The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The exit was not much further down the freeway. Monica felt as if she were giving someone a tour of her youth by taking this route. It was pleasant how easily getting to Helena and Sharon’s house was coming back to her, as if it had been two weeks instead of two years since Monica had visited the twins. She smiled as she turned off the interstate. The three of them had been best friends in high school. Helena and Sharon had had their own tight connection, like many twins have. Still, Monica had been as close to them as anyone else. There had been a larger group of kids, both girls and guys, that they had hung out with, but the twins let Monica into their lives more than anyone else.

Together the girls had discovered guys, drinking, drugs, partying; the things that made school matter. After graduation they had each made the usual promises to keep in touch at college, but the twins went to a university across the country from Monica’s, and after the first few weeks the e-mails and phone calls became fewer and rarer. Then after freshman year, Helena and Sharon went south to live with their father and stepmother for the summer. Monica felt guilty as she recalled that she had never even bothered to get the phone number for the father’s place. After that, she did not hear from the sisters at all, but with all the studying and activities at school, Monica had not had have much time to think about it, until Sharon called three days before the end of finals. We’re staying with Mom this summer, she told Monica. When you get done with school, why don’t you come down and visit? We could have a sleepover like old times.

“Hey, that sounds great,” Monica said. “I’m done with my tests on Thursday. How does Friday sound? We can go out dancing.”

“No, we’re going to be pretty tired. We think we’re just going sit at home and chill out. Is that all right?” Sharon said.

“Fine. That’s fine. No, that’s great. I’ll see you then,” Monica said. When she hung up the phone she almost cried with relief. Hearing her friend’s voice (she could always tell which one was on the phone; sometimes their own mother got confused) again brought back all the old memories.

She signaled her turn and pulled off the main road. The road was clear so she could relax as she drove. Quickly she glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure that her hair was in place. Her hair was red and short, almost boyish, but the bangs over her forehead kept it from going that far.

A few minutes later she pulled into a driveway in front of a modest, white-stucco house. Three houses from the corner, she thought sentimentally. As she got out of her car she remembered to turn her headlights off. Then she stood looking at the front door of the house, the car between them. The door looked far away in the fading sunlight.

Finally she decided that she had nothing to worry about, and that if the twins saw her through the living room window she would look rather silly to them. So she slid around the hood and walked purposefully up the sidewalk to the door. She had barely knocked twice before the door swung open.

“It’s you,” the twins cried together, grinning brightly.

Monica was so happy she could not stand it. Her face squeezed up and she burst out crying. Helena and Sharon opened up their arms and she fell into them.

It seemed almost instantly the three were cradled on the couch, Monica sobbing and the twins stroking her hair. Monica looked up from Sharon’s shoulder into their faces. Strangely, neither sister was upset. They looked down at her smiling slightly, almost calmly.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Helena said.

“Oh God, you both look so good. It’s been so long...” Monica stammered.

“Don’t worry about that,” Sharon said. “Don’t worry about that ever. We’re just so happy to see you now.”

Monica lay on top of the twins for a few more minutes as her tears slowly dried up. Her head rested on Sharon’s shoulder, her eyes closed, and her legs were curled up on Helena’s lap. Sharon stroked Monica’s short-cropped hair and whispered that it was all right, we love you, so nice to see you again. Soon she stopped crying and lay still, feeling heat off her friends’ skin and a sense of absolute safety. Suddenly she laughed.

“Oh shit, I feel so stupid,” Monica said.

“Why?” Sharon asked.

“Can I smoke in here?” Monica asked.

“Sure.”

Monica sat up and reached for her purse, which she had thrown onto the chair next to the couch. She sat down on the chair, pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the purse, and lit up. Her skirt was on the short side, so she crossed her legs casually. She did not notice both Sharon and Helena staring at her legs; if she had, she would have noticed meaning in their gazes. Instead, she flicked ashes into an ashtray on the coffee table in front of her.

Helena and Sharon rose from the couch and Monica took a real good look at them for the first time since she came in. They had both stayed in shape. Their stomachs were flat behind their tank tops, and they both wore shorts so Monica could see their shapely and tanned legs. They were unchanged since high school, except that Sharon had grown her blond hair out to match Helena’s. Helena leaned over to her sister and whispered in her ear. Both sisters grinned and headed for the kitchen behind Monica.

