The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Susan hated Johnathan. He was a sexist pig, and under normal circumstances she would have had nothing to do with him, had they not worked together in the same legal team.

But she got very drunk at the office Christmas party, and she woke up the next day naked in a hotel room bed, with Johnathan’s semen on her face and breasts and leaking from her pussy. The sheets on the bed appeared to have been removed, and there was no sign of her clothes, so there was no way to hide her nudity as Johnathan emerged freshly washed—and naked himself—from the shower and sat on the bed with her.

“How is my new wife this morning?” he asked her.

“Wife?” she exclaimed, backing away from him and trying to cover herself with her hands. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We got married last night, remember?” he said. “I don’t know if someone dared you, or if the alcohol just ignited your secret passion for me, but you were very enthusiastic. It’s all legal. And then we came back here and I fucked you three or four times. I taped it all, so I’d have a record of your wedding night.”

She wanted to throw up. “I have no idea what I was thinking last night,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you gave me date rape drugs. But I have no interest in being married to you, and we need to get this undone at the first opportunity. Where are my clothes?”

He laughed, and wouldn’t give her her clothes—he said she’d thrown them off the balcony last night in a fit of passion—so she eventually had to scurry out of the hotel completely nude, trying to pretend she wasn’t covered in the cum of a man she hated. Her car was parked nearby, but apparently she’d thrown away her purse too, so she ended up walking home, blushing, humiliated.

She commenced divorce proceedings immediately. There was no cooling off period in her home jurisdictions, and the paperwork turned out to be legal, albeit scrawled in a fairly drunk font. She thought about making an application to have it nullified on the basis that she was too drunk to consent, but Johnathan said he had that video of him fucking her, and it might end up in evidence on any such application, and who knew what she had said or done on tape?

Unfortunately, it turned out she had also signed a fairly extensive pre-nuptial agreement that night, and that was when she knew that Johnathan must have been planning this, and probably drugged her, because it was very specific, and ironclad in its drafting. On divorce, Johnathan would get the majority of her financial assets, leaving her effectively penniless. She wept as she learned this, but thought it was still worth it to get out of a marriage with the scumbag.

But before it came to that, there needed to be mediation. The pre-nuptial specified that the couple would attend a minimum of three mediation sessions, with a mediator of Johnathan’s choosing, before any divorce could be finalised, and that Susan had to enter into them in good faith and participate fully.

She attended the first one—and then suddenly it was over. She couldn’t remember what had happened in the mediation session. She had entered the room, and then—blank. At the back of her mind, she remembered seeing that the mediator was also a licensed hypnotist. Could he have—but as soon as that thought formed, it vanished. Her mind apparently didn’t want to think about that. It probably wasn’t important.

But Johnathan recapped what had happened. Apparently she’d told the mediator that she didn’t want to be married to Johnathan because she didn’t respect him as forceful enough, and because she felt it was inappropriate to date a co-worker. Johnathan, meanwhile, had said he found her cold and frigid, and was disappointed with the size of her tits.

That didn’t sound right to Susan. Those weren’t her problems with Johnathan—were they? But she couldn’t summon any memories that disagreed with him. And he handed her a piece of paper, detailing the things they had both agreed to arising out of the mediation. Both being lawyers, apparently they had formatted it as a binding contract. She read it in disbelief.

“The parties, Susan and Johnathan, agree to the following:

(a) They will continue their marriage for a period of one month before seeking further mediation or divorce;

(b) Susan will provide Johnathan keys to her house, and he will visit at such times as he chooses for the purpose of furthering their joint marriage;

(c) Johnathan will forcefully and physically discipline Susan when he is unhappy with her, in a manner that she respects, and Susan consents to this;

(d) Susan will take a month of leave from the workplace;

(e) Susan will have breast enhancement surgery at the earliest opportunity, to a size and shape chosen by Johnathan, at Susan’s expense;

(e) Susan irrevocably consents to oral, vaginal or anal intercourse with Johnathan, at any time of his choosing, as often as he chooses, and authorises him to use force to ensure her compliance.”

