The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Genna is in the kitchen munching on bowl Lemon Frosties. She is sitting with her legs crossed comfortably, wearing a tight T-Shirt with a cute cartoon cat printed on it. Her hair is in a loose ponytail hanging down past the nape of her neck, and her boots sit on the chair next to her, so that her orange stocking feet are plainly visible. She wiggles her toes and smiles as she settles in for breakfast, alternating between eating her cereal and looking at the newspaper.

Witchgirl walks into the kitchen, dressed in a black T-shirt, jeans, and wearing her see-through plastic pink raincoat. She is soaking wet, and a small puddle of water collects around her boots on the linoleum. “Oh, man,” she says. “It’s POURING out there. It’s coming down in BUCKETS, Genna.”

Witchgirl bends over and shakes her hair like a dog shaking off water. She laughs as drops of water spray the kitchen. Genna looks over at Witchgirl and laughs until the water comes flying at her. “Hey!!” she yells. “Watch it!”

Witchgirl straightens up and smiles. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

“Very funny. Where have you been?”

Witchgirl takes off her coat and hangs it on the back of the chair.

“I had another visit with my doctor,” she says. “It went very well. I think I’m getting the hang of this psychoanalysis junk. You have to keep an open mind.”

“That’s a good attitude,” Genna says casually, as she turns the page of her newspaper.

Witchgirl sits down next to Genna and eyes her food. “Mind if I have some?” she asks.

“Go ahead,” Genna says. She scoops up some cereal and milk in her spoon and offers it to Witchgirl, holding it out toward her mouth. She holds her hand under the spoon in order to catch any of the milk that may drip onto the table.

Witchgirl leans forward and opens her mouth wide, closing her eyes. Genna feeds Witchgirl the spoonful, placing the spoon deep into mouth, then sliding it back out. Witchgirl closes her mouth and slides her lips off of the spoon, leaning back and chewing and swallowing. It tastes of sugar and lemon and just a hint of cinnamon. Somehow, all the competing tastes work together, and it’s delicious. “Wow, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Genna says. “I like them. Kinda like a guilty pleasure.”

Witchgirl nods as she chews. “If only Special K tasted like this.”

Genna takes another spoonful for herself and talks with her mouth full. “You’re not pissed at your psychologist anymore?” she asks.

Witchgirl watches her eat and thinks about what a good day it is, despite the AWFUL rain outside. In fact, she seems pretty consistently happy these days, which is great. It’s sort of funny how malleable a person’s moods can be-just expend a little effort and you CAN make yourself a happier person. At least that’s what the DOKTER says.

“Well, we had a good conversation about it. He seems to think that it was actually kind of a breakthrough. He said that anger is actually a very valuable tool in psychotherapy, and that I’m in a ‘new’ place in our relationship now.”

Genna readies another spoonful of cereal for Witchgirl, again placing her hand underneath to prevent the milk from spilling. Witchgirl leans forward and closes her eyes, opening her mouth. Genna slides the spoon between Witchgirl’s lips and says, “And what does that mean in common everyday English?”

Witchgirl shrugs and swallows. “I don’t really know, actually. But I DO know that I feel more comfortable, and that after my little ‘fit’ I haven’t been angry all week. Maybe it has something to do with you, Genna. You’ve been SOOO supportive. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s so nice of you to say, Laurie.”

Witchgirl closes her eyes and leans forward, opening her mouth.

Genna slides the spoon in again. “By the way,” she says. “A package came for you in the mail today.”

“Oh, really? From whom?”

“I’m not sure. I put it on the bed.”

Witchgirl nods and stands up. “I’m going to check it out.”

Witchgirl heads into the bedroom as Genna starts eating the rest of the cereal. “Hey Laurie?” she calls out as she reads the paper. “Did you know that prostitutes in the Netherlands can now have corporate bank accounts?”

Witchgirl comes back into the room holding a package wrapped in plain brown paper. “What did you say, Genna?”

“I said that prostitutes can have corporate bank accounts in the Netherlands.”

