The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ms. Reid gazed down at Melanie’s limp, naked body, sprawled in the chair like a broken doll. It breathed deeply, but didn’t blink; drooled, but didn’t even twitch. Ms. Reid allowed her eyes to take in the long, smooth torso, the plump breasts, the shock of hair on the cute, tight pussy. She knew that pussy well now. Her fingers had been deep inside of it over and over again—there, and underneath, beyond Melanie’s taut, quivering anus. There wasn’t a place on Melanie’s body Ms. Reid didn’t know intimately by now. But her mind? That was still a mystery. Why did she respond so well to the enhanced advertising techniques? If only Ms. Reid could discover the secret! She lifted the goggles up from her eyes and held her chin in one gloved hand, pondering the form before her. Distantly, her cunt buzzed, ready for Melanie to submit again. Always ready. Ms. Reid had to admit that this had been an excellent week for her, at least. How nice to convince someone that your pussy juices were lifesaving medicine. Now nice to insert a catheter, to fit an immobilizing collar, all while your hypnotized slave gasped with desire, fear, lust, submission—whatever you wanted from her.

Ms. Reid wished it could go on forever.

The sterile white room was littered with medical detritus. Speculums of increasing sizes lay gleaming in order of increasing size on a rack that Ms. Reid kept just for this purpose. The first nurse cap had been ruined when Melanie, seized by a fit of passion, had grabbed it in her fist. It lay on the floor in a crumpled heap. The second cap was somewhere, Ms. Reid didn’t know where. It didn’t matter. She sighed, fingers drumming her lips. Underneath her lab smock, she was naked. She wondered if that would matter to the board.

“Melanie,” she said. “Stand up.”

Like a robot, the mindless hypno-slave rose and stood at attention, head still tilted to the side and eyes wide.

“Very good,” Ms. Reid said. “You will follow me now like the obedient girl you are. And you are very obedient. Aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am very obedient.” Melanie’s voice was faint and airy. Her lips barely seemed to move in response to Ms. Reid’s question. But when Ms. Reid turned to go, Melanie followed, entranced, helpless to resist.

The scarlet-carpeted hall was walled with mahogany. Ms. Reid followed the lighted sconces toward the executive chamber. A flutter of anxiety rose in her stomach, but she quashed it viciously. More. She would have more.

Light spilled from an open doorway ahead. With a deep breath, Ms. Reid led Melanie in.

The board was sitting at a semicircular wooden table in a room that had been lushly carpeted and decorated in a style that was understated, but clearly very expensive. Ms. Reid took them in, wondering for a moment at the level of power in this room, amazed that there was not a single man in the room. Patricia Warren she knew by reputation; the stunning fiftysomething former nurse was the head of marketing for the largest drugmaker in the world. Jean Nazarian she’d met at a party once—you didn’t quickly forget lips that red—and she was aware that Reza Ahmed was the medical doctor turned marketing executive who had made women worldwide want sleep apnea machines. But seeing them all together took her breath away. It made her pussy wet. What would Melanie feel if she weren’t under Ms. Reid’s control?

“Stephanie,” Warren said, her voice cold. “Thank you for bringing the subject.”

“Thank you for agreeing to follow through on this,” Ms. Reid answered, equally distant. “Do you have any questions before we begin?”

“I think we’d like to see what you have first.”

“Very good.” To the right of where they stood in the center of the room, Ms. Reid saw a glass-fronted closet. Her lips curved into a tight smile at what she saw. “Melanie,” she said. “Tell me what you want to do.”

“Serve Ms. Reid,” Melanie answered in a monotont. “Be very obedient.”

“Very good. And what is your favorite command to follow?”

“I want...I want to pump my breasts.”

The board shifted, leaning forward. “Is this the same subject as we saw in the intro video?” Ahmen asked in Oxford accents. “The one from Fall’s lab?”

“Yes,” Ms. Reid answered. “As you can see, she’s totally transformed.”

“Remarkable,” Ahmed breathed. Her full lips parted as she gazed at Melanie’s hypnotized, blank gaze. “Simply amazing.”

