The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Obey

The word flashed in front of Leah’s eyes. She tried looking away but it didn’t help. Even if she thrashed her head the word stayed right in the middle of her view.

It was too hard to thrash her head. She was too tired.

She couldn’t remember if it was the first time she’d seen the word. Or the tenth. Or the thousandth. It couldn’t be the first, or she wouldn’t have known that thrashing her head was useless. But she couldn’t remember.

The word was so familiar though. Large, shining, letters, floating in the middle of her view. Not quite white. There were subtly shifting colours in the pale shapes. Colours that drew her view. Made her look at the word. Intricate patterns that went on and on and on. Until she was lost and the word was the only thing there was and she had to keep reading it over and over and over again.

The word went away.

Another took its place.

Slave

Leah thought she’d seen that word before as well. But she couldn’t remember that either. It was so hard to remember anything. The letters hung there in the darkness. The word was all she had. Burning into her mind. Just like the other word. The colours were there in this word as well. And the patterns. Holding her attention. Demanding it. She had to read the word. Again and again and again.

Slave

Slave

Slave

Leah tried to think of something else. She could remember walking. She wasn’t sure where she’d been walking. To home? From home? She must have had a home. Mustn’t she? Everyone had a home. Why couldn’t she remember hers? No images came to her mind. No address. Nothing. She had to remember her home.

But it was so hard to remember. So hard to think. So hard to do anything but read the word.

Slave

Leah didn’t want to be a slave. She was sure of that.

Serve

The words were almost all she had. Apart from the voice.

“I’m here to help you,” the voice whispered.

Leah knew the voice wasn’t a recording. At least she didn’t think it was. It didn’t sound exactly the same each time she heard it. Even if someone says something to you they’ve said before the pace and intonation will be slightly different. So Leah thought the voice wasn’t a recording. But it was so hard to remember. Maybe this was the first time she’d heard the voice. But if she hadn’t heard the voice before how did she know it was different each time?

“I’m going to help you get out of this.”

It was a woman’s voice. Leah was sure of that. But it never gave itself a name.

“You have to trust me.”

Leah didn’t know whether she could trust the voice. It was so hard to know anything. With the words burrowing into her mind and it was so hard to think and she was so lost.

“I’ll keep you safe.”

The voice kept promising her things, just like that. Leah didn’t know whether to believe the voice. But the voice was all she had to believe in. She could hardly move. Something was holding down her wrists and ankles. Pinning her throat. Tight across her waist. There was something in her mouth, large and round and forcing her jaws apart. She didn’t know how long she’d been there. Minutes. Hours. Days.

It was so hard to think.

“That’ll be the drugs,” the voice said.

They’re drugging me?

“I’ve told you that before, but you probably don’t remember. Pumping drugs into you. Can’t you feel the IV in your arm? Making it hard for you to think. Making you forget.”

Leah could feel something in her left arm now. She could picture a needle, piercing her skin. Drugs seeping into her system. Seeping into her brain. Making it hard for her to think. Making her forget. Making her read the words.

Making her a slave.

Even drugged as she was, Leah knew what the words meant.

“Trust me,” the voice said. “I’ll get you out of this.”

The voice went away.

The words didn’t. Leah had to read the words.

Obey

Slave

Serve

Leah was naked. She was sure of that. She probably hadn’t been naked when she was brought here. Wherever here was. If she’d been walking she couldn’t have been naked. Could she? But she was naked now. All she could feel were the straps holding her down, the gag in her mouth and the hard surface she was lying on. And the other things.

Like the thing in her pussy. That was long and hard and filled her up so much she thought she would burst. That made her feel so good. Something on her clit. There were things on her nipples as well. That were hard and tight, just this side of painful. Sometimes the things just sat there. Even then, Leah was aware of them. How could she not be? She couldn’t remember them being placed on her. They couldn’t have always been there. Even if her failing memory made it feel like they had been. Had she been awake when the things on her nipples had been attached? When something had been placed on her clit? When the intruder had been thrust into her centre? How could she have forgotten something like that?

