The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rhona’s Collar Training

If anything goes wrong,” Rhona said, looking up at him from the gurney, “I’m going to sue you for everything you’ve got.”

Joe smiled at his girlfriend. “It’ll be great. You’ll wake up a new woman. Trust me.”

Rhona scowled at him, looking cute despite the fact that she was in one of her moods. “I don’t know why I should,” she said. Hell, we’re not even in the United States! You’ve put my life in the hands of Mexican health care. My god, I’ve got a psycho for a boyfriend. Why did I ever agree to this?”

Joe quirked his mouth, and stifled his protests. Rhona had practically blackmailed him into paying for this, and medical care in the U.S. had just been getting more and more expensive ever since the late twentieth century. No insurance would cover the purely cosmetic mods that Rhona wanted done: breast implants, ear and nose surgery, anti-aging treatment on her skin (despite the fact that she was only 25), anti-collagen treatments, and even the latest in plastic surgery: shaping the fat and bones around her hips and waist to give her a surgically perfect hourglass figure.

He had protested long and hard that she was already beautiful. Rhona was fit and shapely, with long blond hair, and blue eyes that shone with a fierceness that made her even cuter when she angry. (He had told her that once during an argument, and could still almost feel the hand imprint on his face from the ensuing slap.) The surgery might make her even prettier, but he wanted a girlfriend, not a human Barbie doll.

But she had insisted. Moreover, she had insisted that he pay for it, or she would leave him and find someone who was willing to “act like a man and make his girlfriend happy,” as she had put it during one particular argument.

And he did want to make her happy. As cute as she was when she was angry, she was even cuter when she smiled—an occurrence which was all too rare these days. So he had agreed.

But while his job as a computer engineer was good, it wasn’t that good—and most of his salary went into paying for their 2-bedroom condo in a San Diego high-rise. So he had found a decent clinic just over the border in Tijuana, run by a perfectly competent American doctor who had left the U.S. after being accused of practicing “unethical” plastic surgery. It seemed perfect. The place was well-lit, spotless, and everyone was professional—hardly the Mexican hellhole Rhona was complaining about.

He put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, and smiled. “Don’t worry, honey. They’ll take good care of you. I’ll see you when you get out of surgery, okay?”

She jerked away from his hand and scowled up at him, but didn’t say anything else. Joe nodded at the nurse, and they wheeled her through the double doors into the operating room. Joe sighed, watching the doors swing back and forth until they came to a stop.

* * *

Joe had only been sitting in the waiting room for about ten minutes when an older man in surgical scrubs walked toward him.

“Doctor Peabody,” Joe smiled as he stood up. “Nice to see you again.”

He and Rhona had met the doctor in the lead-up to the surgery. Dr. Peabody, too, had expressed surprise that she wanted to do the surgery, but he had readily agreed to do it—after all, as Joe reminded himself, he wasn’t famous for his ethics. Which, in turn, had given Joseph another idea.

“Do you have the ‘special project’ we discussed over the phone?” the doctor asked.

“Right here,” Joseph reached into a bag and pulled out a black rubber collar. It didn’t fasten shut like a regular collar—instead, the special material bonded under heat directly to human skin. Attached to the inside of the collar was a small electronic device that looked a lot like a human vertebra, with a slot feeding through to the outside that resembled the SD slot of a computer. Opposite the device, on the outside front of the collar, was a metal ring, with a pink heart-shaped tag.

Rhona hated hearts.

The doctor studied it. “Yes, I’ve seen this model before. I’ve installed similar ones, but this one looks like the very latest.”

Joe grinned. “It is. One of my friends is an engineer who helps build them. This model’s not due on the market for another two weeks.” He held up a packet of SD cards. “There’s some brand-new capabilities built in. He even gave me some of the new cards for testing.”

Dr. Peabody nodded. “Well, all together, the surgery should take about ten hours, Joe, so you’d best make yourself comfortable. Someone will come get you when she’s finished.”

As the doctor disappeared into the operating room, Joe sat down to wait.

* * *

Rhona was lying in bed when they escorted Joe into her room. She had been given a private room while she recovered—another advantage of going across the border for medical care. Joe closed the door. He could see that her looks had been altered—her facial structure had been rounded to more of a heart shape, and her lips were slightly fuller than before. All in all, Dr. Peabody had done a masterful job—she had been pretty before, but now she had the face of a supermodel. And the latest in medical technology had ensured that there were no stitches, and no scarring—there was no sign that an hour ago, she had been in surgery.

