The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mrs. Margaret Thatcher watched at the window as her husband drove off to work at 8:30am sharp, just as he did every day. Her wide smile faded as she turned back toward the house interior and resolved herself, ready to begin her own work. First steps were the dishes and the laundry, both tasks that took a shorter amount of time than they used to since the recent invention of the household dishwasher and improvements to the domestic washer and dryer units. Honestly, this time of industry and automation were making things harder for poor respectable housewives like Margaret. What was she to do all day if menial chores became almost second hand tasks requiring little thought or input? Sure she could get a job herself, this was 1963 after all, women workers was becoming more and more commonplace every day...but that seemed a little too extremist to Margaret still, she just didn’t think it was proper to leave a house unattended, and once Richard decided they should have a baby what would she do then?

Luckily, the solution to her problems, and indeed most of her girlfriends’ similar troubles came in the form of Magnavox’s 1961 U302 black and white 24 inch television set. Modern life gave a girl plenty of troubles, but it also provided some solutions as well. Margaret turned the knob on her Magnavox and let the picture begin to filter through, taking mere seconds to go from a blank gray screen to an audio visual advertisement for women’s “miniskirts.” Margaret scowled at the advertisement, clicking her tongue in crisp disapproval. Modern technology was such a marvel as it shot toward the stars, it was a shame fashion was turning downward toward the gutter.

Margaret smoothed out her fashionable, yet functional, pastel blue dress coming down to just above her knee cap and covering nearly all of her thighs. Commercials continued to play on the screen as Margaret watched, most advertising expensive new models of refrigerator or iron, or the latest in women’s fashion like the miniskirt commercial had done. It seemed like the television was appealing directly to her, telling her it knew all about her life and how to make everything easier, how to make everything better. Fanciful thinking of course, but it was strange that the commercials shown now didn’t seem to be things any man would need or have time for. The shows themselves even appeared to be soap operas, sitcoms and game shows designed with her interests in mind. The male leads, and she desperately hoped Richard didn’t find out about this, were very...easy to look at and think about...even when they weren’t on screen.

Margaret bit her lip, thinking about when she was a young girl and Elvis Presley would come on screen and sing, his eyes looking right at her, so close she could almost touch him. Of course, now that she was a grown woman she didn’t get doe eyed and warm whenever an attractive, talented man was in front of her. Singing and showing off his body...as though specifically for-

The loud buzz of the dryer shocked Margaret out of a daydream she didn’t know she’d sunk into. The signaling of the finish of her clothes put any further thoughts of attractive young rock stars out of her head. Yes, she still had chores to perform, the day was young yet, and clothes didn’t iron or fold themselves. Surely someone was working on a way to make exactly that happen, but Margaret would have to do for now. Luckily she was well practiced.

After doing the ironing and the folding Margaret decided to do the vacuuming and the dusting next. The television would have to wait, there were still many tasks to be done, and then she needed to be thinking about preparing a nice dinner for Richard when he came home. The man worked hard down at the office, he deserved to come home to freshly cooked food and a beaming, adoring wife. Margaret smiled, thinking of her darling Richard coming home and taking her into his arms. He was a wonderful man, she wouldn’t trade him for anyone, even Elvis Presley.

Of course, it wouldn’t do to start dinner too early, so Margaret had some more time to kill in front of the television. She turned the knob once more, smoothing her dress and sitting down on the couch to watch. Only, the screen didn’t seem to be powering on, it was black as pitch with a single white dot in the center. No sound other than a low pitched hum was being emitted from the speakers, even though the television was clearly on. Margaret sighed and began to stand, preparing to move over and adjust the television set, perhaps give it a good smack to knock some function into it.

“There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture.”

Margaret froze, looking a bit confused for a moment. The deep, baritone voice was coming directly from the television, almost as though he had read her mind... Suddenly Margaret relaxed back into the couch as realization poured over her like warm water in the bath. Of course, it was a gimmick, probably for a new television show. She just hoped it wouldn’t be yet another sci fi show. They seemed to be coming out all the time nowadays... Well, it probably wouldn’t last anyway. Margaret settled in and tried to watch, the white dot on the screen remained the only thing visible, however, so she just allowed her eyes to focus only on that.

“We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume.” Margaret reeled back slightly as the volume rose. “If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper.” The volume lowered and Margaret had to focus entirely on the television now to be sure she heard the voice, her attention narrowing as the dot expanded to create a line across the middle of her television set side to side, then another up and down.