“WhatEVER, Genna,” Witchgirl says with a little laugh. She shrugs and sits down and looks at the return address on the package. “It says it comes from Georgia,” Witchgirl explains, “but I don’t know anybody in Georgia.” Then she begins to tear it open, slowly, at one end. She removes a small white binder with a picture of Witchgirl’s smiling face on the front. At the bottom it says ‘Model WG001-L4UR13—’Z04M15T4ADU5’. Witchgirl leafs through it casually, lips slightly pursed in puzzlement.

“What is it?” Genna asks.

“I’m not exactly sure.” Witchgirl narrows her eyes and nudges the binder over to Genna so she can look at it. “It’s kind of creepy, don’t you think? Look at the model number at the bottom.”

Now Genna leafs through the pages. Witchgirl moves behind her and begins to look over her shoulder at the manual. “Do you have any idea what it could mean, Genna?”

“I’m not sure. Ummm...do you mind not letting your hair flow down into my face while I’m reading? I’m not crazy about people reading over my shoulder. It’s distracting.” She looks up at Witchgirl and smiles, as if to soften the slightly scolding tone in her words. “I’ll give you something to do while I’m looking at it, okay?” she says, and then she bends down and places the cereal bowl and its remaining milk on the floor. “There you go.”

Witchgirl looks down at the bowl of milk on the floor. Her lips are still pursed slightly in puzzlement, and she hesitates for a moment, staring at the bowl. But then something in her mind clicks and she gets on her hands and knees and begins to lick at the bowl like a cat.

“Now. Let’s see,” Genna continues. “Table of contents, multiple chapters, appendix, index, and tons of pictures of you. Hmmm...it seems that it’s designed to take in additional supplements as they become available. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this was an operator’s manual. An operator’s manual FOR YOU.”

Witchgirl looks up from the bowl, a little milk on her upper lip, ass raised slightly in the air. Nothing seems out of the ordinary about this position to her, and anyway, the milk is so good. Sweet because of the cereal. “Really?” she asks. “An owner’s manual?”

“Yeah. It lists your likes, dislikes, fetishes...everything...”

Witchgirl turns back to the bowl and begins to lick the last of the milk from it, her back slightly arched.

“The index references your G-spot on page 172!”

Witchgirl looks up from her milk, a shocked expression on her face. “WHAT? But...that’s CRAZY.”

Genna turns the book to page 172 and leans down to show it to Witchgirl.

Witchgirl gasps, a little ring of milk around her mouth. “Oh my gosh. Genna, this is beginning to scare me. What if one of my old villains is behind this? Someone who has tried to mind control me in the past, for instance. This sounds like something like that.”

Genna flips through the book more, only half-listening to Witchgirl. “But how could they have this type of detailed information on you? And anyway, even if they DID have all this information on you, I find it very difficult to believe that someone would succeed in a plan like that.”

“What do you mean?” Witchgirl asks. She looks up at Genna from the floor, ass still slightly raised in the air, the bowl of milk licked clean in front of her.

“I just can’t imagine you being mind controlled. Your will power is too strong for that.” She flips to the front of the book. “This is interesting. It says this book was originally made in 1992, but revised recently with new supplements. Let’s see. The supplements are all in the Appendix.”

“1992,” Witchgirl says. “That’s the year I was born. This is getting stranger by the second."”

Genna flips quickly to the back of the book, seemingly oblivious to what Witchgirl is saying. There’s a strange mix of surprise and barely suppressed excitement in her voice-as if she’s just received a new toy. “Wow. Appendix C. There’s a picture here. And a name. Elizabeth Sexidoll. This doesn’t look anything like you. Well, it looks SORT OF like you. But it’s like you’ve been all...well, look for yourself.”

Genna slides the bowl of milk out of the way and puts the book down in its place. Witchgirl stares down at that photograph of herself...of Elizabeth Sexidoll-the woman does look something like her, but sexier and almost cartoonish in her happiness. Her hair is blond and she is dressed in a pink costume, low cut around her breasts, which are pushed up and together and thrust out toward the photographer proudly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Laurie. Would you like more milk?” Genna asks, as she picks up the bowl and heads to the fridge.

“Oh, um, sure,” Witchgirl stammers, as she gazes at the picture, as if into a distorted mirror.

