The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

There are some parts of a city that unfortunately, but inevitably, get left out of the local governments’ plans and soon end up looking rundown and derelict. These areas tend to gradually lose their value and become slums for gangs and various other troublesome individuals.

Buildings degrade, good folk stay well clear and public services either break down or cease to exist. Prostitution rings spring up, pimps take over, violence erupts and the cops sit and eat doughnuts.

Or at least, that’s the worst case scenario.

A certain Samantha Patterson, the sort of sensible girl that most parents would love to have their sons’ bring home, is a stranger to these sorts of places. Not that she’s a rich bitch or a brainless bimbo, but our Samantha knows well enough to avoid trouble spots for her own safety.

I suppose it’s a shame that our Samantha has to wake up lying naked on the filthy floor of an abandoned public toilet, smack bang in the middle of such an area, with no idea of how she got there.

And it would be much more inconvenient for her if those two lovely hands were tied firmly behind her back and she had a seemingly uncontrollable craving for human waste of all kinds.

Did I mention that it was a Gentleman’s toilet? Not that there many ‘gentleman’ in this part of town anyway, but I suppose it’s important to know.

For sweet Samantha, lawyer by profession, this is HER worst case scenario.

It was the pitch black of midnight outside the disused public toilet block when Samantha groggily came too. Her eyes fluttered open but her mind stayed asleep for several more moments as the effects of the drug wore off and her focus steadied.

The first thing her vision was greeted by was a small pool of vaguely-yellow looking liquid resting in the cracks of a broken tile a few centimetres from the tip of her nose. The smell reached her a moment later and she backed up, a disgusted expression on her freckled face.

She made to stand but her hands didn’t respond and her bare feet slid on the slippery tiled surface. As the energy came back to her restrained arms, eight fingers and two thumbs fought frantically with the newly discovered bonds behind her back.

A grim awareness of her naked condition reached her mind and the struggle became more determined. Remarkably, she managed to stand. Anxious eyes quickly searched the small room, offhandedly taking in the two wash basins to her left and the three toilets to her right, each sealed separately from one another and complete with lockable doors.

Behind her were several wall urinals and a small cupboard, but her interest lay solely on the metal-barred doorway in front of her, through which she could barely make out several buildings in the distance. Scurrying over quickly but carefully, it took only one glance at the heavy padlock holding the gate firmly shut to dishearten her completely.

Tears pooled in her eyes even as she at last became aware of two A4-sized printed notices, side by side, on the wall near the gate, simply titled ‘Read This’.

Moving closer, Samantha stifled back her tears and slowly read the wall-mounted note.

“Dear Samantha,

I understand that you must be feeling quite afraid right now, what with you being unclothed and restrained as you are, but I assure you that your fear is unnecessary since what happens during your stay here is completely down to you.

Perhaps that’s a little untrue, since I too will be influencing what happens, but rest assured that your life is in relatively little danger, or at least no more than if you were anywhere else.

I must also apologise for lying to you as I did. Our meeting, the candlelit dinners, the trips far and wide were nothing more than carefully set up events that led to this very day. But I lied not about my wealth, for I am indeed a multi-millionaire. Remember when I said that I love to spend money on women? Believe it or not, you my dear Samantha have cost me much in the last few weeks. All of this would not have been possible else wise.

Let us speak of your predicament, trapped and alone in a Gentleman’s public loo, in the middle of nowhere. You see, I happened upon an interesting technology a long while ago. In the simplest terms, it’s a form of mind control. It has its limits of cause, but several ‘tests’ involving beautiful ladies such as yourself have already been carried out. You would not believe some of the things I have seen since then.

Or perhaps you will, since I’m sorry to say that I’ve chosen YOU for my greatest test yet. The mind controlling technology works by interpreting written word and directly stimulating the part of the mind that processes the information in a manner differently to how it would normally do so.

Sound confusing? You just need to know that, basically, the instructions on this very letter are about to become your whole world. You’ll understand better when you see it in practice. And notice that you can’t stop reading? That’s because you no doubt read the underlined title first—Read This.