Susan felt sick again. Johnathan could enter her house, discipline her, and rape her? Susan would get fake tits? How could she have agreed to this? But there was her signature. She seized the paper, with the intention of ripping it up—but something stopped her. She had agreed to this. Something in her mind was telling her she had to hold to her agreement. She had to actually do these things. She felt confused.

“It’s okay, Susan,” he said. “Let me drive you home.”

And he did drive her home—and then followed her into the house, and raped her. He fucked her pussy, and then a while later he forced himself into her mouth and ejaculated down her throat. When she struggled, he slapped her.

When he was done, he went through the house and collected up all her clothes, except for a few micro G-strings and high heels, and put them in a garbage bag. He also took all her sheets and towels—anything that could cover her nudity—and packed the whole lot into his car. He also took her purse and keys and phone.

She phoned in to work to take her month of leave the next day. She made the embarrassing walk, naked in heels, to the charity bin at the nearby shops, and pulled out some dirty used clothes—but when Johnathan came by that night and raped her again, he just took the clothes away again, and after that she stopped trying. She was effectively a prisoner in her house, imprisoned by her unwillingness to walk the streets nude, and every night Johnathan would come and rape her. He brought her dinner, at least, and the food was usually quite nice.

She was a practical girl, and put thought into how to get the best out of her situation. Ideas of contacting friends, contacting the police, or other sources of help just flew out of her brain as quickly as she formed them. They would all amount to breaking her agreement, which she seemed unable to do, or even want to do.

She decided that the best thing she could do to improve her position was to masturbate before Johnathan arrived each evening. At least then she’d be wet, and it would hurt less. It turned out to be quite effective—Johnathan responded to her wet pussy by taking more time with foreplay, teasing her cunt and licking her nipples, and (embarrassingly) she began to actually orgasm from his rapes. In time, she found herself starting to get wet at 6.30 each night, shortly before Johnathan was due to arrive, whether she was masturbating or not—a distinctly Pavlovian response.

She got her breast enhancements, of course. Johnathan drove her to the clinic, and after it was all done she cried when she saw her new fake round plastic tits. She looked like a stripper. Johnathan bought her blonde hair dye, too, and told her she would be slapped if she didn’t use it. The blonde completed the image. She couldn’t reconcile the bimbo in the mirror with the smart, professional lawyer she identified as.

At the end of the month, she told Johnathan she wanted divorce again. He told her she still had two mediation sessions to go. He brought her an outfit to wear to the session—a skin-tight sheath dress, with a hemline that didn’t fully cover her pussy, and no underwear. She blushingly wore it, as it was better than being naked, and together they attended the mediator.

Again, she had no memory of the session. Johnathan told her that this time her complaints were that she wanted to fuck other men—and women—and that she and Johnathan had different views on the role of women. Johnathan’s complaints were that because she wasn’t working, she wasn’t bringing any money into the marriage, and that he wanted to fuck other women.

Susan thought this sounded more reasonable than the last session. She did want to fuck other men—although where had “women” come from? She wasn’t bisexual. And she did have different views on the role of women to Johnathan. He seemed to think they were nothing but fucktoys.

But then he showed her the new agreement, arising from the mediation.

“The parties, Susan and Johnathan, agree to the following:

(a) They will continue their marriage for a period of one month before seeking further mediation or divorce;

(b) They will continue all the terms of their previous agreement;

(c) Johnathan will arrange men and women for Susan to have intercourse with. She will submit to their sexual demands, and in return they will pay Johnathan sums of money, which will be wholly his property;

(d) Johnathan will provide material for Susan to study on the role of women, to bring their views into alignment. He will test her on the material and discipline her if he finds her lacking;

(e) Johnathan is free to have extramarital relations with any woman he chooses. Susan will be polite and deferential to any such woman and submit to their demands as she would to Johnathan’s.”