Or had she been unconscious? Awoken to find them there? If that’s what had happened she’d forgotten that as well.

Sometimes they came alive. Then Leah would writhe in her bonds, straining against them, sweat dripping off her body, every muscle so tense, her hips trying to hump against the intruder as she moaned around her gag. Until she’d flop back onto whatever she was tied to and it would all start again, pleasure spilling through her as she read the words.

Obey Heat and need radiating out from her pussy in time with the vibrations, her clit singing, fists clenched as she pulled at her bonds.

Slave Pleasure shooting up her spine, merging with the sensations from her nipples, her breasts aching with need, aching to be touched, her orgasm rushing at her as her hips thrust upwards.

Serve Her body thumping against the table in the small amount of movement the bonds gave her, straining up, wanting more. Bliss exploding in her brain as she came.

Leah didn’t know how many times she’d cum. Had she been embarrassed the first time? Ashamed at responding in that way to the abuse she was suffering? If she had, she couldn’t remember.

Obey

Time passed. Leah didn’t know how long. She thought she might have fallen unconscious but she wasn’t sure.

The words weren’t the only things she was shown.

There were images. Videos. Recordings. Something. Of a woman. Slim, young, pretty, brunette hair.

Isn’t that what I look like? Leah thought it was, but it was so hard to remember.

The woman was always naked.

Like her.

“Kneel.”

Leah wasn’t sure where the sound came from. It wasn’t the voice. It was all around her.

The brunette woman knelt. The woman always did what she was told. When she did the vibrator in Leah’s pussy and the things on her nipples and clit would come alive, the pleasure threatening to engulf her. Rising, forcing her to respond, her body betraying her. Pussy dripping with need, gripping on to the vibrator, the sensations from her clit blasting through her mind. Until she came, screaming into her gag.

The image played again.

“Kneel.” The woman knelt. Over and over again, the word, the image, the sensations rushing through Leah. Becoming one.

“Present.” The brunette woman, who looked so much like Leah thought she did, placed her fingers behind her neck, spread her knees and thrust her chest forward.

The vibrations increased.

“Abase.” The brunette leaned forward until her forehead touched the floor, her arms spread out on either side and her arse thrust up in the air.

Leah came. Again. She didn’t scream this time. She was too exhausted. The waves rushing over her, leaving her limp and spent. She always came at that last command.

She didn’t have any choice.

She didn’t have any choice but to watch the sequence over and over again, cumming every time, so exhausted that only the least thrust of her hips gave her away.

“What’s your name?” the voice asked. The images had gone. Leah didn’t know how much later it was. She was so tired. She could feel something moving across her skin, a piece of cloth, cleaning her. It was so gentle. She was so grateful.

Leah was sure the speaker’s lips were only inches from her ears. She turned her head, hoping to catch a glimpse of the voice’s owner. But all she could see was darkness. She wasn’t sure whether there was no light in the room or if something was covering her eyes.

“What’s your name?” the voice repeated, the cloth softly rubbing over her stomach, carefully moving lower, avoiding her centre. Leah wasn’t sure whether to happy or sad about that. Sliding down her leg. It felt so good to be clean.

Leah realised that the gag had been removed from her mouth.

“Leah Donnelly,” she replied, her voice hoarse from disuse. She could remember her name. But if she had a name that meant she had to have a family. Why couldn’t she remember them?

“That’s good,” the voice said, the cloth slowly slipping up Leah’s other leg, caressing her inner thigh. “I’ll get you out of this.”

Tears rolled down Leah’s cheeks. She needed the voice. It was all she had.

“Sorry, but I have to put your gag back in. It’s something they’d notice.”

Leah could understand that. And even if she didn’t, there was no way she could resist.

The cloth gently wiped her tears away.

The words played over and over in front of her. And more images. Of the brunette woman. Sometimes the woman was on her knees. Sometimes on her back. Sometimes on her stomach. The woman would always do what she was told. She was always naked.