“We have a surprise to show you. It’s in here,” Sharon said.

“What is it?” Monica asked.

“Just sit back and wait,” Helena laughed. They disappeared behind their guest, giggling and murmuring to each other.

Monica waited, looking around the room she had spent so much time in growing up. It was almost a picture of how she remembered it: the furniture, stereo and television all in the same place, though the speakers and TV were newer models. She finished her cigarette and ground the butt into the ashtray. What have they got back there? she wondered. A hand pressed on her shoulder. It slid gently down her arm to the inside of her elbow, then back up partway. Another did the same a moment later.

“What are you guys doing?” Monica asked, laughing.

The hands gripped her arms tightly, and pulled Monica back into the chair. “Hey, stop it,” she said, still snickering but less sure. “Come one, guys.” She struggled playfully but the grips were very strong. Suddenly another hand reached up and grabbed her head, arching it back against the backrest.

“Um, hey guys,” Monica said, a little unsettled. “What’s the surprise?”

Suddenly her head was jerked back so she almost faced the ceiling. She saw Helena and Sharon out of the corner of each eye. They were leaning in front of her, facing straight ahead. They turned their heads slightly down toward each her, as if they were positioning themselves. Monica found herself looking at each girl’s topless chest. Their breasts were familiar from sleepover comparisons and such things, but now they seemed different, more alien.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, alarmed. “What’s going on?”

“Synchronizing target position,” they said in unison. Their voices sounded husky, but totally calm. “Personality simulation overrides complete.”

“Stop it! Help!” Monica shouted. Sharon, the one on the left, placed her palm over Monica’s mouth. Monica tried to scream but she could only hear a soft moan from underneath.

“Audial dampening initiated and complete,” the twins said in that eerie stereo calm. Neither of them looked at her; they just stared straight ahead. “Prepare to initiate information retrieval sequence.” There was a click and a hum from somewhere within their bodies. As Monica struggled the nipples of the closest breast she was staring at on each sister began to glow. With remarkable speed the breasts pushed themselves over Monica’s eyes. Instinctively she tried to shut her eyes but tiny needles in the areolas hooked the lids and kept them peeled open.

She saw a bright flash of white, then a moment of darkness. Staring around desperately she found a pair of red glows. They twisted and glimmered, brighter and brighter, growing larger and larger. Slowly they slid together in Monica’s vision until they formed a single swirling light, almost three-dimensional. She gasped and moaned fearfully, but the glow began to occupy her vision. It was huge in her mind, multicolored, twisting around and around and everywhere she looked it was there. She couldn’t even see around the flesh of the nipples and the breasts. From somewhere there was a loud, insistent buzzing noise.

A moment passed, and Monica felt herself losing her panic. She tried to keep fighting but the twins were so strong, and she was getting tired. Plus looking into the spiraling glow and the metallic buzzing kept distracting her. She would look into the light and forget to fight and almost give in. Each time that happened she would remember to fight in time, but it took longer each time, and it was happening more frequently.

“Increase submission potential,” the girls said.

She heard a hissing sound, and a tickley, slightly sweet gassy smell danced in her nose. Her head spun for a second, then she felt herself slipping away. The gas made her slip away, not completely, but enough. She could not fight anymore, could not resist the spinning light. She lay still. Moaning fearfully and breathing shallowly-but steadily-she stared into her old friends’ tits, unable to move.

“Subject’s pulse slowing to nonresisting level,” the twins said. Their voices kept their girlish squeaks, despite the inhuman monotones. “Optic movement and dilation acceptably low. Subject properly prepared for information retrieval.”

Information retrieval? Monica thought wearily. She was quickly becoming exhausted. The gas and the light were causing her mind to glaze over, not to mention the physical fatigue. But at the same time the pulsing light was knocking her out, it was keeping her awake. It brought her to the edge of unconsciousness then held her there as she begged silently to be let go so she could slip away. Why? She wondered. What does it want? She would give it anything so she could sleep.

