The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

James and Ashley were an unlikely pair. Most wouldn’t have predicted that the introverted mechanical engineer and an outgoing artist would have much in common.

But the two of them had met through a mutual friend in college, and quickly became friends.

It was obvious to everyone that James had a huge crush on Ashley, but he was realistic about things. Ashley was already in a relationship, and he never had a girlfriend before.

Plus, if he was honest, he needed friends more than he needed a girlfriend. Their mutual friend was James’ one and only buddy, and even he was more of an acquaintance.

So James had buried his feelings and started putting in the work of being a good friend, because he liked Ashley. Not just her amazing body, but her kind personality, the way she laughed, the way she always saw the good in people. She melted his more cynical heart, and helped him appreciate the humor, love and laughter that could be had if you waited for it.

Ashley and James balanced each other out in a lot of ways. She was mercurial, constantly flitting from project to project, and mood to mood. Meanwhile, James was down to Earth and with a fairly clipped emotional range that usually hovered between “okay” and “pretty good.”

In time, Ashley started to rely more and more on James. When she broke up with her boyfriend, he was there to be a stable shoulder for her to cry on. When she started more casual hook-ups with guys, he was there to hear her complaints about how shitty they could sometimes treat her.

There was no guile in James’ care for her at this point, no agenda. After months of getting to know her, he had come to truly care about Ashley’s well being, and wanted whatever was best for her, and he happened to privately believe that it wasn’t him. Not as a romantic partner at least.

It was a pleasant surprise when James discovered Ashley had an interest in comic culture quite by accident.

James had been careful to keep his nerdier interests from conversations with Ashley—preferring deep conversations about the big questions in life, which she always had interesting perspectives on. For her part, Ashley had always kept this niche interest close to her chest preferring to engage in online spaces.

They discovered their mutual interest when James went, alone, to the big comic convention in his city. He had been walking through the artist alley, admiring the art when he saw a familiar face behind one of the booths.

“Ashley, is that you?” he had asked in surprise.

“James, I didn’t expect to see you here!” she said.

“Is this art yours?” he asked, admiring the posters all over the booth.

Ashley had blushed, and looked down. “No, I’m not the artist. One of the artists on the fandom Discord I manage was looking for a last minute fill in, and I volunteered. Although, I’m loving the environment here, I’ve never really been to one of these things, and I was able to get a photo with Stephen Amell, which was a lot of fun.”

“It’s my first con as well, actually,” he admitted. “I always thought it would be embarrassing to come alone, but, uh… Well, I guess I got over it.”

Ashley smiled. “Well, it’s good bumping into you!”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were interested in this stuff, so if you ever want to chat about it hit me up.”

That turned out to be a fateful day.

James joined Ashley’s Discord server, and they started doing cosplays at smaller cons together.

And since they were no longer holding themselves back from each other, they started to grow closer and closer. Until Ashley surprised James by informing him that she had been flirting with him for months, and, after picking his mouth up from the ground, he had agreed to her offer for a date.

It had been 10 years since then, and the two of them had now been married for a little over a year.

James’ mechanical engineering job brought in most of the cash, but he was happy to support Ashley making her amazing art. She was mostly a fan artist, but there was something so special about the personality and skill she put into every poster.

Ashley had run a few successful kickstarters for card sets, and was a regular sight at con circuits.

However, it took constant reassurance from James to make her believe that her art was actually good. In spite of going to college for an art degree, in spite of being assured by everyone around her that her art was amazing, and in spite of making decent cash from commissions and from cons, she always seemed to find it hard to believe that her art was worth anything.

It seemed like almost every month, James had to beg her not to destroy the latest piece she had made because it was amazing, and he had found her crying in the office lamenting how terrible an artist she was over and over again.

James wanted to help his wife, but he had started feeling like she needed more help than his support alone could provide. So he decided to invent something to help her realize just how amazing an artist she was.

It took several months, but it was ready for their second wedding anniversary.

Ashley ripped open the box James had wrapped for her, and had tried not to let her face fall when a strange electronic device fell into her lap.

“Thank you for the, uh, thing!” she said, feigning enthusiasm. “I’m sure this will be very useful honey.”

James shook his head. “It’s not just any thing. This device can help you relive different parts of your life, by temporarily suppressing your memories. I thought it would be nice for you to show your past self exactly how awesome you had become!”

Ashley’s eyes filled with tears. “James, I don’t know what to say.”

He wiped the tears, and looked lovingly into her eyes.

“Don’t say anything,” he said. “Just wait until the big comic con in two weeks. Then you’ll get the chance to show your younger self the amazing artist you’ve become.”

The fateful day arrived.

