The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The fall of the United States finally came in 2021. As a civil war broke out over resources and goods, the northeastern part of the former United States, along with six other sections of the formerly united country, broke off into their own countries. The war that carried on afterward led to the slaughter of about 40 million people, which was eventually won by the former northeastern quadrant. The mid-Atlantic states, its main and most local foe, was centrally defeated and the citizens kept as manual labor slaves.

The reasoning behind the mid-Atlantic regions sudden surrender became very clear soon enough. As clandestine parts of the military and government aligned themselves with various regions and their new states, they brought along their experimental technology as well. A scientist and psychologist who had worked with the CIA came to the leaders of the northeast and showed them their brainwashing technology, which had been worked on during the final president’s reign as an alternative to torture.

Of course, the leaders took this on and quickly had the creators killed. They began capturing radicals and criminals for experimentation. Soon enough, they had enough specimens to perfect the process. This led to a very patriarchal society as men took over and enslaved their wives, daughters, mothers, and sisters. A sex slave trade began, and a trade of enslaved workers, and those in the higher classes and closest to the situation, thrived.

However, many in the new country did not thrive. Hunger and crime was rampant throughout the lower classes. Despite promises that hard work would help citizens to rise up, they did not help. A rebellion was squashed harshly a few years into this regime and, as punishment, the lower classes were kept under martial law and required to work for the upper classes.

As punishment for their rebellion, not only were male sons of families, which there were many after birth control was outlawed, taken and brainwashed to work for the upper class, but the daughters of lower class families, once they reached the age of 16, were put into a mandatory lottery to be brainwashed and married off to a scion of the upper class. The upper class had thought it would stop rebellion and force the lower classes to remain in line because of the potential rewards given to the family of the girl who had the “winning collar,” as it became known over the years, and would demand obedience of their daughters and wives.

Once girls turned 16, they were put into mandatory obedience collars. This was done on their birthdays in a ceremony that all members of the community were required to attend as a reminder of their need to obey. If they misbehaved or otherwise acted out, they could be zapped with them. The collars were painful. But their real use were to brainwash. When collared, micro-nanites were shot into the girl’s body, waiting for activation if she “wins” the lottery and has the winning collar.

Besides the obvious gain for the upper class, the examples made of a few uppity girls over the years were normally enough to keep them in line, the family of the girl who had the winning collar and “won” was also handsomely compensated. A payoff was made to them, which led to them becoming a bit higher up the ladder in the lower classes. Also, their other daughters or wives could not be chosen anymore until five years had passed.

The winner was sent to the upper class’s capital. The upper class lived in domes to keep out undesirables and weather, which had become increasingly erratic as the climate changed. Inside, their weather controlled paradise was vast and rich. The winner travels there and is then taken to a brainwashing center to be turned into the ideal slave their future owner desired. The girl with the winning collar is also reprogrammed so she does not remember her previous life. She thinks she grew up in a life of privilege and wealth. She remembers the story of falling in love that her future husband desires for her.

There was a great demand for sexual slaves as well and often trouble makers in the lower classes were captured and brainwashed into docile obedience. Freedom fighter of the proletariat one week, docile, deeply needing to please, maid the next.

Abigail was a willowy blond with short “pixie” hair who was had turned seventeen earlier in the year. Her mother had the Winning Collar six years before, but things had not turned out as well for her although she dealt well with the hand she had been given. They lived a fairly comfortable life because of her mother’s “victory,” but material things often just led to a new hierarchy within the lower classes and “have nots” and “have not as bad,” which brought up resentment and disorder. This kept people from uniting and working harder to fight against the upper classes. Growing up with her father and his new wife, while pretty, she did not get the attention that more promiscuous girls did. Abigail was not a prude, but tried her best to not totally acquiesce to using her body to profit.

