The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Eh, that’s more like it. No smile, look like you don’t know where you are.. I know that look. Much better, chiquita,” the Latina said with a feral grin.

“Whatever. Don’t you have something to be chained to?” Barbara bit back.

“You wish. Rub my middle for- ay, but you wouldn’t know. I used to be a bondage controller. Ask any man in the DR about La Loba de Pueblo San Roberto. They’ll tell you everything you need to know about Beatriz. Fucked ‘em hard, fucked ‘em long, and when I was done with ‘em, I sold ‘em off to the cane farms or the baseball fuckers. Made millions when the entire town had a nickel to its name. But what would you know about that, preciosa?”

“I don’t even wanna know what they do to you,” Barbara muttered.

“Eh, it’d make you all dirty, and no one wanna see you shower again,” Beatriz replied.

Barbara rolled her eyes and joined the main line as the other girls gathered together, waiting her turn to be called; she didn’t know what they did to late risers here, but she wasn’t going to be the one who found out.

“Hey there!” Gwen called. “They treat you okay? The victim’s zen is just crap. So I get put into an itty bitty bra and have to stretch so everyone sees my crotch while they dope my water and put a spiral on the TV and act like they own me. Fuck, give me any of those dudes and I’d still blow their minds and suck the free will right out of them.” The words were Gwen, and the bravado was still there, but it was all a false front, recited by rote. If anything, Gwen seemed a little turned on by the sexy stretching. And Beatriz had seemed the same way, all talk but none of the real feeling.

“Want my iPod? I’d make you jump off a bridge if it’s too much,” Barbara said, trying to show her old self and hearing the empty lack of emotion behind her words.

“Nah, they already gave me one. Pretty shitty subliminals, but they have to use fifty methods to hide how shit their equipment is. Government budget, you know,” Gwen shot back, but she sounded like a recording.

Soon the black suits came in, and they were ready for her. The dress was tighter this time and only came down to her knee, and the sparkles dazzled her faster than before. The idiot they were cultivating to take over he body came to the fore, and the rest of the gear fell into place, allowing part of her mind to disassociate from the control and watch her body get victimized. Part of her was curious- had she had that nightmare for a reason, as a warning of what was to come? Would they at least let her feel the pleasure? Or was something worse in store for her?

She felt herself walking to the spirals, but on the other side. She looked around, recognizing Beatriz in the leather micromini and tight bustier and Gwen in loose sweatpants and a letter jacket with Labyrinth Mud Wrestling in curling font. The door locked, and the part of Barbara watching in the corner dreaded what was next, remembering her intake and what had happened to her. Soon the mind-shattering klaxon rang, and those not being punished separately started walking. Some were glassy-eyed by the time they reached the bottom, but most were eying the rabid pack of wolves and wondering what was happening to them.

Then suddenly she was out of her corner- held in place, but that only made the rage worse. All her bravado, all her hunger to control, every urge she had ever had to destroy the pretty perfect girls who thought they had everything- it was back, and there they were, all those pretty girls who thought they could control the world and had ended up in the same pit as Barbara.

“What’s with the pig?” someone snarked as she passed Barbara.

“Oh, my phone is for you, bitch! Answer it if you dare!” Barbara sniped.

“Please, are we stuck in that PSA with the retard prom queen?” another asked.

“Wanna try on my tiara? Forget retarded, it’ll make you feel like a cocksucking whore!” Barbara retorted. Most of her was enjoying this, and the dommes she was next to were having fun letting off their rage at the newbies and the tired. But after a few volleys, Barbara realized that this was part of the script too. She had nothing of hers, none of her devices, none of her code. Nor did anyone else. Gwen’s allure was tempered by the loose pants and the letter jacket, and Beatriz had none of the ropes and collars she would have used.