Well, let’s get the instructions over with. First of all, you can’t leave this public toilet, no matter what the reason. Secondly, you will never speak while here, and that includes not vocally releasing pleasure of any kind.

The cupboard is your new home; you will remain there at all times of the day to avoid being noticed by the public users of this facility. You will touch nothing and you will not try to release your bonds. You are handcuffed and secured with what many call ‘bondage tape’, this combination of bonds is extremely effective but not impervious.

Now for the fun part; you can easily turn the water taps with your mouth to gain access to clean water, but there is a distinct lack of food.

Samantha, I assume you are not aware that the three toilets in here are all broken. They do not flush, and get blocked easily. You will clean them every time that they are used, being careful to avoid being seen.

Forget the single toilet brush located in the cupboard, since you would be unable to use it anyway. You will kneel before the toilet and remove whatever human waste you find with your mouth. There are no bins or waste baskets available, so you will devour each and every piece of shit that you find, and lap up the water in the bottom of the toilet until it looks clean.

And it’s such a shame that the wall-mounted urinals are broken too, isn’t it? Jammed with bubble-gum and various other items of junk, they look really filthy at the end of the day; piss, spit, you’ll be amazed at the sorts of waste you’ll find in there. I want them all licked clean at the end of the night when the toilet is closed up. You’ll have until early morning to finish the job before the public are allowed in again.

You can keep watch from the cupboard; it has a nice-sized hole for you to look out of. And remember I told you about that toilet-brush? It stands straight upwards in a fixed holder secured to the ground, with the handle pointing up. The handle itself is long and rigid, about eight inches from tip to brush.

That toilet brush is your sex partner from now on. You will sit on it like you would a man’s cock whenever you are in your cupboard. You may not fuck it until midnight when the gate is locked, but even then you must clean the urinals first. You may ride it until morning when the toilet is opened once again, and then the whole thing starts again.

One more detail: during the night when you may freely ride the toilet brush, if you get to the point of orgasm, you will rise up off the handle and wait for the feeling to pass. You may continue riding it until the desire to cum returns and then you will, as before, rise off and wait for it to pass. This process you will repeat as necessary. Sorry Samantha, you may get a little annoyed being denied your orgasms in this manner, but it’s more fun for me this way.

Let me sum it up for you. You live in the cupboard, with the handle of a toilet brush firmly shoved up yourself while you watch for toilet users who come in and dispose of their wastes.

If they used a toilet and you detect that they took a dump, you hurry over when no-ones around, lock the door behind you and eat every last bit of their shit, while it’s fresh and yummy tasting, clean the water with your tongue because they probably had a piss at the same time, then hurry back to your home when no-one’s about.

At the end of a long day of shit-eating, when the gate is locked, you clean the urinals carefully with your mouth, lapping up whatever foul liquids you find, before returning to your home and fucking your lover until morning.

Remembering, of course, to rise off him every time you feel excited enough to have an orgasm. Oh and I forgot to mention that you must clean the handle of the toilet brush with your tongue when you have finished with it for the night.

And don’t forget to alternate each day between your cunt and your anus, one whole day of having it up your cunt, the next up your ass. That includes during your allowed sex time, cunt-fucking one night, ass-fucking the next. That’s why you may need to lick your shit off it sometimes.

Talking of YOUR shit, I almost forgot! This is a Gentleman’s toilets, not a Lady’s one. You cannot use the toilets yourself, silly.

Samantha, if you need to take a dump or have a piss, you do it on the floor of your cupboard, and eat or lick it all up afterwards.

Well, I think that’s all. There’s very sophisticated hidden camera’s around the room and looking up from below the toilet bowls, so I’ll get to see all the fun.

Remember to vary your eating habits too, eat some turds slowly, chewing them over long amounts of time; wolf some down, especially the big ones; nibble others, suck them and play with them in your mouth. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to condition you so that you like eating shit, so you’ll be utterly revolted and disgusted every time you take a turd in your mouth, but hell- it’ll be fun!