“You will now answer all of our questions,” Helena and Sharon said.

“Yes,” Monica answered finally, heavily. She felt as if she were floating. All she could feel was the twins’ arms and hands around her and their breasts pressed against her eyes and cheeks. Her mind was blank, except for a desire to do what the light said. It shifted slightly, becoming oddly beautiful. Monica smiled joyfully at the gorgeous spiral, and prayed silently for slumber.

“What is your name?” the twins asked, to test.

“Monica Anna Slevic,” she answered sleepily.

“What is your age?”

“Nineteen years.”

“What are the names of your parents?”

“Steve and Linda,” Monica said. She knew they knew all this already but she did not care. She would do anything they asked.

“Are you staying with them?”

“Yes.”

“When are they expecting you?”

“Don’t know. We didn’t set a time.”

“Excellent. Prepare subject for adaptation,” the duel interrogators said. Again she heard the gas before she inhaled it.

Once she started waking up she woke completely up quickly. The properties of the anesthetic Helena and Sharon used shortened the conventional recovery time. So she was quickly aware of her new surroundings.

They had moved her while she was out. Now she was in some sort of converted dentist’s chair. It was tilted back a little; she could see in front of her, but she was too far back to struggle effectively. Her arms, legs and torso were strapped down with leather belts, by the feel. She realized that she felt the belts because she was naked, from head to toe.

A strobe light shined into her face from slightly to her right. She tried to blink, but could not. A series of thin steel rods held her face in place. Four of them, one per eyelid, curled around from behind her head and pasted her lids to her. Another four held her lips open, and two larger ones jutted out from under her chin to keep her jaw shut. All the noise she could make was a weak moan. A plastic tube ran into her mouth to collect her saliva. Monica could not move more than an inch in any direction.

In front of her there was a movie screen. It took up the wall in front of her. She knew it was the short end of the room, because she could see the entire screen. She recognized the room as Sharon and Helena’s basement, but it had changed.

The light hurt her eyes, and she groaned helplessly. From behind her she heard footsteps, then the twins were in front of her, blocking out the light. Unable to blink, it took her a long time to adjust to the change in brightness, and in her fear she could not hear what they were saying, though she heard their voices. All she heard was her own breath coming in and out hot and thin. After a minute she saw them more clearly.

Their features were the same but that was it. Both of the girls’ eyes were flat and dark and huge. Each one’s moved stiffly but smoothly, with total focus on their tasks. Their mouths did not smile or laugh; in fact, neither sister showed any emotion at all. Both were nude. They appeared comfortable that way.

The twins finished their dialogue and Sharon walked over to a far corner of the room. From the edge of her vision Monica saw her pick up the telephone receiver mounted on the wall. She dialed and Monica wondered whom she was calling, though she could not form the words in her mind because of her fatigue and fear. Still, she could think instinctively.

A couple faint rings, then a click and “Hello?” as the other person took the call. Monica gasped and tried to tear free with new energy as she recognized her father’s voice.

“Hi Dad,” Sharon said. It was a perfect replica of Monica’s voice. “I’m going to spend the night at Sharon and Helena’s, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye!”

“Subject is accounted for,” Helena said.

“Affirmative,” Sharon said in her own voice, flattened, even, but somehow weakened. Monica whimpered. Her last hope of outside rescue was gone. Scared as she had been before, that was the moment she fully realized that the twins were not playing some twisted prank on her, and she was in real trouble.

“We must reestablish our interunit link, to maximize efficiency for the adaptation,” Helena said.

“Acknowledged,” Sharon muttered. Her skin looked pale and cold. They moved towards each other, meeting in front of Monica. Slowly but with conviction they pressed against each other, and wrapped their arms into an embrace. They kissed deeply and with more passion than they had done anything since they “overrode” their “personality simulations”. Monica watched, revolted, as the twins each explored the other’s mouth with her tongue. She heard their lips as they smacked and sucked excitedly.

Sharon and Helena broke off their kiss and looked each other straight in the eye. Monica panicked when she heard that familiar humming, but she saw the red glow come from the girls’ eyes, not their chests. The twins stared hard at each other. Suddenly a laser-like beam shot from Helena’s eyes into her sister’s pupils. The beam buzzed loudly. Neither girl moved.