Her panties rubbed against her slit, and she wondered when the idea of bondage had turned her on, until she realized that she hadn’t been thinking about Beatriz’s methods. She was lusting for her prey, as she always had- except that she couldn’t get to them. They were protected by the fence. She could taunt them, tease them, watch them slip under, feel the rage that broke them, but not touch them. And they couldn’t touch her- couldn’t touch anyone. All they could do was keep walking until they lost whatever was left of their minds. Exposed to the presence, the taunts, the desire, but can’t be had she thought as another girl went blank in the presence of her dress and her sexual come-ons.

They’re breaking my need to control... controlling me with need, she thought, but she was slipping to the intense desire burning in her, her taunts becoming more wanton pleas as she clung to the fence for support. It almost hurt when the horn sounded and she was led off somewhere else. Once, she would have been embarrassed at how wet her panties were as the guards stripped her and put her in the shorts and tank top she had to wear when she flew in. She didn’t know where she was going, but she was led into the elevator and into a theater around an MMA ring filled with mud. A nagging suspicion started in the back of her head, but she could barely pay attention, and neither could anyone else.

Her mouth sucked on the lollipop she was given, and as she cooled down inside, she felt the idiot strengthening and coming back on the outside. She was about to be given another lesson, and she had a nagging feeling she knew what it was going to be. Sure enough, Gwen came into the ring and faced a lean, mean black woman in a blue singlet. Gwen didn’t stand a chance; her opponent dominated her thoroughly, throwing her around in the mud until Gwen had turned the same shade of dark brown as the other woman. Further up, in the balconies, male voices hooted and yelled as the champion threw off Gwen’s bra and showed off her breasts to the crowd. Soon Barbara was applauding with everyone else, not caring what was going on when Gwen was stripped naked and the match turned into a girl-girl show.

Then came the showers, which were fifty times more exciting than the match as both girls went down on each other. Barbara got aroused again, faster this time, and she felt her hand slip into the shorts, but she could do nothing but stare and drool as one of the guards helped the champion parade Gwen around the room, naked, writhing, and begging for someone to fuck her.

Gwen’s gaze fell on Barbara, and for a moment Barbara thought she saw the little bit of Gwen that was held back from the punishment looking out at her, trapped the same way that little part of Barbara’s mind was trapped. Barbara opened her mouth to try and provide some reassurance. “Yeah, that’s a slut! More mud next time, and how about some blood? Bitch, you better make this prom queen fuck herself with her scepter!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, shorts coming loose as she stood and ogled Gwen’s breasts.

Gwen squirmed, showing off her body- no, the programming, Barbara thought, her awareness fading out. I’m sorry... She held herself long together to realize that she was being hauled to a jail cell like the one she had been expecting when she first arrived in the Labyrinth, except that it wasn’t. There was a spiral on one side of it, holding her eyes in place, loosening her body, taking her deeper into the emptiness-

She shuddered and forced herself to look away- but her gaze was immediately drawn to the pattern of lights on another wall, such pretty lights that she had to follow, confusing and dazzling and dazing her, just like the ones on her phone, the colors melting and shifting, and they were so pretty...

Oh, that’s... that’s clever... she thought, and she forced herself to look away from them, but that brought her back to the spiral, and when she remembered that she had to look away from the spiral, she had to remember that she needed to look away from the lights. She finally found a different wall- but this one was a non-stop loop of compelling porn, showing her all the myriad ways a woman could be debased and making her love it more and more with every second.

The fourth wall was blank, or at least she thought it was, but she was no longer sure if she could trust the evidence of her senses. There was music in the background, a stupid repetitive tune that drove all thought out of her head. She tried to look away from the porn, but that drew her back down into the spiral, and when she pulled herself out of the spiral, she ended up lost in the lights, and back and forth and on and on until the overload was too much for her and she collapsed into bed without a thought in the world.

The cycle continued the next day, if it was a day, this time with Beatriz being suspended from the ceiling by her whips in an incredible circus act, writhing around in the bonds like she had been born to them. Then there was another day, if it was a day, with the naughty teacher demonstrating how well she could be used for any volunteers. But Barbara wasn’t sure if it was a day or not. The days and the nights, or the mealtimes and the sleeptimes, blended together into a cycle of desiring control and watching others becoming victims, repeating over and over again until it became a colored blur. She hid further and further in her corner, unable to hear a word anyone said, only knowing that they were victims and she was a victim and they were all going mad.