Watching you always, Dean

P.S. I left you a special present in the middle toilet, I know you don’t believe any of this could actually work yet, so go and take a look. It’s an instruction so you can’t do otherwise anyway. There aren’t all that many nutrients available in human waste I’m afraid, so we may need to provide you with proper food eventually. And you better hope no-one comes in feeling sick, because you’ll be licking that up too. Have fun, Sammy! And thanks for the fuck the other night!”

The first thing that Samantha felt was sadness, not for her situation or the implications, but for herself. She had loved him, cared deeply for him, but now he had done all of this.

Why?

She found herself already standing over the middle toilet. She looked down and saw a disgusting swirl of brown logs and discoloured filthy-looking water. She had nudged the door closed behind her and pulled the lock across with her teeth when she found herself dropping to her knees on the hard tiles and putting her head over the toilet bowl.

The smell drifted up from below, foul and pungent, and it made her feel sick almost instantly. Her arms struggled hopelessly against her restraints and the force that seemed to be lowering her head deeper into the toilet. Her long ginger hair reached the waterline first and played upon the surface until her mouth was finally within tongue distance of a large, fresh piece of shit.

Samantha felt her stomach twist, but the realisation that everything in the letter would actually come true made her feel more sick than the fact that the tender lips that he so adored were opening around the turd closed to her.

Her perfect teeth felt the edges of it and pulled it quickly up into her waiting mouth. She wanted so badly to spit it out; to force her head up out of the toilet; to have her arms unrestrained; but she got none of her wishes as she slowly chewed the disgusting piece of human waste before swallowing small parts, bit by bit. Her stomach reluctantly accepted that which was offered but Samantha felt so revolted that she nearly fainted.

The small camera above recorded beautiful Samantha as she kneeled there in front of the toilet, with her head and her hair deep inside the basin itself. It watched on as two finely curved arms lay tightly secured behind her back.

Somewhere, many miles away, someone watched carefully as the ginger-haired lawyer bobbed her head up and down, nibbling on another fresh piece of shit. How easily her elegance had been removed, just like her clothes. From this vantage point it looked just like some kinky slut who liked to do filthy things. He would of course be selling some of this video footage to any prospective buyers under such a heading.

Samantha remained hunched over the basin for another forty minutes, and afterwards it was hard to believe there had ever been anything in there. Her face looked pale and had smudges of brown around her mouth when she finally lifted her head and unlocked the door.

She went over to the small cupboard, turned the handle with her teeth and ducked inside. As she pulled the door closed, darkness filled the room; save for a thin beam of light coming from the room outside by means of a small peep hole.

Dean laughed as he watched her discover the toilet brush, but he couldn’t help feeling excited as she opened her legs around it and stooped down. The rough handle slipped inside her exposed cunt and it wedged in further as she uncomfortably stooped lower and lower.

Before long, Samantha had lowered herself down the entire handle and now her clit rubbed teasingly against the prickles of the brush buried in the fixed base unit. Her face bore an unmistakable expression of pleasure and desire, but she made absolutely no sound at all. The instructions of the letter were completely in her mind as she began fucking the handle, lifting almost completely off it before dropping back down as far as the base again.

The multi-millionaire observed her face closely while she fucked her new lover and he found his erotic picture had finally been painted. Sophisticated, clever and very sensible, Samantha was the perfect choice for such a degrading experience. Moments ago she had cleaned out the entire contents of a shit-filled toilet using only her mouth and now he watched fascinated as she hung above the handle of a toilet brush, denying herself a powerful orgasm, lifting her head in desperation, mouth wide but wordless, simply because he had instructed it.

Samantha felt the need to cum slowly fade away, but it took a few minutes before it completely evaporated and she fell back into a steady rhythm on the handle again.

The darkness and her restrained state only served to heighten the sensations that welled between her legs and she soon felt close to an orgasm again. The disappointment was clearly on her face when, once again, she lifted off the handle and waited for the feeling to pass.

All night long Samantha rode the toilet brush, and countless times she was required to stop while a force she didn’t understand deliberately and persistently taunted her in the worst possible way; when it denied her any real satisfaction from this nightmare situation.