“Searching for link-up implant,” Helena said. She still looked the same: calm, confident, somehow very powerful. But it was easy to tell the twins apart now, because Sharon was getting sicker by the second.

“Please hurry,” Sharon said. It was the first time since she had been captured that Monica noticed emotion in her friend’s face and voice.

So she struggled against her restraints again, and tried to call out to Sharon, to try and beg her to fight against whatever was controlling her and her sister. But the restraints were still tight, and she could not form words with her lips pulled back as they were.

A high-pitched whine filled the room softly above the angry drone of the laser beam. Monica knew blackly that the whine was coming from within Sharon. A moment later, both noises broke off as if by a switch. The twins blinked and looked each other in the eye again.

“Interunit link reestablished,” they droned as one. They kissed again, their hands moving against each other’s bodies: their backs, arms, breasts, and rears. Helena was the first to slip a hand between her sister’s legs. Both began breathing heavier, as if both felt the touch. Without breaking off the kiss, Sharon quickly reached down with one hand to do the same to Helena. Now they were very excited. They kissed with real passion; their bodies writhed and ground together. Inside their vaginas fingers dug at impossible speeds. Monica figured that with their “interunit link”, what one felt, the other felt as well. They even cried out when their double orgasm hit their bodies. They cried out and held each other, leaning against the movie screen, until they had calmed down. It seemed to Monica, unable to look away, that the twins had been most as one at the moment of climax.

A couple of minutes later, Helena and Sharon untangled their arms and legs and stood up straight. Neither showed any sign of the lust from a moment ago. They walked behind Monica and one of them opened a closet door near the basement steps. Whichever one it was at the closet pulled something out and wheeled it on a carrier next to Monica’s chair. Monica strained her eyes and neck to take a look. It looked like some kind of gas tank. At the top of the metallic tank was a small faucet with a twist handle. There was a thin clear plastic tube connected to the valve. Sharon picked the tubing up and leaned over Monica’s shoulder. She wrapped a piece of the tube across Monica’s upper lip. The captive felt a pair of offshooting smaller tubes pointing up. Sharon carefully slid the tubes up into Monica’s nostrils, then wrapped the long and short ends over her ears.

Please don’t, Monica begged silently. She tried to catch Sharon’s gaze, but her old friend ignored her and concentrated on making sure the tubes were in place. Once that was done she reached over to the tank and twisted the dial. The gas hissed into Monica’s nose, and she tried not to breathe it in but it was hard to resist.

Helena meanwhile was setting up some other machinery behind Monica and Sharon. Monica heard a switch and the screen in front of her light up dimly, with white flickering light. Sharon turned the strobe off and suddenly the light on the screen glowed brighter.

“Sensory adaptation process ready,” the twins said. Helena flicked another switch on the projector and sound boomed from the sides of the room. It was voices; she could not quite make out what they were saying. It was several voices talking on top of each other. The voices were loud and echoed within the basement.

Sharon flipped one last switch. " Now report to Doctor Borellio,” the twins said, and walked upstairs without another word. The screen sprung to life. Colors and images, both moving and still, flashed in Monica’s eyes furiously, with blinding speed. She could not fix on any particular image, but they were creating a feeling within her she could not describe. She recognized some of the faces on the screen: herself, the twins, other friends from high school. Desperately Monica began to cry.

Her ears adjusted and she began to hear what the voices from the speakers were saying. She recognized the voices too: the twins, of course. And herself. Her own voice. Sharon must have replicated it. The confidence of the fake-Monica’s message contrasted harshly with the real Monica’s terrified sobbing.

“I love Sharon and Helena,” her “voice” told her. “They are my dear friends. My dearest friends. I think of them and no one else seems important. I must pay attention to my dearest friends. No one else is as important to me as Sharon and Helena, who are my very closest friends...”

“We love you so much,” Helena said. “When you are with us, we are not three, or even two and one more. We are one. We are one, you and we. But you have been bad to us.”

“I don’t want to ignore my dear sisters anymore,” she heard herself say through the speakers. “My sisters are so wonderful and I love them so much. I don’t have any other friends next to them. I don’t need anybody else but my sisters. Nobody else but my sisters.”