After spending more time than usual preparing herself with much heavier makeup, shadowy eyes and bright lip gloss, and a more feminine outfit than the normally plain girl would wear, for some reason she dressed up nicer and did not realize it until she saw herself in the mirror before leaving, she set off on the town train with a number of other women and girls, some of whom made polite conversation about their outfits or the weather or other things, and mostly kept to herself and calmly thought about her situation. While the blonde girl did attract attention from men both her age and much older, she instead tried to focus herself on school, which was still available in limited form, and caring for her father’s home. In the decidedly more patriarchal society they lived in now, the only things they were taught about the times before them was all the ways society had failed, girls were not given deep educations, often raised from birth to see their value in relation to how men perceived them whether sexually, domestically, or romantically. Abigail was not a super bright girl, but she was not stupid either and could probably, and wanted to, work if at all possible. She wanted to avoid just becoming sexual chattel like so many of her classmates had acquiesced to being.

After the train ride, Abigail came down to the center with all of the other women. They were coordinated into lines by a series of mindless, automaton, in knee high, high heeled, boots, slaves who shouted commands at them and urged them to hurry to please their betters. One of them was a girl that the blonde teenager remembered from their youth who had “vanished” one day after going out to run an errand. The girl was now just another nameless slave for the upper class. Abigail gave a wave to her Aunt Crystal, now past the cutoff age of 50, as she stopped in place at the direction of the slave standing before her. The clumsy girl scolded herself under her breath for wearing such high heels. Why had she done that?

As the commotion of the procession began to fade, the nation’s new national anthem played and each woman moved to stand at attention under threat of severe pain from their collar. Each year, at least one woman defied this directive and this year was no different as a woman nearing middle age fell to the ground before being dragged away by two slaves.

The raven haired girl who won last year came out and gave a wave to the crowd, ignoring the screams from the woman she now did not think of as her mother. Katrina, the former “Katie” had been a wild party girl about to turn 20 when she had the winning collar last year. Now she was married and a perfect hostess for her new husband, who was an important up and coming political figure. Katrina, pearls around her neck shining in the day light, was devoted to her slavery and service to the upper classes. The green sleeveless sweater she wore hugged her augmented breasts while a knee length skirt played hide and seek with her, post slavery, shapely, athletic, legs. She waved and cheerfully smiled at women she did not remember as her former classmates, mother, and friends.

Normally, Abigail found the way the upper class showed off their brainwashed trophies, but this year she felt a little pang of jealousy. Katrina looked genuinely happy in her new situation, although, obviously, she could not remember the previous one. Abigail was sad for the girl’s real mother, but given their circumstances the screaming was a bit odd. The chances, eventually, as she had learned herself, of meeting a family member or friend later who did not remember them were fairly high eventually. It was reality and until a new situation came along, they would have to survive. From the looks of it, Katrina was surviving just fine.

Abigail’s father came over and glared at her. They had never been that close, but they had significantly grown apart since her mother had “won” six years before. The woman he married afterwards was obviously drawn to him by his new found wealth and treated the blonde girl as a threat or even, perhaps, competition. Abigail just tried to avoid the cold woman and hoped eventually a better solution would come along for her.

After the opening comments from Katrina have ended, Abigail braced herself for what happened next. The loud noise that activated the collars did not hurt her, but she tensed up as every woman in line, including herself, fell into an empty trance. Her mind just...emptied and she stared straight ahead, eyes growing large and dollesque as anything but obedience became unimportant. Each woman looked deeply subservient and extremely feminine in their thrall, which was partially due to the subliminal command they were given a few days previous to make sure they looked their best. Abigail had certainly dressed and made herself up out of her norm.

Near where Abigail mindlessly stood, two boys stared at her. “I wonder if this is rigged,” he asked his friend, sounding way more cynical than any adolescent should sound even in such a desolate situation like this one. His friend shrugged and wondered what it would be like to throw the rock in his pocket at one of the women.

With a big smile on her face, Katrina announced the winning collar. The number did not correspond to the one on Abigail’s collar. The blond stared vacantly as another girl her age was picked at random after a few variables, such as the needs of upper class scions, were entered. Each woman’s collar had a number on it that would be their “winning” number if they were picked. Katrina helping her up the stairs with a squeezed hand of welcome. The politician’s wife said a few more words to the crowd and then hugged the entranced girl, who stood there silently like the puppet she was.

In the crowd, Abigail’s father muttered something to one of his friends and stared at his wife and daughter, who stared straight ahead at the stage. Sometimes he wished they could both stay that way, just empty headed marionettes at his command. He should be more assertive with his wife, he thought. His daughter should know her place too.