Then she heard the tiara in her ear again, and it was her turn to be the center of attention. Someone put her in the center of the theater and pointed her at the teleprompter. “I love my school! I’m so glad you gave me your votes in this year’s grand erection- umm, election! I’m so proud to be your queen, to serve you with a smile across my face and my legs thrusting in motion- I mean, I love to spread my love around like I do my legs!” Barbara said to growing laughter. She couldn’t stop- she couldn’t even look away from the blinking teleprompter that held her fast. The tiny part of her mind that stayed free was near tears as the slut jokes, both the ones coming out of her mouth and the suggestions from the audience, got worse and worse.

And then she heard them, familiar voices that she never imagined she would find in this particular hell. “Hey, Big Waist Barbie! Whose idea was this costume? You should be a sumo wrestler for Halloween!” a familiar looking brunette in a black and orange cheerleader dress said, strutting towards Barbara.

“Oxana? No, Justine!” Barbara said in disbelief.

“Had it right the first time!” someone else said. “I mean, look at Foxy Oxie’s panties, they haven’t been dry in two years. That bitch’s just lazy. Look at me. Mine haven’t been dry since I stole your iPod. Should say, since you set me up to take it. Knew it the second I turned it on. No matter how loud I turn it up, my tits shouldn’t get stiff at my parents’ music.”

“What? Kelly? That was when I didn’t know what I was doing,” Barbara said back.

“Oh, you know what you were doing. You were doing us! Oh, wait! That makes you a- ohh, you little lezzie, you! You still having problems holding the water back? Good thing for you that I’m Petra and I’ve done more women than men! Who knew Siberians like other girls to keep them warm,” the blonde cheerleader said with a laugh-but as Barbara watched, her innocent cheer outfit turned into a gold micromini with nothing on underneath and even less concealed. She rose up on her toes to let her sneakers flash into gold spike heels.

“What the fuck. What the fuck?” Barbara asked, starting to hyperventilate. This couldn’t be real. But it felt just as real as her pillorying, but how real was that?

“Hmm, for you, special discount. Three hundred thousand for gift,” Oxana said, kicking her leg high in the air. Her clothes disintegrated into nothingness. Shaking out her hair, the brown faded into bright platinum blonde, her accent becoming Russian as she muttered about Barbara. Barbara couldn’t look away from her bare, glistening slit.

“Wha- what- wh...”

“Awww, how very cuuuuuuuuuuteee! She’s speechless! Would it be better if we set it to music? I know, how about Dolly Parton! Nahh, too me God forbid I be me anymore, right, Barbie doll?” a tall strawberry blonde with a baby face said, strutting in and sitting down next to Barbara, crossing her bare legs seductively.

“Jolene! You were the nicest of them, the follower! You would have snitched! I had to! I told them to be gentle! Brothels only. Legal ones, and Alexei said they complied,” Barbara said, trying to excuse herself and get away, but her body betrayed her as she stared long and hard at the naked whores before her.

“I know, Barbie doll. Just relax and listen. It’ll make you feel so good, just like the brownie party.” Jolene smiled, her lips a cherry red that couldn’t be natural.

“Oh, when you doped me up because Petra had to hide her pot? And then you guys stuck the video of me stoned on YouTube? You know what, fuck you, Elena. I knew that was you. You earned it like the rest of them. I loved it when you gave in! Vindictive bitch, playing both sides to set me up every time,” Barbra snapped with a sudden surge of confidence.

“Aww, always thinking you’re smarter than the head of the class. Just... hold... still,” Jolene- Elena- said, her voice getting deeper and the Russian accent getting stronger with every word. She lowered her skirt slowly, and as it slid down her legs, it left behind black and silver leggings that clung to every inch of her skin. She removed her top to reveal a matching bra, then shook out her hair into pink and green waves. A spike collar shot out of her neck, and she smirked as tattoos began to appear on her skin.