Genna sets more milk down on the floor. She picks up the book and heads back to the kitchen table. “Yes. It’s definitely you. Someone who looks like you. But the body is a little different. And the only pink you wear is that scrunchy and your raincoat. Oh, and your new undies. The ones I just bought for you. You don’t have many pink things at all.”

Witchgirl licks from the bowl. She loves milk.

“Are you saying I should get more?” she says between licks.

“That’s up to you. But I think you look cute in pink. And this picture shows you would look cute in pink. Oh, and look. There’s a workout routine for you and everything. This book is VERY thorough. And guess what? It’s the workout you’ve been doing recently. That videotape I gave you. Kyle’s Wondrous Workout. Isn’t that a neat coincidence?”

Witchgirl smiles and pushes her face down deep into the bowl. “It’s funny. My doctor was just remarking today on the link between a healthy body and a healthy mind.”

“Sure, Betsy.”

Witchgirl glances over at Genna. “What did you say, Genna? Did you just call me Betsy?”

“I said of course not, sweetie. You okay?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That manual probably just has me a little frazzled.”

“Yeah, I guess I’d be a little uneasy if everything I am was written down in a manual like I was someone’s possession.”

“I KNOW. It’s befuddling. Though I figured you to be used to it by know. I mean, you HAVE had it for a couple of months.”

Witchgirl blinks. A little milk covers the tip of her nose now. “A couple of months? But...”

“Yeah. Your father threw it at you when you two had that argument.”

Witchgirl is beginning to feel a little lightheaded. A dapple of milk still tints the tip of her nose. The bowl has been licked clean again. “I did? But didn’t it just arrive...”

Genna doesn’t appear to be listening. “I still remember what he said. How he should have never bought you from that freaking con man in the first place. That you’ve been nothing but trouble...”

“Freaking...con...man?” Witchgirl stammers.

“That if he had a real daughter instead of some automaton, she would be loyal to him, doing what he said instead of trying to live her own life.”

“But it was important that I live my own life,” Witchgirl whispers, her lips open. She feels so confused. She looks over at the manual, then at Genna. She stares deeply into Genna’s eyes, head swimming a little. She tries to concentrate on Genna’s voice. That always makes her feel good.

Genna says, “But it turned out okay, didn’t it? You’re a famous superheroine in not just one but TWO worlds. You’ve grown into an independent (dependent) woman who knows what she wants (to serve and obey), able (unable) to make her own decisions.”

Witchgirl smiles a little more confidently now.

“And you have a good friend like me to help you,” Genna says with a smirk.

“That’s true, Genna,” Witchgirl recites. “I’ve grown into a dependent woman who knows what she wants, to...to...” Witchgirl looks into Genna’s eyes, then back at the manual...HER manual...then back at Genna. “Genna, I have to tell you something.” She speaks in a quiet, almost plaintive voice as she stares deeply into the other woman’s eyes.

“Sure sweetie, what is it?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m drifting. Like I’m losing control over myself. It’s like everything is a dream.”

“I know, sweetie. It mentions that in the manual.”

“Oh, it does?”

Genna wipes the milk off the tip of Witchgirl’s nose with the palm of her hand. “It seems that your model of Witchgirl needs to know it’s owned and loved...giving it a sense of purpose.”

“Oh, well, that explains it...doesn’t it?”

“Yep. But I can’t own you because I’m your best friend in the whole wide world. And the manual says that your owner can’t be your best friend. It would be a conflict of interest.”

Witchgirl blinks. “Genna...I feel confused. Owned? I...”

“Well, the man you call your father used to own you. You felt relatively normal back then, didn’t you?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“Well, see, there you go. No one owns you now that he’s thrown you away for trash. Until you get a new owner things will feel a little weird.”

Witchgirl rests her head on the table, check against the plastic tabletop. “Genna. I feel funny.”

“I’m sorry, Laurie. Would you like to stop talking about it? Maybe you should go get ready to do some exercises.”

Witchgirl’s mouth slackens a little. “Maybe you’re right Genna. My doctor told me today about the connection between a healthy mind and healthy...um...body.”

“Go on, sweetie. I’m sure you’d like to wear that new leotard you didn’t think I saw you carry in today.”

