The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hello. It’s Miranda, isn’t it? Isobel’s mother?”

“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you?”

“I believe so. Has Iz mentioned me? My name is Edward Ridgeway. I’ve been guiding her training in Dr Zeedyk’s absence.”

“Oh, really? No, I’m afraid she hasn’t said anything to me. But if you’re helping her, then that’s wonderful. I was worried she might lose her way without Charles’ guidance. Would you like to come in?”

“That would be perfect, Miranda. You see, I do need to discuss something important with you in relation to your daughter.”

“Well then, do come inside.”

At her kitchen table, Iz’s mother listened with interest as Professor Ridgeway explained in delicate terms that he had been steering her daughter into more permanent territory than the Zeedyks had previously done. He stayed purposely vague concerning the details. Sensing she was at her ease, he suggested he demonstrate on her the relation technique he employed on his daughter. Recalling the Zeedyk focus box and the dreamy, happy memory she had of looking at it, Miranda readily agreed. Anything to help her daughter.

Ridgeway opened his messenger bag and pulled out a small black box and a pair of glasses. He untangled the wires and set the device down on the table.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind putting on these glasses …”

Ridgeway rotated the switch, and watched with interest as Iz’s mother slumped into trance almost as fast as her daughter. What a family, he thought.

“Can you hear me, Miranda?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s very good. Now, we have to have a talk about Iz, and what you need to do for her.”

Iz gasped out in frustration. She pushed out her legs and lowered her hips back onto the floor. She must have been holding that position for fifteen minutes. She cursed. Every single night this week, she had promised herself she wouldn’t practice. And every single night, she sobbed with self-loathing after she realised she had gone ahead and posed in every position anyway. And now it was Friday. Tomorrow morning she was to visit Professor Ridgeway in his office for the second time. That was another thing she had promised herself she wouldn’t do.

So when dawn broke the next morning, she moaned to herself as she pulled back her comforter and rose out of bed. It was though she were floating behind her own head. She watched herself get dressed, leave the house, and catch the bus to the university.

Now here she was, hopelessly waiting outside his office again, counting the minutes down until ten. But things would be different when she went inside, she told herself. I’m strong enough, she thought. I’m not really a slave. She knocked on the door.

“Come in, Iz.” She heard him shout. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

Without looking up from his book, he waved her in with his hand. Filled with loathing, Iz crept towards him and sat down in the empty chair. On his desk she saw those awful black glasses and the control box. After a moment he looked up at her, a quizzical look on his face.

“Well, I guess we should consult the old manual, eh?” He pulled open a drawer and lifted out a black binder. He began flicking through the pages. Iz could see each leaf was filled with different handwritten scripts. The phone next to his elbow abruptly vibrated and lit up. He glanced at the caller ID, and plucked it up.

“Excuse me, Iz. It’s my wife.”

Wife? Iz was shocked. She had never even thought about that. She stole a glance at his left hand and saw a silver wedding band. It hadn’t occurred to her to look before now. And she’d … with a dirty cheater. She sat in shamed silence while he chatted.

“Okay darling. Yes, I’ll be home for dinner. Yes. Bye.” He slide the receiver closed.

“My apologies. Anyway, where were we?” He returned his attention to the binder.

“Where were we. Where. Were. We.” Ridgeway muttered as he leafed back through the pages. To her horror, Iz realised that binder must contain notes about her. What else is in there? She was aghast.

“Ah, yes. We’re right on schedule, you and I.” He said, not looking up from his notes. He picked up a pen and began writing.

“Get undressed Iz. And assume position … oh, I don’t know. Four?”

Iz mustered all of her strength. It was now or never. She forced herself to remain seated. Seconds passed. Ridgeway stopped writing and looked at her.

“Something wrong, Iz?”

“I … I’m … not doing it.” She squeaked, trying to sound resolute.

“Wow. I’m impressed.” He remarked, lifting his eyebrows over the rims of his spectacles.

“Resistance this late in the game. Good for you, Iz. Better late than never. But still, far far too late, I’m afraid.” He placed the pen down carefully and fixed his eyes on the girl. He placed those terrible black glasses right under her nose.

“Iz. Put on the glasses.”

“N … no …” She guttered, managing to force real anger into her voice this time.

“Put on the glasses, Iz.” He calmly repeated.

“NO!” She shouted.