Ashley and James had spent the morning setting up her booth in artist alley, as had become their habit at every con. She frowned looking at her work.

Sure, she would probably sell a lot of posters today, but what did that matter? It was all crap.

She almost wanted to put everything away, and go hide in a hole right there. The only thing keeping her going today was the promise that James was going to test the device on her, and give her more perspective on her own art.

But she started to be plagued by doubts. Would her younger self really like her own art?

What if James and everyone else was wrong, and she was a terrible artist?

Ashley tried to suppress these doubts, as she put the finishing touches on her booth.

“Well, it looks like we’re done,” James said. “Are you ready to see what the rest of the world already knows?”

Ashley bit her lip, and looked at her feet. “I’m ready.”

James handed her a note, and pointed the device at her. He had set everything up that morning. When he pressed the button it would zap away 10 years of memories. Mentally, she would return to that first con 10 years ago where she had volunteered to help a friend man their booth.

James clicked the button, and then walked away.

Ashley blinked, as she saw a man (another artist?) walk away from her. He looked strangely familiar, but she would never in a million year have guessed that he was her friend James after quite the post-college glow up.

She looked down at the note in her hand.

It explained that her friend had already set up booth C31, and she would just have to run it. Someone would bring pizza around lunch, and Ashley was going to get $200 for helping out today.

Ashley looked up at the booth labelled C31.

The art looked incredible. Just breathtaking.

She loved the use of shading, and the way the characters seemed like they could just step out of the poster and into the real world. She looked down at her feet glumly.

She would never be able to make art like that.

Sure, she had been sketching since her embarrassing middle school days, but she knew that even with years of practice she’d never be able to touch her online acquaintance’s art.

She sighed, and sat down behind the booth.

The con-goers were going to start pouring in, and she couldn’t let her misgivings get in the way of being a good saleswoman for this amazing art.

Ashley quickly fell into a routine.

People would wander by her booth, and most would take a glance and move on. But a few were more slow and deliberate about their perusal.

Inevitably, people in groups would compliment the art, and Ashley would have to wave her hands and say that she wasn’t the artist. That she was just doing a favor for someone.

Ashley couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Sure, some professors in her art program had tried to tell her that her fundamentals were quite good, and she had the potential to be a great artist one day. But she knew the truth.

The people who stopped by the booth and complimented the art would never compliment her own art if it was hanging there instead.

And it made her feel so despondent.

But she smiled through her storm clouds, and continued to sell poster after poster. Luckily, she didn’t have to do much work selling people on the art, it sold itself.

Around noon, a familiar looking guy came around and dropped a pizza box in front of her. He was the guy she had seen walking around earlier.

“Thanks for that!” Ashley said.

“No problem,” he said.

Instead of leaving, he started to make Ashley a little nervous by hovering near the table and watching her eat.

“The art is really beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yeah,” Ashley said. “But I’m thinking of quitting my art career after seeing it.”

“Oh?” he said.

“It’s just too good! Why would I keep making my crappy art, in a world where art like this is being made? The world doesn’t need another half-decent artist in it.”

The man seemed to have a knowing smile. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll feel differently at the end of the day.”

Ashley didn’t know what he meant by that, but he walked away without another word.

Weirdo.

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. Ashley allowed herself a few breaks, and even got to talk to an actor from one of her favorite old sci fi shows. Although he seemed even older than she remembered!

By the end of the day, she had sold out of three posters, and wasn’t far off on most of the rest.

Her artist friend was going to make a pretty penny at least.

She started packing up for the day, and she saw the strange man from earlier starting towards her. She hoped he wouldn’t try to strike up a conversation again.

He tried to pull something out of his pocket, but two people moving some furniture from the green room bumped into him and sent whatever it was clattering to the ground.

For a second, Ashley considered picking it up and helping the man, but one of the people moving the furniture set his side down, and picked up the thing, which looked like a black box with a lot of wires, roughly into his hand.

James blinked in confusion, and looked down at the object that had been pressed into his hand, hearing the button unclick.

What was going on?

He looked around, and recognized the comic con venue, although everything seemed to be in the middle of being torn down at the moment.

“Cool, prop,” a burly looking man said, looking down at the device in James’ hand. “What show is it from?”

“Show?” James asked.

“Yeah, what is it from?” the man asked.

James didn’t know how to answer, so he just made something up. “It’s, uh, from the original run of Star Trek. Pretty obscure episode.”

The man nodded, and moved on, satisfied with James’ answer.

James looked around the large hall, wondering if he should just leave. Then he saw Ashley behind him packing up a booth.

Only… it couldn’t be Ashley.