“We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can make the image spin.” The white vertical line spun, breaking apart and mixing with the black background to create a swirling spiral on the screen. Margaret felt herself tense slightly as the optical illusion made her feel as though she were falling into the television...and then relax fully, slouching back into the soft couch as she adjusted to the new feeling, relaxing more as she fell deeper.

“For the next hour, sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your television set. There is no need to turn your television off. There is no need to adjust the channel. There is no need to look away. We are in control.” Margaret found herself wanting to nod along. Yes, the voice was in control, it had proven that quite well by now, so well in fact that her mind didn’t bother trying to resist, what was the point? They were in control...all she could do was sit quietly for the next hour as they controlled what she saw, and heard, and thought.

“We control your body. We can make you feel awake and alert.” Margaret sat up a little, suddenly feeling more energized, her eyes focusing even deeper into the spinning spiral whirling away on her television. “We can make you feel tired and sleepy.” Margaret collapsed back into her couch, eye lids drooping heavily as she continued to stare, a yawn cracking open her lips as she relaxed so much her limbs were starting to drift outward. Arms falling to her sides, sinking into the couch. Legs spreading apart further than she’d be comfortable with normally...but comfort was for those with control, like the Voice. She had no control, therefore she couldn’t be uncomfortable with anything the Voice told her.

“We control the audience. This transmission is for young women between the ages of 18 and 30. All others must leave the room and go to sleep for the next hour to forget what they’ve seen.” Margaret tried to nod her head again, but it was just too heavy to move. She stayed where she was, continuing to watch and listen and obey the Voice. She was 25 years old, this transmission was for her.

“We control your mind. We control your perceptions. We will make you submissive, obedient, a good girl.” Margaret’s mouth fell open as she relaxed fully and completely, the Voice taking complete control now. Her television, her body, and her mind were all under control, making her submissive, making her obedient, making her a good girl. “We control your sexual satisfaction. It has been far too long since you have been satisfied. You are aroused and needy for the pleasures we control. Your clothes come off easily and effortlessly when we are in control.” Margaret dropped her dress to the floor, not really understanding when she had taken it off, just understanding that the Voice was completely right. Richard was a good man, a great husband...but he was often gone for so long at work, and upon his arrival back home he would be so tired...too tired to give Margaret what she needed. It had been so long...and the Voice reminding her of this made her so wet.

“We control your fingers. We control all rewards for good girls. You are a good girl, stroke yourself, reward yourself for obeying our control.” Margaret moaned as her fingers slipped beneath bloomers, her body wet and ready to yield to the control being exerted so thoroughly over her body. Her fingers moved in a pattern that mirrored the swirling spiral on her television set. Her breathing became labored as the sensation of a swirling, spiral directly on her pussy melted into warm bliss that spread throughout her body. Expanding out from her hips, reaching all the way down to her toes, and up to the top of her head, all the while she continued to fall deeper and deeper into the black and white whirling screen, listening to the voice. Obeying their control, and feeling so good as a reward. “We control your pleasure, we can make your body more sensitive.”

“Oh!” Margaret gasped as the spiral sped up, whirling round faster than before, her fingers speeding up in kind and her pussy feeling better and better, more sensitive than before. The pleasure increased with the speed and Margaret felt her mind drifting away completely as she sat there, staring into the spiral open mouthed. Rubbing, rewarding herself, and listening to the voice, even as she stopped trying to make out the words...

An hour later Margaret got up from the couch...hmm was it always so damp? Well, no worries, Margaret would just make sure to clean that right up. She still had some time before needing to get dinner ready, and she wasn’t about to sit in front of the television all day like a vegetable, clothes needed to be pressed and ironed after all! She could stand while watching the television instead, like a good girl... Good woman, that is to say.

A quick baking soda bath later the couch was perfectly dry, no evidence of spills anywhere! Margaret smiled to herself at a doing such a good job, she really ought to have a reward for herself... She blushed at the first thought that came to mind, Richard really ought to get home soon, it wasn’t becoming of a husband to leave his wife needing...attention.

She set up her ironing board and began to drape clothes over it, ready to press them with the hot steamy iron and smooth out all those wrinkles. She licked her lips, imagining Richard doing something similar later tonight in their bed... Shaking her head Margaret silently chastised herself. She wasn’t some hormone bound teenager anymore, these were not thoughts that were proper in conducting a productive afternoon! Still, she hoped Richard wasn’t too tired after work today, there were a lot of...chores that needed a strong hand to be done.