“Genna, I didn’t...leotard?”

Genna gets up and kisses Witchgirl on the forehead and stands up.

Genna kisses Witchgirl on the forehead and places her chin on the table, smiling at her. “You didn’t? I thought I saw you carrying in something small, tight, and pink? Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t know. I’m just a girl, after all.” Genna gets up from the table and pets Witchgirl on the head for a moment. Then she takes the bowl and spoon to the sink and washes them, beginning to straighten up the kitchen.

Witchgirl feels the cold, smooth surface of the kitchen table against her soft cheek and stares into the middle-distance, her eyes wide

“Genna...um...Genna?”

“Yes?”

“I think something is happening to me. Something INSIDE.”

“Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you? Maybe you should lie down?”

Witchgirl sighs and does not move, head flat against the table. “I think that would probably be a good idea, except that I’m SO relaxed. I don’t even want to move.”

“Then you don’t have to. Just make yourself comfortable where you are. I’ll get you a blanket in a minute.”

Witchgirl closes her eyes and sighs softly. She hears the running of the water in the sink, the movement of Genna’s hands over the dishes as she washes them. In her mind’s eye she sees...three boys. She smiles slightly. Three boys. Handsome boys. They are smiling at her, speaking to her, touching her.

Witchgirl opens her eyes.

She is covered with a blanket, her head still on the table. She feels very good, as if she has slept in a big, comfortable bed instead of in a hard wooden chair. A TV playing in the other room.

She stands up, the blanket falling on the floor, and walks into the other room, looking around for Genna. A commercial for Blastos cereal is playing on the TV, the cartoon bunny rabbit up to no good as usual. The commercial goes off and a TV show begins, inspiring rock music playing over a montage of beaches and silhouettes of people running. She folds her arms across her chest as she watches. When did get a TV anyway? Or has she always had one?

“We’re getting ready for another action packed performance half hour of the most electrifying fitness on television and we hope you all stay tuned and work out with us!” a voice yells from the TV. It’s Kyle. One of the boys Witchgirl has been thinking about. He points at the camera-at Witchgirl, it seems-as if he can see her as well as she sees him.

That’s when Witchgirl notices what she is wearing. Exercise clothes.

The leotard is very bright pink, with a thong bottom and a scoop chest, thin straps stretching over her shoulders. A little white belt around her waist (part of the suit) has printed around it in black lettering “XTRA TIGHT”.

A big marquee flashes on the screen reading ‘Working out with Kyle’ with a smaller caption reading ‘Starring Kyle’. An announcer begins, “It’s time workout time again! Time for your favorite half-hour workout with Kyle. So get ready, get set, and go!” Just then, Kyle appears on the screen with a variety of screenshots displaying his body in an array of poses, with and without other women. Witchgirl spreads her legs a little and takes a deep breath. All of this seems perfectly natural. She smiles, her tight stomach bared, hands on her hips and watching the TV intently. “Wow, he is so DYNAMIC!” she says.

The screen shows a workout floor with 3 gorgeous women, a blonde, brunette, and a red head, in similar workout clothes to Witchgirl.

Kyle runs out in a white, workout tank top and some blue shorts and immediately begins talking to the camera. “Is everybody ready?”

Witchgirl speaks to the television as if Kyle were right there in the room with her. “Oh, I’m ready.”

The three women also smile and chime together, “We’re ready, Kyle!”

Kyle claps his hands together emphatically. “Alright people! Let’s have some fun!”

He strikes a pose and all the girls swoon. Witchgirl swoons a little too. She wishes she was there in the TV with him, like those other lucky girls!

“Now, I hope everyone has either gotten permission from their doctor to take part in this extreme workout and made sure their owner’s manual okays this workout before beginning.”

“Oh, poo. Where is that silly thing?” Witchgirl says, and she looks around the room. She sees it on the end table, as if it has been placed there for her. She picks it up and flips through it.

Kyle chats idly with the girls, asking them about their weekend. They all giggle as they talk to him.

Witchgirl finds the spot that says that working out with Kyle is highly recommended. She sets down the manual and turns back to the screen just as Kyle begins to speak again, “Okay, ladies, enough about me for now. It’s time to workout. Let’s begin with some stretches.”