Ashley was about his age—around 20, and the woman he saw there looked to be about 30.

The resemblance was so striking though. He wondered if it could be Ashley’s older sister or something?

Ashley had never mentioned a sister though, and it would be strange for such a close friend to never mention something like that.

Oh, well. James only had two friends, and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself by asking if the woman there was the older sister of his friend Ashley. Besides, the con was over and she was probably happy to leave after a long day, without a college aged twerp bothering her.

James decided to take the bus back to his dorm room.

Meanwhile, Ashley had made a resolution. After she packed everything away for the person to man the booth tomorrow, she was going to run away and start a new life in a new city.

It was a bit impulsive, but it felt like the right solution.

She couldn’t tell her parents that she had failed as an artist. She didn’t want to formally drop out of college. It would be too painful to confide this to her best friend James.

She took a deep breath, and then left the con. She threw her phone away on the way out.

She didn’t want all of her friends to find out about her failure. It was so much better this way.

Ashley pulled out her wallet, and walked to the Greyhound bus station a few blocks from the convention center. Her new life awaited!

It was quite a shock when James discovered that he had amnesia. He had gone to his college dorm room, and had been told that he no longer lived there by its current occupant.

An argument of sorts had ensued, and the guy had hit the Star Trek prop out of James’ hands, dashing it against the dorm room floor.

James had wandered campus confused, until he thought to check his wallet. His driver’s license listed an unfamiliar address on it, but that wasn’t all.

Under age, it said: 30.

Jame’s head spun.

30? He was only 20! How had this happened? Had he hit his head or something?

He took an Uber to the address, and found a nice suburban home waiting for him.

He pulled the keys out of his pocket, and tried the door. It slipped in perfectly, and soon he was in an unfamiliar house.

As he wandered first through the living room, and then through the kitchen he saw a picture of Ashley and a man. Him?

He started trying to play detective, and realized a few things.

It was crazy, but he was indeed a 30 year old man now, albeit one who had somehow forgotten the last 10 years. And they were apparently an important 10 years! He was married to Ashley, and was working at one of the biggest tech companies in the world.

That all sounded insane to him, but the various documents and pictures around the house testified to this version of events.

He pulled out his phone, and tried calling Ashley. Maybe she’d be able to shed a little light on the last 10 years?

But it just kept ringing. She never picked up.

One year later.

James had gone to the doctors for a check up, but the brain scans had revealed nothing unusual. They theorized his amnesia might have been caused by stress of some kind. Whatever the explanation, James’ memories never really came back.

He quit his high paying job, and took a lower paying one at a company that didn’t mind that he had forgotten everything he learned in his master’s degree. (Let alone his last year of college!)

James had come up with a theory for his amnesia. It must have been because Ashley left him.

How else to explain her complete absence from the house?

He had tried to find her a few times, but she had done a good job covering her tracks, wherever she went.

300 miles away, Ashley was having the time of her life.

Realizing that she wasn’t cut out for art was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Now, she just spent her time going from party to party, finding a hook up for drugs, and going home with a guy for a little fun, and a place to crash for the night.

The drugs had probably taken their toll on her.

People were always surprised whenever she said she was only 20 years old. They said she looked more like she was in her 30’s.

But the drugs did make it easier to let go of her old life. They made it so easy!

She had also started moonlighting at a strip club, where they were happy to pay her under the table.

Even though the drugs had aged her, she still had a sexy art ho body, and people were happy to watch her take her clothes off to see it. She got so much validation from all the skeezy patrons throwing money at her.

Even if she would never be a great artist, at least her body was still a work of art. At least she had something that made people like her, and see her as a person with value. Even if it was the only thing she was good for. Even if a frivolous party girl and a stripper was all she could ever hope to be.

One night, one of the new girls at the strip club mentioned that she was stripping to pay her way through art school. When one of the other girls mentioned that Ashley had once wanted to be an artist, the newcomer had excitedly suggested they do a chill art night together.

Ashley had considered for a moment. For more than a moment.

She had gone to Walmart, and bought a canvas and paints, and had even told the new girl she would be there.

But then she had gotten thinking about the amazing art at that comic con. The straw that broke the camel’s back, the reminder that she would never be a great artist.

And she had thrown the canvas and paints into the dumpster behind the latest booty call she had been couch-surfing at, and texted the girl that she would have to cancel.

Ashley wrapped up a rubber band around her upper arm, and pulled out a needle. She looked down at it, and sighed. This was the only happiness left in her life. She flicked the needle a few times, and then plunged it into her skin.

And in moments, Ashley was enjoying a bliss deeper than love, and more powerful than creative fulfillment.

At least, that’s what she told herself.