Margaret found herself watching the television with a half interested mind, focusing primarily on the task at hand, secondarily on thoughts of...nightly activities, and lastly focusing on the television which was just sort of running in the background. It was another miniskirt commercial. Really those things were airing all the time nowadays. Surely they couldn’t be THAT popular...right? Margaret watched the pretty young women on the television, prancing around in those tight, tiny little skirts, showing off practically the entirety of their legs in the process.

‘Would Richard like to see me in one of those?’ Margaret blushed slightly as she stared, looking down at her pastel blue dress. It was very nice...very fashionable, but it hid more of her natural curves than it showed. It wasn’t tight like the dresses and skirts on the screen. Margaret set the iron down and stared at the screen, imagining, for some reason, a black and white spiral spinning around in the distance.

‘We control your fashion choices...’

“Hmm?” Margaret looked up, but saw no one else around. She could’ve sworn she heard a voice talking to her. Oh well, perhaps she’d go by the clothing store later and see what all the fuss was about with these miniskirts. Richard would certainly love to come home to that. Margaret smiled softly to herself, picking the iron back up and going back to work as the television aired another commercial, this one on a new line of makeup.

‘We control your standard of beauty...’

Perhaps she could make a day of it? New miniskirt, new makeup, and perhaps even...new underwear. They were coming out with some rather...colorful new designs, and Margaret had to admit they looked very...pretty. She should buy some and...ask Richard what he thought... Margaret licked her lips slowly, setting the iron down again and letting one hand roam up to her breast. Mmmm she was so...restless today. She needed Richard, needed to husband to come home and...tend to his wife. But he would be working for hours yet... Five more hours without the relief, the tending, that she needed...

‘We control your waking mind...’

That spiral was back...playing in the background of her television. It was the last thing Margaret needed to deal with. Her body was already burning up, the iron was making everything feel so hot! She turned the television off, tried to get her mind back on task...but the iron was so hot, and that spiral was still there, whenever she turned back to the television, spinning around and around, even though the device was off. It was like some kind of after image, barely there, but she could still see it...if she focused...if she watched...listened....

Margaret shook her head, listened? That was silly, how did one listen for an image? She needed to call someone. Needed someone to come out and fix her television, yes, that was the problem. Once she fixed that, everything else could be dealt with, the first step was calling the television repairman and getting him to come over.

Margaret reached for the phone and began to dial. Idly she wondered exactly when it was she memorized the television repairman’s phone number, but was quite glad that she did. It would save valuable minutes of fumbling through the phone book trying to device which was the correct service to call.

“Hello, Outer Limits Television Service, we control transmission so you don’t have to,” came a pleasant, masculine sounding voice.

Margaret blinked. Some was familiar about...well of course it was familiar! She dialed them by memory didn’t she? She probably used this service many times. “Yes, my name is Margaret Thatcher, I’m calling about a problem with my television set.”

“Margaret Thatcher. May I ask your age Ms. Thatcher?”

Margaret frowned a bit, that was a bit personal...but perhaps they had a good reason for it? They were the ones she needed to control her transmission, so they’d know better than she what information was relevant. “Mrs. Thatcher, and I’m 25.”

“Mrs. Thatcher, my apologies ma’am. Is your husband home?”

“No, he won’t be home for at least 5 more hours.”

“I see, why don’t you tell me what the trouble is Mrs. Thatcher?”

“Well it’s my television set, it keeps showing this...image in the background that won’t go away, even when I turn my set off,” Margaret explained, looking at her television to ensure that, indeed, it was still there, swirling away.

“And what image would that be ma’am?”

“It looks like...a spiral, I suppose?”

“I see...” the man said, going quiet for a moment, presumably to write something down. “And are you watching the spiral now?”

“Yes...” she replied, watching the spiral spin and twirl in her television, much like how she would watch spots dance in front of her eyes after looking into a light bulb for too long.

“Very good Mrs. Thatcher, please turn your television set to channel 555. It’s a special channel we use to diagnose things like this for you.” Margaret nodded her head and flipped to channel 555, the television showing nothing except static.

“There’s nothing there,” Margaret said, frowning in confusion.