Her eyes were open, but she had a vacant stare—nobody was home. It was a side effect of the collar, which clung tightly to her neck just below her chin. He rubbed his fingers on the collar, which lay flush against her skin—bonded, just as promised. The pink heart tag jingled as he flicked it.

He lifted her head, and felt the back of the collar. The slot was there, waiting for a card; the vertebra shaped device had, literally, replaced one of the bones in her spine. A card inserted into the device would sit directly inside her spinal cord, capable of sending signals up to the brain or down to the body, not to mention intercepting, modifying, and blocking them. For now, the empty device was keeping her body in stasis- like a mindless robot, waiting for its program.

Gently laying her head back down on the pillow, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small envelope with half a dozen cards. Some he had bought commercially, others had been given to him by his friend. The collars and cards, while still new tech and difficult to install, were already becoming popular in trendy BDSM circles. He had told Rhona about them once as a curiosity, but she had merely screwed up her face in disgust.

He picked out a card. Then he reached around to the back of Rhona’s neck, slotted the card in, and heard it set in place with a click. Then he retreated to one of the chairs and sat down as Rhona’s eyes fluttered, and she groaned as she woke up.

“Is it over?” she asked. “Did they do everything?”

“Yep,” Joe said, “they did everything.”

“I want to see,” she said, pushing the covers off as she sat up. Joe went to her side and wrapped his arm around her, and helped her stand up, and walked her over to the far side of the room, where a full-length mirror stood against the wall.

“Raise your arms,” he said. Then he untied her gown and lifted it over her head, leaving her standing naked.

Dr. Peabody had, indeed, done an amazing job. Her breasts had gone from Cs to EEs, but were still perfectly shaped, and her nipples stood pert and erect in the drafty room. Her skin was as smooth as a doll’s, from her head and face, all the way over her wasp-waisted figure and her round, perfect, ass, and down her slender, silky legs. She had been beautiful before; now she was an impossibly gorgeous knockout. She really did look almost like a real-life Barbie.

She ran her hands over her body, turning around and wiggling her ass in the mirror. “I look great!” she turned to Josh and grinned. Then, she looked back in the mirror, and her hand went to the collar. “What’s this?”

“Just call it a post-surgery present.”

She made a face. “You know I don’t like collars. Too degrading. And the pink heart? Seriously, Joe, you should know better.” She reached behind her neck to take it off. “How do I get it off? There’s no buckle…” Then her fingers ran over the slot in the back, and she turned to him. “Wait a minute.” Her voice had an ominous rumble to it, like an incoming storm. “Is this one of those nerve collars you were telling me about?”

Joe grinned. “Yep. You wanted to be a human doll so bad, and well, you were insisting on so much help with the physical aspect, I thought I’d give you a hand with the mental part too.”

“Dammit, Joe!” She barged toward him, hand pulling back to punch him, but he was ready. He clapped his hands together, once, and her entire body froze in place. Her momentum carried her forward, but he caught her before she fell. He balanced her carefully on her feet, but she had been frozen mid-stride, angry expression locked in place on her face.

He reached down, adjusting her legs so she would stay upright on her own. He walked around her in a slow circle, like a visitor admiring a statue at an art museum. He reached forward and massaged her breasts; they felt good, pretty much natural—Dr. Peabody did, indeed, do fine work. Joe gave her a light smack on the ass, then stepped to one side and clapped his hands again.

Rhona turned to face him. “You son of a bitch, Joe, I trusted you!” She reached up and tried to pry the collar off, but the rubber collar was, as advertised, bonded to her neck. Even if she had been able to pry off the collar itself, that wouldn’t have changed the fact that one of her vertebra had been replaced by the nerve control device—the collar was mostly just for looks. She screamed and shook her head angrily, sending the little pink tag jingling, as well as making her breasts bounce in a rather captivating fashion.

Joe clapped again, and she froze just as her fingers touched the tag. Her boobs took another second to stop bouncing, and her hair fell over her face, disturbed only slightly by her slow, regular breathing. He grasped her by the shoulders and carefully lowered her until she was in a sitting position on the bed, then lowered her hands so they were by her side, stepped back, and unfroze her.

She glared up at him. “So now what?” she snarled. “You think I’m going to be your little toy? Your little slave? I’m calling the doctor and making him take this out. This is ridiculous.”

She started to get up when Joe interrupted her. “Rhona, just stop.”

There wasn’t anything special about the command, and the card wasn’t voice activated. But she looked up at him, startled by the sudden strength in his voice.

“You were the one who demanded that I pay for the operation,” Joe pointed out. “Dr. Peabody’s been working for me, not you. That’s not going to change. But,” he said, “just go with it. Try it out for a little while. There are some cards I really think you’ll like.”

