The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I tossed my phone into my sock drawer before I brought up the browser on my machine. Paranoid about cameras, it was safely hidden in there, and I had the webcam on my laptop covered with taped-on paper. I stripped off my clothes while Tor loaded over my finished homework, confident nobody would be watching. The connections to the Tor network it needed to set up always took a few moments. I put the towel I’d grabbed from the bathroom on my chair. Copying the location from my text file list of all of the onion sites I had, I pasted it in the browser. This was my special one, my favorite of all in that list. Little butterflies flitted up from my clit in anticipation.

The browser slowly loaded the images of the front page. A banner on top declared “Brainwashed Slaves For Sale!” It was a list of women of various ages, all looking somewhat blankly at the camera. Each had several pictures, head shots and full body nudes of various poses. Next to the pictures were little descriptions of the women, giving measurements, describing personality and former career, and telling about their brainwashing process. Dates were also listed, for when the women were expected to be ready for sale. It was all some big scam, I was sure, because who could really be brainwashed like that?

I scrolled through and picked one that looked interesting. She was a dirty blond who’s ice blue eyes were intriguing in their lifelessness. I clicked the images and came to her page. Her “former” name was Adrienne, and she “used to be” a college student at Dartmouth. I always wondered what triggered a woman to choose to be on the site. The money must be excellent to pose nude and look so brainwashed. They definitely were coached well. Several of her videos were displayed, taking her through the process. The videos on the site were always really well done, and I loved each one. It was so twisted. I was seriously bent to get off on this woman getting mind fucked. Or at least pretending to be.

I clicked on one video that looked promising. Adrienne walked into the room and knelt in front of a screen. She was nude and placed a cap over her head that had wires running up and off-screen. The screen was flashing into her eyes. She faded into a blank look, features slack across her face. Her posture was perfect. The camera zoomed in to show her lips moving, and the sound adjusted to hear her chanting, “Obedience is pleasure. I am obedient, so I receive pleasure.” One hand picked up a dildo and slowly worked it into her pussy. Vibrating at a low setting, she moved it in and out of herself.

It was perfect. She was playing at programming herself and with that look, I could almost believe it. My hand grabbed my own pocket rocket, and I brought it down to my already sopping wet pussy. While my other hand began playing with my hard nipples, the vibrator found my flushed clit and I quickly found myself on the edge. I could see her tense, but I couldn’t tell if she came or not. I could feel the heat between my legs ready to crest as I moaned out my own need. The thought that she was being held on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm tossed me over into a glorious climax that made my toes curl, my stomach clench, my legs slam together, my voice choke and my pussy gush all over the towel. I rode out the ecstasy for a full minute before finally unwinding my body.

Adrienne was still chanting. It was so hot.

My overly sensitive clit demanded I move the small dildo away. The whole thing had been too fast, and I wasn’t really satisfied yet. I took a few minutes to recover, watching the blank look on her face, while I just sat there, staring. I wondered briefly if I looked as blank now. Laughing a little, I clicked back to check out another video. The first ones were always fun, where the supposed victim came in for their first conditioning treatment. I clicked on Adrienne’s.

She was lead into a room, fully clothed, gagged, and fighting with her captors. The first video always started out like this. With the camera moving around the scene, one of the big, strong-looking men shoved her into a metal chair in the center of the bare, concrete room, while another grabbed her arms and tied them behind her. Struggling like she was, it wasn’t easy for them, but eventually her hands were bound and her elbows tied to the back of the chair. Ropes went around her waist, holding her in place, and her ankles were lashed to the legs of the chair. It was bolted down, so no matter how hard she tried, the chair didn’t budge. One man held her head still while a woman placed a tight-fitting cap on her. Wires ran up and off-screen. The woman stuck her with a needle and injected some clear fluid. Then the group left the room.

Flashing lights started from a screen in front of her. They played across her features. The colors and patterns became more soothing, and she blinked her eyes. Calm music started playing in the background. I always loved this bit, because you could almost hear voices behind the tones, and I always imagined there were subliminal messages writing themselves into her consciousness. I imagined it was me in that chair, bound, helpless, with a machine relentlessly conditioning my mind into smooth obedience. I felt my nips pulse and harden, and my stomach fluttered as my pussy dripped.

Some part of me was really twisted, getting off on this, getting off on imagining this done to me. It didn’t matter though. It was so hot.

I watched as she slowly stopped struggling, the effects of whatever they injected her with overcoming her. She stared forward, into the patterns of the screen. I could see them reflected in her eyes. One of my hands drifted down and started lightly toying with my crotch, while the other began brushing and circling my hard nipples. A little bit of drool slipped out around her gag. I whined as my fingers gently slid over my clit, then went back to flirting with my wet lips around it. My other hand went to the mouse, and I clicked back to try another video.