She sobbed as she read. She had agreed to be a prostitute? To study how to be a better sex doll? Surely she hadn’t. But she knew she would hold to this agreement.

Her days were at least full now. She took another month of leave, and Johnathan still visited and fucked her in the evenings. He left her with lists of websites with names like “Women = Cunts” and “Bimbo Training Academy”, and she would spend her days browsing then and masturbating, interrupted only when Johnathan sent her a client. Later, he would test her, asking her if she deserved to be beaten with a belt on the tits or the cunt (the correct answer was “both”), or giving her a stack of photos of naked women and asking her which three women she most identified with (it was a trick question—the correct answer was to point to the cow in the background of one photo, a female dog being walked in another, and a pig in a third).

Fucking strangers was hard, especially as many were abusive and enjoyed hurting her, but constant masturbation made it easier. Some of the clients, as hinted at in the agreement, were women, and she got quite good at licking cunts and sucking on tits.

Toward the end of the month, Johnathan introduced her to his new girlfriend, Alexandra—who had been Susan’s chief rival a work, a woman who she truly hated. Johnathan would bring Alex to Susan’s house, and fuck her in Susan’s bed while Susan watched and masturbated, and then Susan would have to lick Johnathan’s cum from Alex’s pussy as Alex laughed and called her a whore. Alex and Johnathan would eat dinner at Susan’s dining table, but Susan’s would be fed to her in a dog bowl that she had to eat on all fours. At first she was at least still eating the same meal they were eating, but after a while Alex started buying cans of dog food and insisting Susan be fed those instead.

At the end of the month, they went back into mediation. Alex came too, because she “had some ideas for Susan”. “You want a baby, don’t you, Susan?” she told her in the car.

“No!” said Susan.

“I think you do,” said Alex. “I can’t have one, because I’m barren, but I think you’re sad that Johnathan won’t give you a baby.”

It turned out she must have wanted a baby, because she told the mediator she did. She told the mediator she knew her place was naked on all fours, sucking Johnathan’s cock, and she was worried she might have to go back to her horrible stressful legal job someday. She told the mediator she loved Alex and wanted to make Alex happy.

Johnathan showed her the agreement afterwards.

“The parties agree:

(a) Their marriage will continue indefinitely;

(b) Susan will transfer her house into Alexandra’s name and her other property and financial assets into Johnathan’s name, and any further property or assets she acquires will instantly be transferred to Johnathan, in perpetuity;

(c) Susan shall cease birth control and assist Johnathan to impregnate her. Upon birth, the child shall be given to Alexandra, who shall be deemed its mother;

(d) Susan will continue to express her milk indefinitely, and undertake such activities as Johnathan prescribes to maximise her milk supply, and this will happen in a degrading and painful manner consistent with Susan’s identity as a stupid cow;

(e) Susan irrevocably consents to any sexual activity or discipline that Johnathan or Alexandra impose upon her, in perpetuity;

(f) Susan will attend her legal workplace, dressed sluttily in an outfit of Johnathan’s choosing, and go from co-worker to co-worker asking them to painfully rape her, starting with the ones most likely to say yes, until she has both (i) made the offer to every co-worker, or (ii) been fired;

(g) In the event of any further dispute between Susan and either Johnathan or Alexandra, it will be resolved in the following manner: at the time the dispute begins, Susan will no longer be able to stand upright, instead crawling on all fours, and she will lose the ability to orgasm without permission. As the dispute continues, she will feel a growing need to be fucked and have her tits or pussy hurt. She will begin imagining ways to hurt and degrade her that she does not actually want to happen, and tell them to Johnathan and/or Alexandra as she thinks of them, and beg him to do them to her. This will continue until the dispute is resolved by Susan unreservedly yielding her position and submitting to Johnathan and/or Alexandra.”

He showed her the outfit she would be wearing to work, as she begged her former peers to rape her—kitten ears, painful weighted nipple clamps, a clit clamp, a pussy spreader, and a painfully large kitten tail butt plug.

Her tears, he told her, just made her prettier.

(END)