After Katrina’s remarks ended, the girl with The Winning Collar’s collar released chemicals into her body, infecting her with what would make her slavery permanent. Her eyes glazed over and a gentle, agreeable, smile came over her face. A slave led her off stage where a leash was connected to her collar and she obediently followed the slave to a pair of men who took her from there.

After Katrina’s remarks ended, another loud noise “woke up” the women in each row and they returned to their families. Quickly, their memories of the girl with The Winning Collar faded out of Abigail’s mind, becoming distant memories slightly out of reach. Her father kissed his wife when she returned to him. He whispered something in her ear, which made her giggle, and he dragged her home to make love.

After arriving back at home, Abigail took a light dinner and retired to her room, but not before hearing her father fucking and spanking his wife. Whatever. She logged online and found that she had one less friend listed in her social profile, but could not figure out for the life of her which friend was gone. After staring at the screen for a long moment, any concerns about it slipped from her mind.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror attached to the wall by her bed. “Why did I wear so much makeup?” Abigail asked herself as she stood up and walked into the bathroom to wash her face. It was odd that the normally plain girl wore so much, but scrubbing away her eye makeup made the unruly concerns drift away. Maybe, she thought, she should wear more and try to attract people to her appearance. Certainly, the blond was not ugly, but she hid her looks because the ways other girls were treated for them had always bothered her.

Abigail returned from her day dream to find a new notification on her computer. One of her friends returned from the ceremony and her boyfriend had proposed. The blond stared at the moderately big ring picture on her screen, he must have saved for a long time, and sighed softly. Everyone seemed, as her step mother screamed in ecstasy again from the other room, to have found contentment but her. Making a snap decision, she pulled up a new browser window. Abigail had decided to go out that night. Quickly, she went to the district’s dating website and made a new profile for herself.

She put up a profile for herself. Abigail began furiously typing out a desire for happiness and security. This desire, she continued, was one that included a willingness to submit to a man that was reliable, secure, and strong. This man should romance her and give her a happy life.

This felt partially selfish for some reason that she could not figure out. The thought drifted away after a few moments. Abigail touched up her makeup and put on a fancy black dress she had worn on a few dates, snapped a few new pictures, uploaded them to the profile, and hit submit.

Of course, by the time she walked back downstairs, put away her dishes, and walked back upstairs, she had received hundreds of messages. Most were crude or obviously from people who were faking their lifestyle. Even more troubling was those from slavers, but she had a plugin on her computer to identify their web addresses. The combination of hitting the delete or block button over and over with the tip of her white nails was extremely frustrating though.

Eventually a few decent ones came through and then one really nice man. His name was Andrew and he was wealthy, handsome, and did not use the words “cunt” or “whore” at all. He said she was pretty and apologized for taking up her time from the flood of crude messages a beautiful young lady like her would receive from men nowhere near worthy of her time.

Oh, my.

They spoke until well into the morning, with the blond girl finding herself smitten with the kind man. An hour later, he came by and picked her up. Beforehand, she packed up some of her favorite belongings and left them in their mailbox for the post to a friend. The handsome man arrived with flowers in hand and she slinked up next to him and into his small limo. Abigail never turned back to see her father’s home, which she would never return to.

Andrew took her to nice restaurant and then an opera in the city the next night after they spent the day together. They had a great conversation and he was very sweet to her. On the ride home, they kissed and she moved to undue his belt, as was expected in her district, but he stopped her and said that could wait. Heart racing at being treated decently by a man who could give her a life better than the one she had now, Abigail put her head against his chest and held on tightly.

She would stay the weekend and continue to we wooed and romanced by him. Abigail was in love by the time a month came about and began allowing him to take control of her life. She dressed as he wishes, behaved as he wished, and took on the role of a proper girlfriend and, after he asked her to marry him on the night of the six month anniversary, wife.

On their wedding night, Andrew attached a ornamental collar around Abigail’s neck, ceremoniously confirming her submission to him. As she was carried in his arms to the bed so they could make love, her hand fell against the collar when she hit the bed. The girl thought she had gotten a winning collar of her own.