Rhona snorted. “Fat chance.”

“And if you don’t like a card, you can reach behind your neck and eject it. There you go, end of program.”

Immediately, Rhona reached up to the back of her neck and fidgeted for a moment. As soon as she ejected the card, her whole body slumped forward like a rag doll, and Joe stepped forward and caught her before she fell off the bed.

He grinned. “Sorry, honey, I may have left out some details there.”

* * *

Rhona’s eyes drifted open again. He had laid her back on the bed, with her head on the pillow and her arms by her sides.

“Hey, Rhona,” he said. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t warn you ahead of time. But I put in a card I thought you might like better than the last one. Let me know what you think.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “And what happened? Just because I…” suddenly she stopped, like something had interrupted her. “Just because… I…. ohhhh.” Her eyes widened, and her breathing quickened as she put her hand to her chest.

“What is it?” he asked, trying not to smirk. “Something wrong?”

“No, just—ohhhh, god. Suddenly, I’m feeling… turned on. Like waves of pleasure are coming in my…” She glared up at him. “Now what did you do? It’s nooo—” she squealed, and arched her back, thrusting her breasts into the air, then fell back to the bed. “It’s the most incredible feeling in the—goddamn it Joe!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Give into it, Rhona. You’ve been so angry lately, just let it go for a few minutes. Ride the wave.” He glanced down at her crotch; there was already visible moisture there. “Literally, if the mood strikes you.”

Her skin was flushed red all over, and she was beginning to sweat; clearly this card—designed, essentially, for constant arousal—was working. But he hadn’t expected her to react this strong.

She moaned again, spreading her legs, and looked at Joe, an equal mixture of fear and lust in her eyes. “I am sooo horny, Joe. Holy crap. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” She thrust two fingers in her vagina, and massaged her clit with her other hand. “Oh, God!”

He grinned. He wanted to join her on the bed, but there would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he enjoyed watching her expression, her eyes clenched shut, as she furiously played with herself, panting heavily, her chest bouncing in rhythm with the motion of her arms. He walked over to the side of the bed, watched her for a moment, and whispered in her ear, “You want an orgasm?”

Her eyes opened, and she looked at him—a ghost of anger flickered over her expression, but it was quickly replaced by pure arousal. “Yes!”

He leaned in closer. “You need to say ‘Please.’”

She clenched her teeth and glared at him, as if to say, ‘never mind.’ Joe shrugged and leaned against the wall. She moaned, and as she rubbed her clit, she ran a hand over her body, massaging her breasts, her skin now slick with a thin sheet of sweat. Joe ran a hand over her leg, and she opened one eye, but didn’t protest as he moved his hand up her body, then ran circles around her nipples with his fingers. She squeaked in pleasure, but didn’t slap him away, or even try to fight; instead, she went back to working on her pussy with both hands. As Joe savored the sensation of her skin rubbing against his, her nipples hard against his thumbs, he whispered, “Say please if you want to have an orgasm.”

She gritted her teeth again as she looked up at him and said, “Fine, ‘please!’ I need… to… come!”

Joe grinned. “Say ‘pretty please.’”

“I hate you!” she moaned. “Pretty please!”

Joe stood up, and let her struggle for another minute, then clapped his hands, and this time instead of freezing, she screamed. Her entire body convulsed, gripped by a massive wave of pleasure, her back arching in the air, and Joe had to put a hand on her stomach to keep her from falling off the bed. But she kept rubbing her pussy, and the orgasm lasted for at least thirty seconds before she collapsed back on the bed, panting. “Okay,” she muttered, “that was pretty intense. But I’m still fucking pissed at you. Where do you get off having the right… to… oh.” Her eyes widened. “It’s starting again. God, it’s like there’s a ‘horny’ dial in my brain that’s slowly being cranked up.” She rubbed her hands over her body, cupping her breasts, then running her hands over her legs as far as she could reach. “Oh, it’s all so sensitive. I just want to…” for a moment, she looked at Joe with an expression of what could only be described as uncontrolled lust, before being replaced by anger. Joe could almost see the war in her mind as she tried to decide whether to attack him or pull him into bed with him.

He really, really wanted to join her on the bed, but there was more fun to be had first. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he said. “Clap your hands.”