“Melanie,” Ms. Reid said, “does it hurt to pump your breasts?”

“Yes, Ms. Reid.”

“But you want to pump your breasts?”

“Yes. Please. Please, Ms. Reid.”

Ms. Reid went to the closet and removed the full-sized double breast pump, a suction model that made her own nipples zing with anticipation. She brought it to Melanie. The rise and fall of her naked breasts had hastened, and Melanie was nearly panting. “You’ll do anything to be able to pump your breasts, won’t you, Melanie?” Ms. Reid crooned.

“Yes. Yes, Ms. Reid. What can I do? Please tell me!”

“You can show me how much you love to pump your breasts. Right now. Use these on yourself.”

With a moan, Melanie fell upon the breast pump in Ms. Reid’s hands, kissing it, licking it, stroking it with gentle fingers. She inhaled its scent of ammonia and disinfectant as she breathed on the glass. At the same time, one hand strayed down to her bare pussy, which was visibly dripping down her thigh. Her nipples stood erect, nearly quivering, as Melanie took one of the glass bells into her hand and fitted it over her breast. She moaned, pressing it to herself as hard as she could. Her other hand was too busy with her cunt to pump her breast to the level of pressure that she craved. Frustration wrung tears from her eyes until Ms. Reid whispered more commands into her ears. At that, Melanie’s features smoothed into the bliss of obedience once more. The board watched in awe as Melanie released her desperate groin and held both cups to her body, one over each breast.

“Yes,” she whispered. Ms. Reid pumped once. Her breasts expanded and Melanie gasped in combined pleasure and pain.

“How does that feel, Melanie?” Ms. Reid asked.

“It hurts…” Melanie moaned. “I want more! I want to pump my breasts. Please. Please pump them. Yes!”

At that word, Ms. Reid squeeze the hand pump once more. Melanie’s breasts ballooned again, pressing against the inside of the glass bells under the influence of incredible suction. Melanie’s eyes were wide and her mouth was open. Her hands had fallen away from her breasts and were now pushing into her pussy. One worked her hot clit with increasing desperation as the other worked its way into her deep canyon. Her flushed face bore the look of ultimate submission and ecstasy that Ms. Reid had come to associate with Melanie’s particularly powerful desire to submit and obey. Still, Melanie gasped out one word: “Yes!”

Ms. Reid squeezed again. Melanie cried out. The rubber rims of the glass bells over her breasts dug into her pale skin as her breasts smushed up against the insides of the bells, bigger than they’d ever been. They now looked impossibly large, too big to be attached to such a waiflike body. But there was nothing halfway about Melanie. She plunged her hand in and out of her vagina, thrusting faster and faster in her desperate lust. “Yes!”

Ms. Reid smiled as she pumped again, eliciting a near-scream from her subject. “Melanie,” she said, “describe how you feel.”

“I...I love the pump! I love to be pumped!” Melanie’s face hovered near orgasm. “I want more. P-please. Yes…”

Ms. Reid squeezed one last time. Melanie’s breasts would be huge when they emerged, but right now, she wouldn’t be thinking about that. She wouldn’t be thinking about anything. Melanie’s back arched as her fingers rubbed frantically at her clitoris. She screamed as she climaxed, shaking so hard that she collapsed onto the luxurious rug. Ms. Reid followed her to the floor, keeping the rubber hoses that connected the hand pumps to the glass bells attached to her breasts slack. Melanie screamed as she continued to come hard, writhing in ecstasy and helpless joy. Then, after a couple short, sharp gasps, she came again, harder, bucking and twisting as she freed one hand to clutch at the glass bells on her breasts. That set her off again and she came for a third time, fingernails digging into the glass as though she were scrabbling to remove them.

Ms. Reid acted quickly when Melanie relaxed. “Melanie, you’re done coming for today,” she said. “You’ve been a very good girl. When I release the pressure, you’ll be a sales girl for Marque Breast Pumps. Sell them to us.” Flicking two valves at once, Ms. Reid released her helpless subject, who moaned as her breasts were freed.

