The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


by Adamant Phoenix ()

There was nothing special about the box. It was a plain, brown postal paper wrapped box, no bigger than a shirtbox. Amy brought it inside, wondering who could’ve sent it to her. It wasn’t her birthday—well, not yet anyways.

She set it on her desk and began looking over it. The surprise was the return address. England? It couldn’t be... There was no name, just an address, but only one person came to Amy’s mind.

Like a kid at Christmas, she hurriedly unwrapped the box. Amy squealed in delight when she say what was inside. Laying on a bed of soft tissue paper, was a bright red rugby jersey of the Welsh national team. There was definitely only one person whom it could be from.

Under the shirt, there was a note written in beautiful cursive. “Put this on, and think of me,” it simply said. Like the box, there was no name.

Amy did just that. She quickly pulled off her blouse and put the jersey on. As she was logging on to her computer, Amy felt her skin start to tingle. Where ever the jersey touched, she felt it. It was by no means an unpleasant sensation, and Amy found herself not wanting to take it off as the warmth spread through her body. Not knowing why, she sat back in her chair, allowing the feelings to course throughout her.

Just as the note instructed her, Amy’s mind rested on the person who sent her the shirt—the woman who went by the handle Technomancer. She opened her messenger, her eyes quickly glancing at the list of names.

By shear luck, she received a message from the one she was looking for, first.


Did you receive it?

Wyld Gryphon:

Yes, Mistress.

Mistress?! Amy thought. I didn’t just call her that. Did I?

Wyld Gryphon:

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to write that and make a joke of your question.


I’m sure you did. Do you have the shirt on?

Wyld Gryphon:

Yes, I do! I love it! Thank you so much!


Good girl.

At those two words, Amy felt her skin flush and her heart skip a beat. Her fingers were poised over the keys as she tried to come up with a suitable reply. Perhaps her friend was teasing her, she thought. They did that sometimes, tease one another, with Amy taking the submissive role. Was this one of those times?


What are you thinking of, pet?

In her mind, Amy’s first response was “you”, but she forced her fingers to stop. Instead, she sent back:

Wyld Gryphon:

How did you get my address?


You don’t remember? You sent it to me.

She did? She checked her sent items, and sure enough, it was in there, and Amy felt herself starting to blush in embarrassment.


What are you feeling now, pet.

It was uncanny at times, how it seemed as if her friend was able to read her thoughts.

Wyld Gryphon:

Slightly foolish. Embarrassed I forgot. How is it you seem to know what’s on my mind, or how I’m feeling?


Because, I know you, Amy. I know your hopes, your dreams, your most secret desires. You’ve told me much of these yourself. Should I have forgotten?

Wyld Gryphon:

No. Thanks for remembering. And the shirt.


You’re welcome, pet. I’m going to help you, Amy; help you realise them all.

The heat was creeping up Amy’s body, through her arms, and up her neck. Her head felt foggy, and her eyes, tired.

Wyld Gryphon:

Sorry. yawn I’m going to go lay down. Suddenly feeling very tired.


Poor, sleepy pet. Go. Sleep. I’ll still be here when you awake.

Amy left her computer running and went to lay down on her bed. That it was still mid-afternoon never occurred to her as she drifted off to sleep. Tired as she was, her sleep was neither sound, nor was it restless.

* * *

She dreamt. Of collars and leashes, whips and canes, rope and cuffs. She dreamt of being on her knees. She dreamt of sweet submission—erotic bliss as she gave herself completely over to another.

With a start, Amy woke up. The shadows were longer in her room, the afternoon sun creeping to twilight. It was then, she realised her hand was between her legs, trapped by her thighs, and she was still wearing the jersey she received in the mail. A low moan escaped Amy’s lips as her finger slid over her wet sex. The dream was still vivid in her mind, the lingering touch of warm, wet bliss.