“Lick this pussy.” There was another woman in the images now but Leah couldn’t see much of her. Just that she was naked too, her pussy displayed before the brunette. The brunette leaned in to the other woman. Leah could imagine what the brunette was doing.

With the vibrators roaring to life it wasn’t hard. Her nipples ached under the vibrations. She couldn’t breathe, the sensations from her clit too much. She had to cum. She strained, trying to force the vibrator deeper into her centre. Just a little more. It was all she needed. Almost there.

Leah came. Over and over. Until she was lying there, the images playing before her and she was cumming without moving, without making a sound.

She fell unconscious again.

The voice was whispering to her when she awoke. “I’ll help you Leah, but you have to trust me.”

She had to hope the voice was telling her the truth.

“There’s so many drugs in your system. It’s what keeps knocking you out. Making you cum. Making you forget. They’re designed to make you believe what you see and hear.”

Leah didn’t like the sound of that. She knew what the words and images were trying to get her to believe.

“You have to trust me.”

Leah wanted to believe that.

There was a hand on her arm. The human contact was something to hold on to. Something real. Leah was sure the hand belonged to the same person as the voice. Not even the cloth was in the way this time. She felt clean. Maybe the owner of the voice had cleaned her while she slept.

“I have to change your IV now,” the voice said. “I’m sorry. I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can.”

Leah wondered if the owner of the voice had been through what she was going through now. Maybe whoever ran this place thought the woman was a slave. She must have been so strong to resist. So strong to stay true to herself. So good to try to help Leah and not just run away.

Maybe she could trust the voice.

The hand slid down her arm. The touch felt so good. So real. Not like the vibrators. They were just machines. This was an actual person. Someone who was trying to help her. The hand didn’t touch her anywhere private. Leah wasn’t sure she’d have minded if it did. It might have driven away the memories of the vibrators. She could feel her hair being stroked. Like a mother might do to a sick child. It felt so good. So comforting.

More tears fell from Leah’s eyes.

Someone gently brushed them away.

Leah wanted that hand to keep stroking her hair forever. Then there’d be no more words, no more images, no more orders. The vibrators wouldn’t assault her again. She could just drift in the touch of that hand.

“You believe I’m trying to help you don’t you?” the voice asked.

Leah nodded.

She felt the gag being removed.

“What’s your name?” the voice asked.

“Leah,” Leah replied. Then frowned. She thought she’d said something more the last time the voice had asked her that. That there’d been more to her name. More to her. But it was so hard to remember.

“That’s good. Just hang on a little longer. I’ll have you out of here. Then you’ll be safe.”

Leah relaxed. The voice would protect her. Make sure she was safe. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t remember any more of her name.

The voice would take care of her.

“I’m sorry, but I have to put the gag back on. You understand.”

Leah did. Whoever held them prisoner would notice if her gag was missing. The owner of the voice had to put Leah’s gag back on. Leah didn’t want it, but it was the way it had to be.

And maybe it was okay if it was the owner of the voice doing it.

Leah was happy when the hand went back to stroking her hair. The voice’s other hand rested lightly on Leah’s left shoulder. Then the owner of the voice stroked Leah’s cheek. Leah wanted so much to see who the owner of the voice was. Leah owed her so much. If it wasn’t for her Leah would have broken into pieces.

She cried when the owner of the voice went away.

She cried more when the images came back.

Not all those tears were sad.

Slave

The woman in the images was a slave. Leah understood that now.

“Spread your legs.” The brunette spread her legs and let herself be fingered by the other woman.

“Bend over.” The other woman was wearing a strap-on. The brunette would bend over and let herself be fucked.

At times like that the intruder in Leah’s pussy would come alive, vibrating so hard Leah felt like it would tear her apart. The things on her nipples and clit vibrated as well, the pleasure blasting what few thoughts she had left. She hardly had the energy to move any more.

“Cum.” The brunette would cum.

Leah would as well. She wasn’t given any choice.

“Do you trust me?” the voice asked.

