The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I’m glad to see that you’ve decided to take me up on my offer.”

The two guards escorted Shannon into the room and led her down the aisle, past four tiers of seats to the sunken floor where Greta—and a large mattress on a platform—waited.

“Have a seat.” Greta indicated one of the front-row chairs directly overlooking the bed. As she sat down, she got a better look, and saw that it was two portable cots placed side-by-side and locked together.

“I reserved us a briefing room—or should I say debriefing room?” Greta chuckled as she took the seat next to her. “Before we begin, I want to show you a few options and let you choose the one you prefer.”

She looked over her left shoulder toward the corner of the room. The redheaded guard had taken her place there, seated next to a console. “Elena?”

Elena pushed a button, and the air above the bed flickered. Then two figures appeared in it. Another Shannon, and another Greta. Shannon was lying naked on the bed with her legs spread, and Greta, equally naked, was kneeling over her straddling her left knee.

After a few seconds, Greta waved a hand in front of Shannon’s eyes. “You look like you’ve never seen a hologram before,” she quipped.

Of course Shannon knew what it was. She could see that the figures did not make any impression on the mattress. She tried to focus on that, and on other subtle details that showed that the images weren’t real.

The next thing she knew, the images were moving: holoGreta’s body descending onto holoShannon’s.

“The first option I want to show you is a variation on the missionary position,” Greta narrated. “Instead of getting between your legs, I straddle one of them, so each of us can get her pussy tight against her partner’s thigh.”

Shannon turned away from the bed to glare at her. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said flatly.

Greta cocked her head expectantly.

“You’re trying to get me warmed up so it’ll be easier to make me cum. It won’t work.”

“If you say so,” Greta replied in a tone that suggested that she thought Shannon was being ridiculous but didn’t feel like arguing.

Of course, Shannon was right. The whole point of this holographic girl-on-girl sexual smorgasbord was to make her more responsive. These images didn’t have much effect on Greta—after all the work she’d done assembling and customizing them out of her library of animation elements, she was a bit weary of seeing them—but they would surely excite any sparks of bi-curiosity lurking in Shannon’s mind. At the very least, watching herself engaged in a variety of lesbian sex acts might make her more receptive to the real thing.

It was a multi-layered gambit. Watching Shannon’s reactions to the various scenarios would provide clues about hot buttons to push and turn-offs to avoid. Also, giving her some control over the proceedings would make her feel more involved, and perhaps even a bit grateful. If nothing else, the presentation was an opportunity to build tension—tension that could be tapped into sexual release when the two women shared that bed in the flesh.

It simply would not do for her to look away from it. “Now pay attention—”

Greta was cut short by the sound of Shannon’s voice moaning loudly from the briefing room floor. There was no need to finish her comment; Shannon’s gaze was now riveted on the bed.

The two figures in the bed were entwined in a close embrace, thrusting and squirming against each other. Gradually, their motions became smoother, settling into a steady rhythm of crotches grinding against thighs. The accompanying sound waxed and waned, sighs and murmurs in Greta’s voice alternating wtih cries and moans in Shannon’s.

Shannon stared, watching the image... watching herself... being mounted by her captor. She’d imagined doing this—with a man, of course—when the time was right, which it somehow never quite seemed to be. Her own voice gasped from the bed, and Shannon wondered if she would sound like that. She didn’t make that kind of noise when she fingered herself, but she knew this wasn’t the same thing.

She told herself to just keep calm. She still had a chance to turn the tables.

Meanwhile, Greta observed with a more technical eye. This had been the trickiest part of the animation programming. In each scenario, she had carefully tweaked the transition from clumsy fumblings to smooth coupling, making it definite but not obvious that holoGreta was setting the tempo and holoShannon was adapting herself to it. Similarly, she had made holoShannon’s cries and physical reactions noticably but not excessively more intense than holoGreta’s.

If this worked as planned, Shannon would absorb those patterns without consciously noticing them. The image of her partner in control and herself yielding to passion would insinuate itself into her expectations, making it that much more likely to happen during the actual event.

Finally, the figures froze in place as the sequence concluded. Greta had not brought the action to its logical conclusion —depicting herself as the winner would be much too blatantly obvious, and she certainly wasn’t going to depict herself as the loser —but she did go so far as to end the action with holoShannon’s head titled back, mouth and eyes wide open, contrasting with holoGreta’s almost serene expression of pleasure.

“That’s one variation,” Greta said. “If you prefer to be on top, we could do it that way.” Another version of the scene began to play, this time with holoShannon straddling holoGreta’s leg.

Greta draped an arm over Shannon’s shoulder. Leaning close to her ear, she whispered, “Oh, yeah, make me your bitch, girlfriend!”

Shannon shuddered. Greta’s touch and her sultry tone made her feel helplessly swept up in this, above and beyond merely being trapped into the situation. It was as if she not only couldn’t stop this, she couldn’t even fight it or protest against it.

At the same time, Greta had her own nervous moment. She was afraid that she’d pushed it too far; that the other woman would decide to change her mind about going through with this and damn the consequences. The moment passed as she just took a deep breath and kept staring ahead.

Slowly, Shannon relaxed a bit—and Greta relaxed even more, confident that if her quarry hadn’t tried to bolt now then she wasn’t going to.