Each time, after the orgasm faded, she would fall back into the same slow, steady movement: lifting high and plummeting down while sweat poured off her exhausted figure. Warm water pipes travelled along one wall of the cupboard, serving as a makeshift radiator. The heat in the small compartment was unbearable enough without the intensity of her tiring and fruitless self-masturbation.

As a final touch of torment, Dean had chosen to have Samantha’s arms tied behind her back for a greater purpose than merely making opening or closing doors and turning handles difficult. From their single night of passion, a by-the-book evening of sex, he wickedly knew how much she liked to touch herself when penetrated.

Her hands, he fondly remembered, loved to massage her beautiful 38D-sized breasts. In fact; she squeezed, twisted and pulled at them the whole time.

Samantha’s nipples had been screaming out for attention all night as she rode the toilet brush, and Dean felt immensely powerful watching them, hard as they were, neglected and pleadingly desperate for her gentle touch to calm them.

Morning appeared abruptly as the night retreated, but Samantha was only truly aware of the change when she involuntarily dismounted the handle, turned and bent down to lick the rough plastic surface clean.

There was little to wipe away but her tongue carefully played along the whole length, slow and precise, unknowingly preparing her partner for a long day as the instrument of her own sexual torture.

Her heightened senses caught the sound of the padlock being unlocked, followed by a long creak as the gate swung slowly open. Perhaps deliberately, the inward-opening gate completely covered the letter detailing her instructions when it was opened wide and pressed to the tiled wall.

Those words haunted her now as she perched over the handle and lowered herself carefully down to its prickly base once again. Her knees bent to accommodate the awkward position as they had the previous night, but this time there was no movement.

Sam lifted her head in frustration and let out a silent moan of agony as she realised that she was expected to remain in this position all day long. As her exhausted legs weakened she fell onto the bristling head of the brush and felt intense pain between her legs as it dug agonizingly into her cunt lips and clit. It took a moment to find the strength in her limbs to rise up slightly, but she quickly discovered how hard it was to maintain.

A twisted part of her mind was crying out for someone to hurry up and use the toilet so that she could leave this sadistic torture behind for at least a little while. A conflict appeared when she found herself longing to kneel before a toilet rather than endure this any longer, and she disgustingly realised she would be merely trading one torture for another.

Little did she know that Dean had organised it that way from the start. Soon she would almost crave the chance to eat shit rather than sit on that brush handle, trying to hold her body up without the assistance of her arms.

It was erotic torture of the cruellest kind, especially since her escape through the open gate might as well be a million miles away after the mind conditioning. But it would always be there when she looked out her peep-hole; a toilet brush stuck up her vagina; tied and naked in a filthy men’s toilet; with the exit to her nightmare only a few metres away.

As if answering her irrational prayer, she watched intently while a scruffy middle-aged man entered the toilet. His heavy booted feet made loud echoes in the small enclosure, and Samantha felt a sudden fear of discovery which somehow made her nipples harden in the sweltering cupboard. The man entered one of the toilets and proceeded to perform the deed.

Sam’s breathing rate soared, silent as it was, but she could do nothing except listen as he disposed of his wastes slowly. Her legs cramped and she fell hard onto the bristles. Screams would have filled the room if she had been able, and her desperation to remove the intruding thistle-like strands turned quickly to panic, but her legs refused to support her weight and she was forced to endure the excruciating pain all around her sore and exposed cunt. The handle wedged deep in her hole and laid her wide open at the base where it widened in girth. The bristles seemed to be perfectly placed to viciously dig into the most sensitive of areas once the handle splayed her tender snatch wide open.

Samantha barely noticed the man attempt several times to flush the toilet before departing. Her legs were still cramped, but her mind helped her lift off the handle and push open the door. Hastily moving over to the toilet and fastening the door quickly, she practically fell to the floor before the basin.

Almost as if some perverted being were watching and enjoyed observing Sam’s agony, however, it seemed this was to be a quick meal. She wasn’t even to have the relief of being off the handle for long.

Samantha dug her head into the toilet bowl and scooped up a disgusting piece of shit into her mouth. Quickly, she was forced to swallow it before claiming another chunk in her revolted jaws. Again it was swallowed whole.