She watched in horror as her hands picked up the glasses. She couldn’t stop herself pushing the legs behind her ears. Oh … shit … she thought, as she closed her eyes. Then she saw that shocking burst of white light again, followed by the prickles of colours and the shapes and the strobes and then … nothing.

She woke up to find herself lying stretched out across the faded couch.

“Ah. You’re up.” Ridgeway said. “Do you feel better now?”

“I … I don’t know.” She answered, honestly confused. She felt like she was in the air.

“Of course you don’t.” He snorted. “You’re all over the place. You tried to convince yourself that certain things weren’t true. But the truth is always inescapable, I’m afraid. It’s time for you to learn a lesson about truth. Come on, pick yourself up. We’re going for a ride.”

Iz waited while the Professor locked his office door, and then followed him out of the building and to his car. Inside his beat-up old Aveo, the pair travelled in silence. Iz wondered where they were headed. She wanted to ask, but Ridgeway seemed singularly focused on the road ahead. Eventually he pulled over on a street mostly full of shuttered stores. They were in one of the dark forgotten corners of the city, somewhere Iz had never been.

“This is us.” Ridgeway stated, pointing at a store with dirty yellow screens covering its windows. Iz craned her neck to read the name on the store’s billboard. The faded letters said ‘House Of Paradise’.

“Come on.” He told her, and slid out of his seat. Iz dutifully followed.

Her cheeks burned red hot as soon as they passed through the frosted glass door and into the store. She immediately recognised what this place was. Black leather fetish wear adorned the walls. There were racks of luridly titled videos littering unkempt shelves. She turned her head and saw a glass cabinet filled with obscenely large rubber dildos. The entire rear wall was crowded with a sign that read PEEP SHOWS. She swallowed hard. Why had the Professor brought her here?

“Over here, Iz.” She heard him call out. He was standing talking to the man behind the counter. He was a haggard looking creature. Iz walked timidly over to join them.

“Iz, this is Manny.”

Manny nodded at her, uncaring.

“Booth five open today, Manny?” Ridgeway asked. The man nodded again.

“Okay then. Iz, at the back of the store there is a series of private booths. You are to go into booth five and wait there until I come back for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Leaving the men, she made her way along the aisle, trying to ignore the smell of wet latex in her nostrils. She made it to the booths, and entered the one stencilled number five. She closed and locked the door behind her. She looked around the gloom. The flooring was a faded vinyl sheet, the walls were a dirty cream. There was a space where once an old 16mm film booth must have stood, but was now empty. Apart from a small wooden bench, the room was empty. Iz squeezed her arms into her chest and sat down on the bench. Why was she in here? She was completely lost.

Then she saw it. Almost level with her eye line. There was a rough hole gouged out of the plasterboard wall. It was about as big as her fist. She stared at it. She felt an awful sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew what it was for … and it dawned on her why she had been brought here.

Suddenly she heard the rustle of movement in the adorning booth. There was someone in there! She heard a harsh sound she didn’t recognise. And then pushing through the glory hole, she saw it. A man’s thick, rigid cock, straining upwards. Iz shrank back. But she couldn’t take her eyes from it. Something stirred in her brain. The memory of last Saturday. The taste of cum in her mouth. That word again … addiction. She hadn’t even realised she was leaning closer to this unseen man’s bobbing shaft until she jerked herself back. But the urge didn’t leave her. If I just … her thought trailed off. I just need …

She lost control for a single moment, and then she was on her knees, her face an inch away from this anonymous man’s cock. Remembering what she had done to the Professor, she kissed the tip of it. She heard a delighted growl through the thin plasterboard. She kissed again. Then her tongue left her mouth and she tasted it. That was all she needed. She brushed her lips around him, letting her saliva coat the tip of his glans. She pulled back, sucking as she did. And unexpectedly, he came. Iz’s eyes fluttered in surprise as she felt the first hot splash of sticky fluid slap her in the face. She tried to pull away but it was too late. He kept lashing spurt after spurt all over her. It stuck to her hair. It trickled down her cheeks. With a satisfied grunt the man withdrew his softening prick through the hole.

Without thinking, Iz licked her lips. When that taste hit her senses, suddenly she was wiping at her cheeks with her fingers and sucking them into her mouth one at a time. She kept at it until she was sure she had found it all. Still she kept swallowing, loving even the faint sting that remained on her tongue. She rocked back and forward on her knees, not wanting to believe what she had just done.