After another minute or so, the second scene ended—being somewhat redundant, it was only about half as long as the first. The images became still, holoShannon arching her back a bit as holoGreta firmly grabbed her ass and pulled her down into another thrust. It was one more bit of reinforcement for the recurring hints about the two women’s sexual roles.

“There’s another missionary-position version, where I get between your legs and we pull each other close enough to rub my pussy right onto yours. That’s a bit tricky for a first-timer like you, though.” Greta signaled Elena to begin the next animation. “Instead, I’m going to show you an easier position for that. It’s called ‘scissoring’”

The two figures now lay diagonally across the bed, heads in the corners and legs entwined in the middle. They scooted closer together, sorting themselves out so that each had her left leg draped over her partner’s right.

Shannon watched silently as the holograms closed into scissoring position and began to wriggle against each other. It was hard for Greta to tell whether she was simply resigned to her fate, was psyching herself up to win the coming contest, or was actually starting to get into it.

Actually, Shannon’s reaction combined all three of those possibilities. She found herself seriously thinking about whether this ‘scissoring’ position would be more or less uncomfortable—in both senses of the word—than the first option of lying back and letting Greta climb on top of her. She also tried to guess which one would make it easier to make Greta cum before she did. Also, she was starting to feel little twitches between her legs when the images on the bed thrust against each other or when she heard a particularly passionate cry in her own voice.

As Shannon felt a particularly strong tingle, she realized that her right hand was sliding onto her upper thigh. She forced it back to her side, hoping that Greta hadn’t noticed.

In fact, Greta hadn’t. She was preoccupied with wondering how Shannon was responding to the steady stream of subtle signals about Greta’s dominance and her own susceptibility to stimulation. Those signals were being sent again, as holoGreta grasped holoShannon’s leg to pull her closer while holoShannon kept her own hands on the bed to brace herself as she quivered. Was Shannon being unconsciously influenced by the messages, or aware of them and on her guard?

Greta told herself that the outcome was all but certain in any case. She was an experienced lesbian lover; Shannon was a naive virgin. These extra tricks were only supplements to the advantage she already held. Still, she found herself wishing she’d made this presentation shorter, so she could get this over with. She considered giving Elena the sign to cut this scenario short and proceed to the next, but resisted the temptation. Best to stick to the plan.

At last it was over, holoShannon’s murmur of “Oh, God!” fading away as her face froze into a blatantly pre-orgasmic grimace. Greta’s lips tightened—surely that had been pushing it too far; what the hell had she been thinking? Quickly, she waved to Elena to start the next scene.

A moment later, the next image appeared: holoGreta straddled holoShannon, the two facing in opposite directions so that each had her mouth a few inches from her partner’s crotch.

Shannon gaped, trying to see some way this configuration might not mean what she thought it meant. Because... the idea made her feel nauseous.

Taking a deep breath, she nerved herself up to say something. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to watch—”

“All right.”

Shannon stopped short, surprised at how easily her captor had given in.

“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Greta continued.

“What...” Shannon’s retort trailed off, as if unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie that was nevertheless true in a limited sort of way. Deciding to leave well enough alone, she said no more.

“Elena, next scene,” Greta said, speaking rather than signaling to emphasize her willingness to concede this point. She had enough experience in her job to understand that small favors to a prisoner could yield large payoffs in cooperation. This was an especially easy favor to grant, as she personally preferred scissor-sex to sixty-nine anyway.

The two images lay side by side on the bed. Each had her outside hand handcuffed to the bedframe and her inside hand lying on the other woman’s pubes, held there by a leather wristband connected to leather thighbands. A line of small pillows were stuck between their bodies, holding them a few centimeters apart.

“This setup is a bit unusual. I was wondering about the minimum amount of physical contact two lovers could have, and this was the answer I came up with.” The figures began flexing their fingers, stroking each other’s folds. “Just one hand each, right on target, not allowed to roam.”

The animation began, less noticeably in this scene than in the others. The only movement was the stroking fingers, and an occasional shudder from holoShannon or little wriggle from holoGreta. Greta had made holoShannon’s vocalizations only slightly louder and more frequent than holoGreta’s, worried that the usual pattern would seem too obvious in the action-sparse scene.

Shannon watched the fingers stroking her doppelganger’s crotch. By looking at it out the corner of her eye a certain way, she could almost shut the other figure out of her view and pretend that she was simply watching herself masturbate. It was relaxing, at least compared to what had gone before.

Her fingers slid into the waistband of her prison garb. She didn’t try to stop them or pay any mind to whether her jailer was watching.

Then it was over, and the bed was empty. Shannon came fully back to her senses and quickly got her hands and clothes back where they belonged.

“That was the last one,” Greta said. “Now, do you need a minute or two to decide?”

“I want us to do that last one. The one with just one hand touching each other.”

Greta had half-expected that. The real reason for including that option was to provide a way for her quarry to go through with the deal with minimal last-minute resistance. The girl was probably telling herself that it wasn’t really going to be lesbian sex at all, and that if she won she’d get away with her virginity, and specifically her girl-virginity, intact.

That was fine with Greta. Once Shannon was hers, she’d learn soon enough to enjoy the full gamut of lesbian lovemaking.

“All right.” Greta said, rising from her chair and holding out a hand to Shannon. Step by step, she led her down to the bed.