. “I was hoping we had seen the last of it, but not a problem. I’ll be right back.” She jumped out of bed and headed into the master bathroom.

“Do we still have enough?”

“For now, yes. However, if things get worse, I’ll have to nag Mom again. I really don’t want to but...”

“I’m sorry I’m putting you through this.” He suddenly sobbed.

“I know, but I also know it’s not your fault. You’re sick, dear, but don’t worry, medicine is right here.” She returned to him, dripping needle in hand.

Even inside the syringe, the brainwashing drug had an acrid smell. He hated being near it, yet it solved his predicament. The 2020 M-Virus had increased his natural testosterone production to critical levels, filling his mind with desires of independence that were as pointless as dangerous. They needed to be controlled. Thankfully, he had a nurse Mistress always on his side, one that never lied to him.

“This will hurt as always but you know you can take it.” She cooed.

“Yes. Anything for you.” He replied, eyes lingering on her cleavage.

Julia looked for an exposed vein on his right arm and immediately stabbed him. The yellow-green liquid swirled as it pumped into his bloodstream. The subsequent burning sensation made Cameron squeal, an uncontrollable itch spreading through every inch of his body.

“Oh, fuck!” He cried.

“Easy now.” She hugged him. “Let it spread. You’ll feel better in no time.”

Yes, he would. Like always. Despite believing he was gaining some sort of tolerance to the chemical compound, he had to endure the discomfort for her. No Goddess deserves a confused servant.


“Your dreams are just that, my dear. Dreams. You do not have free will. You can never have it as long as we’re together. Please repeat what I just said so that your brain resets to its default state.”

“My dreams are just dreams. I don’t have free will.” He droned, eyes turning white.

“Go back to sleep now and focus only on the truth. Sleep, my slave. Sleep.”

Cameron collapsed on the mattress, all muscles loose and limp. The aching pain would take all night to subside, but at least he was in peace, dreaming of...

... performing a mindless dance for her and her sisters on a Saturday night while they laughed at the cold metal piercing his cock;

... following her on a shopping spree, credit card in his mouth and then rushing home to try out the new pink thongs she had chosen for him;

... coming home from a double shift at the hospital and serving as living furniture while his barefoot Goddess binge-watched the latest season of her favorite TV show;

... going to bed only to have her ride him all night long while he told her everything she wanted to know and more;

It was wonderful.