Another noise in the booth. More soft groaning. Then she saw a smaller, thinner cock thrust though the hole. Then soon another, and then another, and then another. And she knelt there and took each one in her mouth, licking and lapping and suckling on each one in turn, drawing out each orgasm as quickly as she could, swallowing down each delightful mouthful.

Iz had no idea how long she had been in there before she heard Professor Ridgeway knocking on the door. She had lost count of how many cocks she had swirled around with her needy tongue. Her knees ached when she tried to stand up. Her neck was stiff. It was dusk, but her eyes still hurt in the thinning light. She must have spent hours in the darkness of that evil booth. Putting an arm around her shoulder, Ridgeway silently led her, shaking, along the street to his car. Despite herself, she fell into him, letting him carry the better part of her weight.

In his car, she sat staring down at her lap. She could see the front of her shirt. The pretty yellow floral pattern was darkly stained all over. Her cheeks and chin felt crusted with the drying streaks of the cum she hadn’t managed to scrape onto her tongue. Even worse, her panties were soaked through.

“I hope you learned an important lesson today, Iz. We can’t escape our addictions. It would be best for you to admit that to yourself.”

She was unable to say a word in reply.

“However. I’m afraid your defiance this morning really was intolerable. Expect an appropriate punishment next Saturday.”

He stopped the car. It Iz took a moment to realise they were outside her house. He had brought her home. She fumbled for the handle and climbed out. Before she could collect herself, he called her back to the window.

“I almost forgot,” He said, leaning over the passenger seat to hand her a white plastic bag. “I bought you a gift in Paradise. Bring it with you next week.”

Iz took it. Ridgeway’s car pulled from the kerb and left. She looked inside the bag. She pulled something out and inspected it. It was a strip of leather three fingers in width and about twelve inches long. There was a handle on one end. She tried to bend it with her hands. It was rigid.

Iz was so upset she completely forgot about removing her clothes when she closed her door. She stumbled into the living room and collapsed.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Her mother asked when she saw her. “Why are you still dressed?”

“Mom … I … it’s all wrong. I’m turning into … I …” She couldn’t grasp the words.

“What, darling?”

“I’m … they’re training me to be a slave!”

“Who is?”

“Doctor Zeedyk! And now Ridgeway too!” She sobbed.

“Professor Ridgeway? But that’s exactly what you need! Darling, you should feel lucky that you have people like him and Dr Zeedyk to train you to be the best slave you can be! He told me all about your problems.”

“What? What problems? When did you talk to him?”

“He came round to visit during the week. I had the day off and you were in college. He’s a very clever man. Don’t worry any more. He explained it all to me.”

“What?”

“The only thing you need to worry about, is this new exercise position Edward informed me that you have to learn.”

Iz was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe what he mother was saying.

“This one you’ll have to practice a lot. You’ll have to be able to hold it for thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes? Wait … I—I don’t …”

“It’s okay, honey. Edward left me a note so I can tell you exactly how you’re to pose.”

Iz’s eyes pulsed. Her shoulders slumped in absolute defeat.

Once she had undressed and washed the cum out of her hair, her mother directed her as to the details of her new position. Iz felt as though she were living some other girl’s life. She dumbly followed along.

She knelt, and like in her other poses, pushed her knees as far apart as she could. She pointed her feet to the floor. Next she sat back, just not far enough to rest upon her legs. Instead, she had to keep her bottom raised up and pushed back. She also had to keep her back as straight as she could whilst pushing her chest out. Finally, she reached back and held onto her ankles.

Iz collapsed down. The ache in her neck had distracted her. She had lost her grip around her left ankle and slipped off. Her back pulsed with pain.

“That was only eight minutes, honey. You’ll have to try harder.”

Iz looked up at her mother. She burned with sick humiliation as she stood over her, encouraging her to be a better slave. She pulled herself back up and worked her body back into the position she had to get used to holding.

Slowly, strangely, as she settled into this new pose, Iz felt her heart rate gradually return to it’s normal rhythm. She felt that old familiar tingle. It was even more sensitive in this stance, for some reason. She couldn’t escape the fact that these exercises still made her feel so good. And, she started to reflect, she couldn’t help but acknowledge that she truly was addicted to the taste of cum. How could she pretend otherwise, after her shameless performance in the booth of the House Of Paradise. She relaxed further as the minutes ticked by.

After all, her mother was right, Iz considered. If she really had to be a slave, there wasn’t anyone more qualified to train her than Dr Z. She sighed. She couldn’t wait for him to return.