This time I picked one from a later stage, where she would be a little more docile. She followed a man and woman into the room. Her acting was great. She looked more subservient, even keeping her head down in deference to them.

“Strip,” one commanded. Adrienne did, efficiently.

“Sit on the chair,” the other said, and Adrienne did that too. “Put the cap on.” She did.

“Watch. Learn.” The man flipped on lights behind the camera. I got to watch as the colors played off of Adrienne’s face, off of her eyes, which slowly faded from alive to blank. A faint hissing started up in the background. The man and woman walked out of the room. My fingers sped around and over my clit as my other hand mashed my breasts. I was quickly on the edge, ready to explode, and seeing her expression go slack nearly did it. In the end, it was watching her eyes, the light behind them fading, going dead, that sent me over into a heated orgasm. My pussy clenched and squirted a little onto the towel, my thighs wrapped tight around my hand, my toes curled, my gut clenched hard and burning hot lava ran up from my crotch to my mind, scortching everything in its path.

I only slowly recovered. The video had played on, and now Adrienne was chanting something I could only barely hear. Her whispers sounded out something like, “Slaves are obedient. I am a slave. I am obedient.” Over and over. My hands pulled away from my clit and I stopped mauling my breasts, even though this scene was so hot I wanted to try again. But two orgasms so close together always left me a little wiped out, and I needed a bit to recharge. I decided to go check the new girl section as I recovered.

Back on the home page, there was a bit towards the bottom labeled, “Fresh Meat”. If there were any new models that they were hiring, they were listed there. They’d have photos of them “stalking the prey”, with coffee shops, cars, apartments, everything from what looked like a real life. It was always well-staged. The section was empty this time. I was a little disappointed, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was always good to see someone that I hadn’t yet clicked through.

As I slowly recovered, I went back into the list. They cycled different models, so some of the ones that I really loved had moved off the page and into a section called, “Sold!” I clicked there, and looked for one of my specials, “Alisa”. It was going to be a good night.

The next day I was at it again, as soon as I finished my homework. Tor came up as I stripped, my phone and its hackable camera safely hidden away in my shorts pocket. I went to the site, and it came up. This time, I figured I would start with the “Fresh Meat” section. I wanted something new.

Instead, what I got was me. There I was, sitting in class, driving my car, talking with friends, hanging out at a bar, entering my apartment...

Entering my apartment. WTF? They knew where I lived!

I was in a near panic as I looked at my images. I recognized each day. They were really recent, like in the last week. I flipped out as I clicked on the “Videos Coming!” link.

Hissing started playing out of my speakers. The screen showed “We’re coming for you,” across the top, with lights dancing in the background. I could feel myself drawn in, slowly starting to fade, and shocked that it really seemed to be working, if only a little. The panic won out and I slammed my laptop shut.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit,” I repeated to myself, frozen on the chair. The realization that the site wasn’t fake slowly crept over me. Or at least not entirely fake. Or somebody with a really fucked up sense of humor had just punked me.

My phone chimed. I fumbled with my shorts and looked at it. A text had come in. I quickly took a look.

“We are coming for you. You can stop it by giving us her.” It had a picture of my friend Jenny, sitting next to me laughing at a coffee shop. Tears streaked down my face and my hand shook, blurring the image. I remembered the day, just this Sunday, when we had gotten together to study for chemistry.

Another text showed up. I looked, and saw myself staring just off camera, naked, sitting on my chair. It was just now. ‘Oh fuck,’ I thought to myself, ‘they have my phone!’

I dropped it, then covered it with my shorts.

I sobbed for a while, freaked out.

The doorbell rang, and I jumped straight up out of my chair. Still crying, I walked over and looked through the peep hole. There wasn’t anybody there. With the chain on, I slowly cracked the door. On the ground was a box, with “Fresh Meat Trap Kit” written in marker on the top.

My phone chimed again, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I ran over to check it, then thought about it and slid on my clothes first. The text was from the same number as the first two. “Open it” was all it said.

I shook, indecision gripping me. Open it? Throw it away? In the end, I figured that I should at least check the box out, if whoever was playing these games could come after me in some crazy stalker way. The box wasn’t big, and when I opened it, it only contained a few items. It had a small bottle, a hood, handcuffs, ankle cuffs and a short chain with clips on the ends. There was also a slip of paper with instructions on it.

“Slip her the drug. When she’s out, put the hood on and cuff her hands behind her back. Then cuff her ankles and use the chain to lock her ankles to her hands.” It had an illustration of how they wanted her to look.

My phone chimed again. I managed not to jump this time. “We’re watching. Get her tonight or it’s you.” Another picture followed of me staring at me phone.