Leah trusted the voice. She didn’t have any choice. The voice was the only hope she had. The only way to escape the cycle of words and images.

She nodded. She was clean again. She was always clean and safe when the voice spoke to her. The voice would take care of her. The voice would save her.

The hand was stroking her hair again. Leah expected the hand to disappear. But it didn’t. It didn’t even disappear when the words came back.

Obey

The hand was stoking her hair, the other hand stroking her cheek as the vibrators sprang to life, the pleasure radiating through Leah’s body. She wanted the hand to touch her. Touch her breasts.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Leah nodded.

Obey

The stroking felt so good, tingles radiating down to Leah’s toes. All she was was need and the voice and the words.

“I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Leah believed that.

Slave

The wonderful sensation of those hands mixed with the pleasure from the vibrators. Leah could imagine the owner of the voice touching her in other places. She wanted the touch of those hands so much. But she didn’t want the voice to know what she was thinking. The voice was trying to help her. Leah didn’t want its owner to think of her as someone who just came and came and came.

“As long as you trust me.”

Leah trusted the voice.

Serve

The hand kept stroking her hair as the vibrations reached a fever pitch. As she came, raw ecstasy crashing through her body, Leah made sure that she didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

The words started up again. The hands kept stroking her. Leah stayed almost perfectly still, just the odd moan and slight quiver. As she came, over and over.

Leah cried when the hands went away.

That didn’t stop her reading the words.

Slave

“Eat my pussy slave.”

Leah watched as the brunette woman dove in, a hungry light in her eyes. Leah could understand that. She needed the voice like the woman in the image needed her mistress. The other woman in the images was the brunette’s mistress. Leah didn’t have to think very hard to understand that. It was made very clear.

“You obey your Mistress,” the other woman declared. Leah could see her now. She was raven-haired and beautiful.

“I obey my Mistress,” the brunette answered, on her knees.

“Present,” the brunette’s mistress ordered. The brunette complied immediately. Leah could understand that. The brunette was a slave. Slaves obeyed.

“I own you,” the brunette’s mistress declared.

“You own me,” the brunette replied.

“Abase,” the mistress ordered.

The brunette obeyed, her head falling to the floor. She always obeyed.

Leah came every time the brunette obeyed.

It didn’t need the vibrators to make that happen anymore. It was simply a reflex. Leah wondered when that had started. She couldn’t remember.

“You’re a slave,” the brunette’s mistress said.

“I’m a slave,” the brunette acknowledged.

Leah wasn’t sure, because the brunette was still face down on the ground, but from the quiver that went through the woman’s body it looked like the brunette was far from unhappy with her situation.

“Whose slave are you?” the brunette’s mistress asked.

“Your slave,” the brunette answered.

“Cum for me slave.”

The brunette came. It wasn’t obvious, but Leah knew.

Leah came as well. She wondered if anyone watching her would have noticed.

She couldn’t remember how many times that had happened. But it had to be a lot. She came so easily when the brunette did. Whenever the brunette obeyed her mistress. Leah could tell when the brunette came. When she could see the brunette’s face it was so easy, the woman’s lips parting, just slightly, and her eyelids fluttering. Even when she couldn’t see the brunette’s face Leah knew. From the oh-so-slight quiver that went through her. From the small sounds that she made. Even when there were no signs at all she knew when the brunette came.

Leah knew that was how she had to cum.

It felt so good to cum.

Leah wondered if cumming had always felt so good. She couldn’t remember. It was so hard to remember anything. Just the words and the images and the voice.

“Do you trust me?” the voice asked.

Leah nodded. Of course she trusted the voice. She had to do. She didn’t have anyone else.

“If I’m going to get you out of here you’re going to need to do what I say.”

Leah understood that. The owner of the voice had to have a plan. She must have. She’d spoken to Leah so often. Or at least Leah thought she had. It was so hard to remember. But she trusted the voice. Of course she trusted the voice. Those hands made her feel so good when they stroked her hair. When they stroked her breasts.