Rhona stopped pleasuring herself, and hesitated a moment before she clapped her hands, and sent herself into orgasm. This one wasn’t quite as intense as the first one, but she laughed, and clapped her hands again, sending herself into spasms of pleasure. Arms shaking, she laughed again, maniacally, and clapped her hands several times in rapid succession, almost squeaking as the waves of pleasure hit her. At last, she rested her arms on the bed, breathing heavily, her eyes rolled back in her head, a silly smile plastered on her face. He could hear her breathing change as her arousal slowly began to rise again, but before she could do anything else he slipped his hand behind her neck and ejected the card.

Like someone had pressed her “off” button, she slumped back, her muscles went limp, and her eyes glazed over.

* * *

“Admit it,” Joe grinned, “you had fun.”

Rhona was sitting up in her bed, her back against the wall, the sheet pulled just over her bosom. She had her arms crossed in front of her, which had the effect of pushing her breasts up, creating a captivating view of her cleavage over the top of the sheet. “I’m still angry at you. Are you going to tell me what this new card does, or are you going to surprise me?”

“It’s another one that’s activated by clapping your hands,” Joe said. “Find out for yourself if you want.”

He could see that she was tempted, but after a moment she merely resumed glaring at him. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

Joe stifled a retort, and merely smiled. “Do as you will. But in the meantime, you should eat something. It’s been about twelve hours now.”

In front of Rhona on a wheeled tray was a plate of food that she had been picking at over the last few minutes. She sighed, and took another bite. “Fine. So what are we going to do now? You think I’ll ever agree to this?”

“You seemed pretty agreeable a little while ago,” Joe said, and she glared at him. “But now,” he continued, “I think we should go home, and have fun. You have your new body to show off; when we go home let’s go clubbing and celebrate. There’s even a card we can buy that’ll help you dance.”

“Are you saying I need help with my dancing?” she asked crossly.

“Do you have to take everything I say as an insult to you?” he asked. “For once, can’t you just relax and be the happy-go-lucky girl I fell in love with eighteen months ago?”

She took one last bite and pushed the tray away. “If you didn’t keep pissing me off, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

Joe sighed, and looked at the clock. It was getting late. “Tomorrow morning we’ll go home. For now you’re staying overnight for observation. So just relax, and get some rest.”

He clapped his hands, and Rhona’s legs spread, with her knees bent. Her arms spread, too, like she was about to give someone a hug, and her lips formed into a perfect O-shape. Her eyes went wide, and she stared straight ahead with a vacant stare. Joe walked over, and leaned against the bed. He waved his hand in front of her eyes, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even blink.

“Well,” he said, “you were the one who wanted to be a doll, after all.” He put his finger in her mouth, and the presence of something in her mouth made the Rhona-sex-doll close her lips gently over it. She sucked his finger gently, and began massaging along its length with her tongue. When he pulled his finger out, her mouth opened again, and lips resumed their O-shape. “Well,” he chuckled, “will the wonders of technology never cease. We are gonna have so much fun when we get home.”

He pulled her arms down so they were laying by her side, then closed her legs and tucked her into bed. He made sure she was resting comfortably against the pillow, then, with his fingers, he closed her eyes. Except for her O-shaped mouth, she looked like she was sleeping normally.

Then, from his pocket, he pulled out an accessory he hadn’t told her about: a one-button remote, which he had already clipped to his keyring. When pressed, the button would disable the clapping mechanism, and ensure that she was locked in whatever ‘mode’ she was in until he pressed the button again. After all, it wouldn’t do for her to get accidentally unfrozen in the night.

He tucked his keys in his pocket, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. He jingled the heart tag on her collar one last time, then turned out the lights and left.

* * *

“Does everything seem to be working?” asked Dr. Peabody.

“Yep,” said Joe, “perfect. No complaints. Right, Rhona?”

He was holding a black leather leash, which was clipped to the metal ring on Rhona’s collar. She was walking behind him; her gaze was vacant but happy, and her tongue hung out of her mouth like a puppy dog. On top of that, she was dressed in a black corset and tight miniskirt that showed off the physical results of her surgery quite nicely.

“Say thank you to Dr. Peabody, Rhona. Speak!”

She tilted her head back and barked.

Dr. Peabody smiled. “You two enjoy yourselves, now.”

“Thanks again, Doctor,” Joe tugged at the leash. “Come, Rhona.”

Her legs quivered, and she put a hand to her crotch as she let out a soft moan. With her tongue hanging out, she drooled a bit, and Joe tsk’ed as he wiped her chin clean. “Whoever designed the ‘Puppy’ card had a sense of humor. Follow me, Rhona.”

Dr. Peabody chuckled, and gave a brief wave as Joe led her out of the building into the sunlight.

“Good girl, Rhona,” Joe said. “Good girl.”

Rhona nuzzled up against him happily.