“Give it a minute Mrs. Thatcher, just relax, try to find the spiral again while you wait,” the voice replied, almost...soothingly. Margaret found herself responding, relaxing and searching the sea of static for the spiral, now much more difficult to spot with black and white static disrupting everything. However, if Margaret relaxed herself, stopped trying to search for the spiral, and instead just stared at the screen the spiral would come to her, spinning around and around in the background of whatever spot she chose to focus her gaze upon.

The static disappeared as the suddenly screen went black except for a single white dot and Margaret blinked at the abruptness of the change. “Oh... The screen just went black!” Margaret reported, beginning to move toward the television.

“No need to worry Mrs. Thatcher, this is all exactly what is supposed to happen. Do not attempt to adjust the picture.” Margaret froze in mid step, something familiar ringing in the man’s words... “Please sit on the couch and watch the television carefully. Tell us if you see the spiral. Just relax, and don’t worry about a thing, we are controlling transmission.”

“You are in control....” Margaret said as the white dot on the screen became a horizontal line...then a vertical line. Margaret’s stomach fluttered as she settled back onto the couch, anticipating...something. She didn’t know what it could be, but it was as though her body was trying to tell her something, something important. Then the vertical line began to spin, and the spiral, no longer an afterimage but a fully formed image on Margaret’s television dominated her living room, and her gaze. “The spiral...”

“That’s exactly right Mrs. Thatcher. We control the spiral. You don’t have to concern yourself with it, or even remember it exists after this phone call is over. We will control all that you see and hear and all you have to do is...”

“Sit quietly...” Margaret replied, finding the right words from somewhere deep in her subconscious.

“Very good Mrs. Thatcher, please keep the phone held securely next to your ear and mouth while we continue to help you with your problem. Please, describe your problem for me one more time...”

“The...spiral...”

“No Mrs. Thatcher. We control the spiral. The spiral isn’t a problem for you because we are in control.”

“You are in control.”

“You won’t even remember the spiral after you hang up the phone. So, what is the real problem Mrs. Thatcher? What is it that you need the most right now?” the man asked, his words slipping inside Margaret’s mind so incredibly easily with that spiral twisting it round and around, opening it up for anyone to adjust and tune. Margaret thought back to when she was making the phone call...what had her biggest problem been? She remembered trying to iron clothes, but she was so distracted. The heat was making her body flush... The spiral....was not a problem, she wouldn’t even remember it after this phone call. Her body...her body was hot.

“I’m so horny... I want my husband to take care of my needs...” Margaret replied, staring into the television screen as the spiral spun and twisted, thighs squeezing together as the heat in the room seemed to increase even more.

“I see. Then all you have to do is give us your address Mrs. Thatcher, and we’ll ensure your husband comes straight home to...service you.”

Margaret sighed in relief, telling the man her home address, as well as a few other things such as her first name, whether she was expecting company, what she was wearing, and her bust size. All things that she didn’t really think of as important...and the man agreed, telling her she could just forget she’d ever mentioned any of them, in fact, she could forget this entire conversation and go back to staring at the spiral, letting her body get hotter and hotter...preparing herself for when her husband arrived to take care of her.

The spiral was still all encompassing as she put the phone down, why did she bring that over to the couch again? The way it drew her in, really pulled in all her attention, staring at it from the comfort of her couch. It was nice, it distracted her from how hot her body was, how needy, helped her to relax and wait for her husband to arrive. He wasn’t scheduled to be off of work for 4 more hours...but Margaret had a feeling that today he would arrive home early, and she wanted that moment to come as quickly as possible.

“I am under control...”

“I am under control...”

“I am under control...”

Margaret didn’t know when she started to repeat that phrase but couldn’t deny how good it felt simply saying it. It felt good to be under control when she was feeling so very out of control at the same time. Her body was so hot, her wet kitty dripping as she stared, and drooled, and waited for her husband...waited for her husband to come home...and take care of her.

The doorbell rang and Margaret stood slowly, eyes glazed over as she watched the spiral, continuing to watch in her mind’s eye as she moved toward the front door and opened it seeing a strange man dressed as a technician along with a name badge from Outer Limits Television Ser- seeing her husband standing there dressed as a technician. She smiled broadly and let him into the house, closing and locking the door behind him as he entered and turned the television off first thing.

“Oh honey! I’m so glad you’re home, you have no idea how much I missed you today!”

“I think I have some idea Mrs. Tha- I mean, Maggie. Why don’t we get you out of those clothes and into bed?” Maggie giggled and nodded her head, that sounded like exactly what she needed.