I didn’t know who was doing this, whether it was some elaborate joke, or some crazy stalker, or some real and really fucked up individuals who actually sold women into slavery. I just sat on the couch, crying.

Again, my phone chimed. “Better hurry.”

I texted Jenny. Fuck, I didn’t know why, not really, but I texted her anyway.

She had her books out on the little table I had in my studio apartment. It was the only thing that fit, really. I had mine down opposite her. I’d mentioned that I was having trouble solving a few equations in DiffEq and needed help before the quiz tomorrow. She’d agreed right away, always a good friend.

Always a good friend, and I was about to do this to her.

“Need something to drink?” I asked, trying to stay cool.

“Sure. You still have that orange spice tea?”

“Yeah, sure, give me a sec.” I stood up, walked over to the little kitchenette, and put a bunch of water in a glass bowl into the microwave. It was the only way I had to boil water.

I sat back down, fidgeting. My phone chimed, and looking at it quickly, a text read, “Hurry. We’re on our way to get her.” I sucked in a breath.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just worried about this damn quiz, and the test later on this shit,” I replied.

“Okay,” she said, looking at my phone a little quizzically. “Here, do you see how I did this?” I took a look at her paper and dutifully studied it.

The microwave chimed, and I got up to make the tea. I was shaking as I reached for the tea bags and started the tea steeping in the only two mugs I owned. She was looking down at her homework, checking something I assumed, and I quickly poured the contents of the bottle into her cup. Hoping she hadn’t noticed, I brought the mugs over along with a small saucer and a spoon for the bags when the tea was done.

“Okay, here’s the next type.” She showed me her homework again, and I played at studying for a bit until she started sipping.

It only took a half the mug and she was starting to look glazed. She kept trying to re-focus, but I could see how quickly the, well, whatever was in that bottle was working.

“I’m... I’m a little dizzy here,” she said, before putting her head in her hands. “Having a bit of trouble.”

“A little more tea might help,” I said, and she took another sip. Setting it down, she slid out of her chair.

“Wai... wuz... I sho...” she mumbled.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I said, guiding her down. Once she was on the floor, I reached under my futon and grabbed the box.

“Whu... waz... hap...” she mumbled.

I flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her hands behind her, and cuffed them before she really knew what was going on. The ankle cuffs weren’t that difficult, but she tried to struggle a little as I chained the two cuffs together. She tried to shake her head as I put the hood on her. It was all over so quickly, and I started crying as soon as I realized, really took in what I had just done.

She was flailing, struggling, mumbling as I heard a knock at the door. I got up, and saw men through the peephole. I recognized a few from the site.

“Oh, fuck me,” I whispered to myself. I didn’t open the door. They pounded, and I freaked out. I stumbled back. My phone chimed. “Let us in or we’ll knock it down and take you both.”

“Fuck me,” I whispered to myself, and opened the door.

They barged past me, though one was holding a phone up, looking like he was filming. He stuck it in my face, then panned over to Jenny, trussed up on the floor. They picked up her struggling form and stuck her in a huge bag they had. With a couple carrying her, out they went. Just like that, it was over.

It was over, and I’d just given my friend to evil men.

I couldn’t help myself. It was not much later that evening, and I just couldn’t stop from checking.

The site came up, and I hid my phone just in case. I scrolled down to the “Fresh Meat” section, and I was still there. Just below, though, was a big graphic saying, “New Girl!” with pictures of Jenny around campus. I clicked through to her videos, and there were two up. The first was the abduction. I freaked watching the video that guy had captured, with my face looking scared as they went past me to get Jenny.

I went back, and clicked on her other video. She was dragged into the room with the chair, and secured in place. I could see she was still a little drugged from whatever I’d given her. They shot her up with some stuff anyway. The cap went on, with wires trailing off screen. Lights played across her vision, and I could hear a hissing in the background. I wondered if there were really subliminals in it. Soon, I knew there’d be videos of Jenny chanting obedience and slavery mantras into the screen. She’d be pleasuring herself while droning on and staring at pretty lights. Eventually, she might really be sold. And I’d condemned her to it.

I couldn’t help it. My shorts hit the floor and my feet came up next to my laptop. I gently ran my fingers over my wet pussy. It only took seconds for the first wave to hit, crashing me over and into a blistering orgasm while watching the light fade from my friend’s eyes.

It was easier to imagine myself in that position now, captured, tied up, being brainwashed. For real. For real!

I clicked back and, a little trepidatiously, clicked on my videos. The same screen came up, with the hissing and the slowly dancing lights. It said, “You’re ours now! We’ll have all of your friends soon, and then we’ll have you!”

I came again, squirting a little on the chair.