So beautiful to look at, Samantha was the sort of girl who didn’t reap attention from men or dress provocatively, but merely displayed natural beauty; something that was commonly ignored in this modern world. How fantastic it was to watch such a young lady take large pieces of shit between her kissable lips and swallow them whole like it was something she did every day. Even more adorable were her desperate blue eyes, usually so calm and controlling; now lost and pleading for escape and relief. It was also fun to watch those erect nipples that would continue to cry out for their owner’s fragile hands until they got what they wanted.

It took only five minutes to completely clear the basin of the scruffy mans’ wastes. Even as the disgusting act repeated in Samantha’s mind sickeningly, the horror of the sexual torture waiting for her in the cupboard brought tears to her eyes.

Barely a minute later she was carefully mounted on the handle, peering through the hole that served as her only source of light, and trying hard not to let her legs give way as they had before.

She would never have imagined having the thick handle of a toilet brush fixed deep into her cunt; imposing and unmoving; could be such a huge turn-on. Those hard nipples continued to ache, pointing out stiffly at the summit of her firm, but slightly drooping breasts.

The desperation of her entire situation finally found its way to her mind. The impossibility of escape had already been proven, and the mind control was evidently very real, despite her reluctance to accept it.

How long would she be here? How long would he force her to endure?

Dean barely left his observation room for a moment during the course of that day. He loved every element of Sam’s torture and took great pleasure from watching her body perform acts that further tormented her mind.

He knew it would be a few days before she remembered her profession; that of an able lawyer; and try to find anything ambiguous in his instructions—to perhaps escape her torment with a little fancy word manipulation as lawyers so often resort to. Whether there was anything or not, he would leave for her to discover.

Forty-seven times he had watched his ginger-haired beauty scurry over to one of the toilet-blocks before proceeding to devour the filthy contents of the small bowl and returning reluctantly to her lover in the cupboard.

That same lover continued to taunt her all day long, distracting Samantha from any sane thoughts while it teased her pussy unceasingly. Those super-human nipples stayed hard all the while, and the temperature of the small space only seemed to get higher and higher as the day went by. Sweat literally poured down Sam’s sexy body, and her long hair; usually free and full of life; now fell straight down her back and over her shoulders, damp and sticky.

He watched now, himself tired and hungry, as she stood over the wall-mounted urinals and dug her tongue deep into the cracks of the blocked drain set in the base of the unit. She reluctantly took every care to lick the whole apparatus from top to bottom, each one taking nearly an hour to clean completely. How he loved watching her delicate tongue carefully lick across the entire piss-covered surface before lapping up entire pints of assorted golden piss pooled in the bottom of the units like a thirsty cat. Her facial expression remained one of disgust the entire time.

A long while later, she returned to her cupboard and took a pee on the floor. It burned as it poured out, sore as she was. Going down on her knees, Samantha lowered her lips to the ground and slowly licked up her own warm wastes from the floor of the small room.

After submitting herself to a sadistic routine; eating countless piles of fresh shit only seconds after it’s depositing in the toilets; licking up endless amounts of strangers’ piss and now lapping up her own foul juices; Samantha still felt unprepared for her second night of fucking the toilet brush. It was amazing that such an inanimate object could bring such pain to her, both physically and mentally.

Dean was already lay awake in his master bedroom; the night-vision cameras’ viewing every angle within the cupboard and transmitting it all to his huge private monitors before the huge bed; when Samantha mounted the brush and slowly thrust up and down the shaft while silent groans of pleasure left her open lips.

He came under the sheets just as she was forced to wait for her own feelings to subside, stood frustratingly above the handle as her orgasm faded to nothing. He laughed at the irony of that, himself free to masturbate at will while she was denied what he now took for granted.

With that thought in mind, he made himself come several more times; each time peaking when she would have, had she been allowed.

‘I did say we’d have fun didn’t I, Sammy?’ he laughed as he pulled the quilt over his head and fell quickly to sleep.

On the huge monitors before him, Samantha’s shameful sexual torture played out all night long, unwatched and unnoticed, like the abundant live entertainment that she had now unwillingly become.