“We are one and you are ours,” Sharon said. “We are yours but you are ours. You are ours. We need your help. We need your help so we can be one.”

Monica stared at the screen and heard the voices. Her crying had drained the last of her energy. She simply could not resist anymore. Maybe if she had struggled more at the beginning she would have had a chance. But it was too late now. All she could do was resist in her mind. But the twins’ voices were like she remembered them. They were warm, playful without being silly, cheerful. She knew it was an illusion, but she was so tired and she wanted her friends to be back to normal so badly that it was getting harder to remember the truth. It was hard to remember and so easy to pretend and believe what the voices told her. Hours passed and she sat, watching the screen and listening with acceptance at what the voices told her. They were telling her about her mission. She had a mission, an important mission to please the Sharon and Helena very much. She wanted so much to please Sharon and Helena. She loved them and she was theirs. She was their-what, slave? Child? Dear friend? It did not matter because she loved them so much and wanted to be under them and did she lust after them too? Yes. She was attracted to the twins’ voices, because they were her sisters and because the voices were sexy. They were sexy. So perfect and sexy at the same time. She forgot the cyborgs that kidnapped her and saw her dearest friends as queens.

“We are your queens,” Sharon and Helena’s voices chanted. “We rule you and you do what we say. You will do what we say without question. We are your queens. You won’t remember your mission, but you will carry out your mission with total obedience when it is time to do so. Then you will forget your mission again, until the time comes to follow it once more.”

Yes, I will, Monica thought. My dear sisters are my queens. Now I must go and collect other subjects for the queens to rule. I will always be their most loyal subject but such perfect goddesses/queens need subjects to serve them. Of course. Now I can sleep.

Monica set down the box on the floor and stretched. That was the last one. Now she had to unpack. As she put things away, she reminisced about the summer. She was so glad she had the chance to catch up with her old friends, Sharon and Helena. The three had been almost inseparable over the summer, and most of the time it had only been the three of them over at their house. Monica did not mind, though. She never got tired of sleeping over with the twins. Old girlfriends came by sometimes, and it was nice to see them, too. All of them agreed that it was wonderful spending time with Helena and Sharon.

She was partway done when her new roommate showed up. Monica looked up as the dorm door opened. The girl that walked in was a little shorter than she was, with dark hair and olive-colored skin. The girl shook hands and told her that her name was Charlene.

“Could you help me with my last thing?” Charlene asked. “It’s a mini-fridge.”

“Great,” Monica said, excited. Charlene felt like a good fit already. Somehow she knew the new girl would be perfect.

They dragged the fridge into the room and plugged it in. Monica felt very content. She dug into one of her bags and pulled something out. “I’ve got something for you. Kind of a new-roommate present,” she said.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I don’t have anything for you,” Charlene moaned miserably.

Monica could not believe how sure of herself she felt. Usually she was so neurotic meeting new people. “Don’t worry about it, Charlene. Just take it,” she said and waved her hand at her new roommate casually.

“Well, okay. But I owe you,” Charlene said as she took the object from Monica’s hand. It looked like some sort of round vanity mirror, except the glass was distorted. As she looked into it, her face looked wavy.

“Um, what’s it for?” she asked.

“Oh here, you have to do this,” Monica said, and pushed a button on the back of the mirror. The surface of the mirror came to life. Lights flashed out of it, and underneath was a twisting hypnospiral that glowed red and yellow. Within moments Charlene stood still, eyes half-lidded and glassy, her mind wide open.

Monica laid her down on her bed. “Close your eyes,” she commanded tranquilly. She still had a busy day ahead of her. First she had to begin implanting suggestions into Charlene’s mind. Then she had to go sign up for classes and buy books. Then lunch, and after that she will call her parents to let them know she got back to school safely, and after that she had to call Doctor Borellio to let him know that she had begun collecting another subject. Hopefully Sharon and Helena would be around so she could their voices and worship them from afar. Tonight she wanted to go dancing on her last night of freedom before classes start. She decided to ask if Charlene wanted to come along. She seemed like a nice girl.