The hands were stroking her breasts now.

Leah wasn’t sure when that had started. She couldn’t remember but it felt so good. She didn’t want it to stop. Maybe if the hands kept stroking her breasts she’d cum.

Maybe, if she did cum, the owner of the voice wouldn’t notice.

Leah was always so still now when she came.

“Will you do what I say?” the voice asked.

Leah nodded again.

“I’m going to remove your gag in a moment,” the voice said. “And then I’m going to ask you a question. You need to answer the question correctly before I can get you out of this.”

Leah would answer the question. If she could. It was so hard to think. With the way her breasts were being stroked and the vibrators were assaulting her and her brain was so cloudy. But she trusted the voice. If it wanted her to answer a question, she would.

Leah’s gag was removed.

“What’s your name?” the voice asked.

That was easy. Leah knew her name. If that was what the voice wanted she could answer that. “Leah,” she replied.

“That’s not all there is to your name,” the voice said. The voice sounded so disappointed. Like a teacher admonishing a student. Like a mother despairing over a child. Leah couldn’t bear to disappoint the voice. “Do you know what’s missing?” the voice asked.

Leah wanted to answer. She knew there’d been more to her name. Hadn’t she told the voice that sometime? Leah thought she had. Maybe. But the memory fled away.

“Do you want me to tell you your name?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” Leah replied. She needed to know her name. She needed anything the voice wanted to tell her.

“Your name is Slave Leah,” the voice declared.

Leah’s eyes went wide. For a moment, just a moment, she doubted what the voice said. But she trusted the voice. The voice would keep her safe. So her name was Slave Leah.

“You’re a slave,” the voice said.

“I’m a slave,” Slave Leah replied. She wasn’t Leah anymore. She had a proper name. She was Slave Leah. She was a slave.

Just like the brunette in the images.

“Who do you obey?” the voice asked.

Slave Leah thought she knew the answer to that as well but something stopped her answering. She could feel the voice’s hands on her head. But they weren’t stroking her hair. She wasn’t sure what they were doing. Then something dropped away from her eyes.

And Slave Leah could see.

Standing in front of her was a beautiful woman. A beautiful, raven-haired, woman.

Slave Leah knew the answer now.

“You,” she said, tears of joy running down her face.

“I promised I’d get you out of here,” the raven-haired woman said, reaching for the first of the straps that held Leah down. “You trust me don’t you?”

“Yes,” Slave Leah replied. The voice, the woman, hadn’t lied to her. Slave Leah knew she never would.

Her bonds were soon released, the things on her nipples and clit removed, the intruder in her pussy withdrawn, Slave Leah rising shakily form the table to which she’d been strapped. She could see the IV that had fed the drugs into her system, see the small bandage on her arm.

“Kneel,” the raven-haired woman said.

Slave Leah obeyed. She was so close to cumming.

“Present.”

Slave Leah’s hands flew to the back of her neck, her knees spreading as her chest thrust forward. Her body was singing. She was so close. She could almost taste it. But she knew that she couldn’t show it.

“Abase.”

Slave Leah did as she was told. God, she wanted to cum, but she couldn’t not yet. In the future she would, at every order. But not now.

“Who owns you?” the woman asked.

“You do,” the newly-minted slave replied. She was safe. She was obeying. She’d get to cum soon.

“Whose slave are you?”

Slave Leah didn’t hesitate. Why would she? She’d learnt. From the words. From the images. From her trust in the voice. There was only one answer. “Yours.” The first time was going to be so special.

“Who is your Mistress?”

“You are.” She trusted her Mistress.

Slave Leah didn’t have to look up to know her owner was smiling.

“Cum for your Mistress slave.”

Slave Leah didn’t need words to obey that command. She came. And came. And came. She didn’t make a sound. She knew there was a slight quiver of her hips. Maybe someday she’d learn to control that.

But it didn’t matter. Her Mistress would tell her what to do. She was cumming for her Mistress.

Slave Leah knew it was only the first time of many.

(The End)