Everything that Barbara heard next was in Russian as the whores took out her purse and took out a large wad of bills. “Enough,” Oxana said, and Petra licked her lips before moving in on Barbara. She couldn’t resist, though the part of her in the corner was caught in sheer horror. She tried to turn her head, but her body seized in delight she had never felt before in her life. It wasn’t just three on one- it was three expert fucking machines hotwiring a fat idiot. Whenever they relented to let her catch her breath, more money spilled out of her purse, and the whores just came back stronger. Barbara’s eyes rolled back into her head as the earbuds went into her ears.

The insults came back fourfold, the old curses, the taunts she had twisted around, new ones that barely had any meaning to her. “Murderer, whoremonger, demon, witch, vampire, controller, kidnapper, trafficker, mobster, Russian spy, Soviet traitor, flag burner, hedonist, torturer, useless waste, monster...” she heard over and over again as more and more of her brains were fucked out by the three trained sex artists. Each orgasm brought more and more torture to Barbara-in-the-corner, even as her body enjoyed the stimulation with reckless abandon. Then finally it ended, and she laid there empty and naked. The whores divided up their money and spun around, going from sex dolls to sweet cheerleaders with their lives ahead of them.

“Told ya, Jo, total fat slut. She’d totally make out with a frog if she was told it was a prince. Didn’t think dad’s blow up doll would come in handy,” Kelly giggled, smoothing out her skirt.

“So desperate I’m shocked she didn’t turn lezzie! Oh, with our short skirts, that would be so bad!” Justine taunted.

“Well, they go lez because no guy would go inside of that! C’mon, why do you think all the lezzies are fatsos?” Jolene added with a smirk as she zipped up her jacket.

“Yeah! Loser!” the three of them chorused.

Barbara could do nothing but pant, lying there half-asleep from a long vibrator session, dead batteries scattered around her and the motor of the vibrator still hot against her hand.

“To think she thought we were her whores! Can you imagine? I wouldn’t touch that for anything! C’mon, Justine, here’s her mom’s life savings. Jo, you take daddy’s, and I’ll take the trust fund!” Kelly said with a laugh. The three cheerleaders stuffed the money in their bags and began to walk off to practice.

“No! Please! I’m sorry! Jo, Kelly...”

“JUSTINE!” Barbara screamed as she awakened again- awake, so that had all been a nightmare. Right? But what the nightmare had been, and when it started or ended, she was no longer sure. Had it been another trick? Had someone undone her work and brought back Justine, Jolene, and Kelly? No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

That’s the road to Crazy Town, Barb! She took a deep breath and stared at the stone walls around her. It could be two in the afternoon three summers after they got me, and I wouldn’t know down here, with everything they’ve done to me, or at least everything I think they’ve done to me. Shit. And did she- did I- show remorse for those bitches? After what they did to me?

This was getting out of control, and she knew it. She needed something, anything, to get her mind off what the Labyrinth was doing to her and what it had in store for her. She looked around wildly, but that didn’t help. The room was full of women doing the same thing, twenty- now twenty-one as another distant scream echoed off the walls and another girl jerked up from her bed. She looked at her fellow prisoners, but the only differences between them now were physical- hair, height, skin color, build. Everything else was the same. All of them were terrified, all of them were lost and confused, none of them knew what was real and what was a side effect of their unique punishment.

The steady tap of high heels in an implacable march drew her thoughts away from the misery she shared with her fellow prisoners. One of the guards was marching through, as controlled as the rest of them, given different directions but still lost. Tap, tap, tap, tap, pause, flash. Tap, tap, tap, tap, pause, flash. One by one, the other girls scared awake collapsed back onto their cots. Some resisted, some didn’t, but none lasted more than a few seconds.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, and the pause was in front of Barbara, and the flash was in Barbara’s face. She could barely see, but what she saw was enough. Unfocused dark eyes, a familiar face- and a Dominican accent coloring the single command, “Sleep.”

It was too easy for Barbara to surrender, and she was limp in her bed in less than a second.