Immediately, Melanie bounced to her feet. Her breasts were huge, red and tender, but her face was ebullient. “You don’t know what you’re missing if you’ve never pumped your breasts,” she chirped. “Whether you love that oh-so-good pressure or the sweet release, or if you just love having enormous breasts, this gadget is a must-have for every woman. I know I’m a customer! Nothing makes me more submissive to my Ms. Reid than a session with a Marque Breast Pump! And really,” she winked bawdily at the board, “who doesn’t want that?”

“Very good, Melanie!” Ms. Reid smiled as Melanie posed with the pump and preened like a model. Ms. Reid turned to the board, whose mouths hung open. “This is what I’ve accomplished with the enhanced advertising method,” she said. “Melanie may be an outlier, but I’m sure that we can still learn from her.”

“But...Isn’t she the only one who’s responded like this?” Nazarian’s hands were shaking and Ms. Reid noted smugly that her nipples were poking through the front of her silk shirt. “Of, ah, all the subjects?”

“I believe there may be many more women like this,” Ms. Reid replied. “We just need to locate them. Identify what makes them different. Then…” She spread her hands wide. “Once we know that, we can find a way to trip that switch in everyone who watches TV. Instantly, you’ll have 100% conversion, even for products that no normal person would admit that they want.”

Next to her, Melanie was cooing to the breast pump assembly, rubbing it against her face like a cat. She massaged her red breasts with it, moaning a little. They must have been tender. Or she was horny again.

“We don’t...want them to all get horny,” Warren said. “That’s too far. It’ll be obvious what we’re doing. But I must admit that you’re onto something here. Reza?”

“Yes. I agree.” Ahmed nodded vigorously. “I move to continue funding as long as Ms. Reid can discreetly supply more subjects.”

Ms. Reid walked from the room, triumphant, with Melanie trailing her, giggling and still showing off the breast pump. Ms. Reid’s heart thrilled. She hadn’t gotten so far by not being prepared for success. Now that she had it, she was going to take full advantage.

They were back in the training room. Melanie cradled the breast pump assembly, still selling it to Ms. Reid, to the walls, to anyone and anything. Her mind wiped away, she was the perfect slave. Soon, Ms. Reid knew, she’d be just one of many. Hundreds, maybe. But Melanie would always be special. Even if she no longer had the capacity to understand that.

“Melanie,” she said, “you are no longer obsessed with the breast pump. Drop it and sit in the chair.”

Melanie obeyed, letting the pump assembly fall where she stood and climbing into the chair where she’d spent so much time over the past week. Ms. Reid opened the panel at the back of the training headset whose range Melanie had exhausted over the course of their testing. Nevermind that, Ms. Reid thought, keying in the code for the new training sequence, the one she’d engineered special for this exact eventuality. Satisfied, she closed the panel. “Now Melanie,” she said, smiling, “be a good girl and watch this.”

Melanie’s mind was an empty blank. She knew nothing but submission and servitude—and happiness. As the headset flashed at her, the last of her mind erased by the lights, she absorbed a new set of programming. Obeying Ms. Reid came with a whole new world of pleasure now. Obedience was pleasure. Pleasure was obedience. And if she was very, very good, she would be Ms. Reid’s slave forever. Melanie smiled as the machine washed away the last of her volition. She would be a wonderful slave.

“...And that’s why I’m here today.” Melanie beamed out at the crowd of young women before her. The business suit fit her sexy, filled-out frame like a glove. Ms. Reid had picked it out and commanded her to wear it. The thought made her pussy quiver a little. “Any questions?”

One redhead’s hand shot up. “You said we’d get how much money from doing the study?”

“Twenty thousand dollars, tax-free,” Melanie answered. The greedy gleam in the redhead’s eyes told her everything she needed to know. She couldn’t have articulated how she knew that these girls would easily succumb to the hypnotic effect of enhanced advertising and medical suggestion, but intuition told her that she’d once been a lot like them. And now look. Melanie was perfect.

Soon, they would be, too.