For long minutes, Amy struggled to bring herself back to her erotic dreams. One image after another flashed before her eyes. Naked, on her knees, before booted feet. Amy’s fingers moved faster and faster, in and out of her dripping pussy, while the fingers of her other hand pinched her engorged clit hard. She moaned, grasping some of those same sensations; naked and bound, leather lashing at her bare skin.

She felt it growing closer and closer. It was within her grasp, but still elusive. Why could she not reach it? Why did she need it so much? Growling in frustration, Amy laid there, breathing heavily.

Weary her attempts didn’t bring fruition, Amy climbed out of bed. Still clothed only in the red jersey, she made her way back to her office, compelled by an unknown force to read her email. There was one from her friend. It read simply, Activate Stage 2.

Amy stared at it for a long moment, wondering what it meant. She was about to hit reply when her body erupted in burning heat and desire. Without warning, she felt her pussy tighten around an invisible invader that stroked her moist walls.

She could do nothing as she saw her hand reach for the mouse and bring up her messenger program. It seemed surreal, but Amy realised she was no longer in control of her body as she watched her fingers move over the keys.

Wyld Gryphon:

Awaiting command, Mistress.


Commence transformation.

Still completely unsure of what was happening to her, Amy could only stare at the screen. Her now unresponsive fingers moved of their own accord, bringing up and adjusting her webcam and microphone.


Beautiful, pet. It looks good on you.

A part of Amy thrilled in delight at the compliment, while another flushed in embarrassment.


You have questions. I can see it in your eyes. Ask them.

All of a sudden she was back in control of her hands. Her body was still firmly rooted to her seat, fully aroused. Her pussy still clenching rapidly.

Wyld Gryphon:



That shirt, sweetness. It does look good on you.


You can feel it, can’t you? The changes coursing through you. That fire, heat, burning desire. You need it, want it.

Wyld Gryphon:

Yes... Why can’t I...?


Take the shirt off, pet. Do what your body tells you.

Amy did as she was told, feeling her nipples harden even further in the cool air. Like a dream, she began to touch herself. With the fingers of her left hand, she began to pinch and pull at her nipples. Her right hand slowly slid over her thigh, to the juncture of her legs.

A small whimper escaped her lips as she slid her fingers into her burning cunt.

“Moan for me, pet.” Amy heard a soft command over her speakers. “Let me hear you.”

All she wanted to to was obey the command. Faster and faster, Amy slid her fingers in and out of her pussy, her thumb on her clit. Her soft whimpers grew louder and louder, giving voice to her growing need.

“Good girl. Now, twist your nipples,” came the command. “Harder. Show me how much you need it.”

Her face contorted in agony and desire, her back arched forward, pushing her reddened breasts towards the cam. The loud, wet sound of flesh striking flesh can be heard as she finger fucked herself harder and faster.

“So close, pet,” the voice crooned softly. “So close and you still can’t cum. Can you, pet?

“You know what you need to do, don’t you?”

“Please...” Amy whimpered pitiously. “I need...”

“Give yourself to me, Amy. Deep down, you know what to do.”

“Yes... Please...” Amy panted, still fingering herself vigorously. “Please let me cum.”

“Lower your hand and look at me, pet.” A woman’s face appeared on her monitor; soft eyes rimmed by a pair of glasses and flowing blond locks. “Look at me and say it, pet. My little bots will finish their work and your desires will be granted.

“Say it, Amy,” she purred.

Amy stared into the eyes of the friend she knew so well. “Please, Mistress, may I cum?”

“Yes, pet,” she smiled. “Cum for me.”

Amy’s world exploded in a flash of silvery lights as she came. Her body spasmed in orgasm, one climax after the other, over and over. Tingles and shocks spread throughout her skin as sweat became silver and change coursed through her.

It took several minutes before she passed out. Minutes she spent locked in fiercely shuddering ecstasy, while the nanites continued their work. All under the watchful eyes of her new Mistress.