“That’s a great idea, Kyle,” Witchgirl says.

Kyle spreads his legs apart and bends down toward his right foot. Each of the girls moves in synch with his movements. He holds the position for about 15 seconds. Witchgirl holds the position for about 15 seconds too, hearing her own breath and the music from the TV.

“Switch!” Kyle yells. He shifts to reach down to his left foot.

Witchgirl switches immediately, feeling the stretch in her calf and thigh muscles. She tries to concentrate on Kyle’s voice.

“Okay, now forward!”

Kyle shifts to the middle position, planting his hands on the ground. 15 seconds seems to be the standard for these stretches. The movement of the girls behind him is a little more exaggerated, as if they might be thrusting out their derrieres. Witchgirl arches her back and stretches, ass out, shoulders back.

“And back!”

Witchgirl is feeling peppier and happier by the second. This has to be the best show on television. It’s so inspiring!

Kyle lifts his torso back and leans back, his crouch coming out a little. The women behind him again seem to exaggerate the movement, almost presenting themselves for display. Witchgirl thrusts out and sighs. She feels warm all over. A bead of sweat moves down her nose.

“Right over left!”

Kyle and the girls, with almost military speed and quickness, cross their right legs before their left legs, holding their balance. Witchgirl does the same.

“Switch!”

Their legs shift as to allow the left before the right. Everything is moving perfectly now, like gears in a machine.

“Switch!”

Their legs shift back.

“Down!”

Witchgirl switches again and falls on her rear end. She scrambles into the downward dog position and stares at the TV, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. Kyle bends down to touch his toes, as do the girls in their usual exaggerated motion.

Witchgirl looks over her shoulder and rubs her rear-it hurts a little-

and then stands up, hurrying to touch her toes. As soon as she does so, another order comes from the TV.

“Up! Chest out! Shoulders back!”

Witchgirl straightens up. Chest out. Shoulders back.

“Smile!”

Witchgirl smiles. The girls on the TV smile. The orders are coming faster and faster. The wonderful orders.

“Touch your toes! Smile! Shoulders back! Keep those boobs out!”

“Turn around! Leg split!”

“Stand up! Smile! Boobs out, girls!”

Witchgirl is moving automatically now, breathing heavily, her skin glistening with sweat. A part of her brain has almost shut itself off and she is moving robotically, instantly responding to the commands.

“Now it’s time for the cool down,” Kyle says.

“Oh, good,” Witchgirl says. “It’s time for the cool down.”

She has a slightly glassy look to her eyes. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her neck smooth with sweat. She pulls a strap off her shoulder and blows a hair out of her eyes again. Exercise makes her feel so sexy!

The TV shows an image of blue water with the words cool down scrolling across it. Light piano music plays in the background.

Witchgirl grabs her manual while she waits and flips through it. There’s a section that breaks her body down into zones...thighs...shoulders...chest. Except the chest is referred to as “boobies”. She keeps reading. The section describes ways to make each body part the best it can possibly be.

Witchgirl sees complex diagrams of her own body in various positions, with arrows labeling different parts. None of this really troubles her. Yes, it all seems very natural.

Kyle looks at each of the girls and then looks back to the camera. “Stand at attention like the girls and begin to breath deeply with your arms out to your side. Can you do that for me, Betsy?”

Each of the girls has their arms out at their sides perfectly straight and is breathing in and out deeply and slowly. Witchgirl does the same, a perfect mimic, eyes slightly closed, and shoulders back.

Witchgirl sets down the manual and focuses on the TV. “Okay, Kyle.”

“Allow your body to relax without losing your form. Remember to keep smiling.”

Witchgirl pushes out her chest a little, proudly, her skin glistening, beaming with pride, taking deep breaths. “Okay, Kyle.”

“Feel yourself drifting away, each inhale relaxing you further and each exhale taking away the tension from your body.”

Witchgirl half-closes her eyes, rocking slightly, ever so slightly. She feels herself drifting, except for Kyle’s voice, which is like an anchor, a strong anchor steadying her.

“Feel the inner peace that the cool down brings, allowing you the freedom you have just worked so hard for.”

Witchgirl eyes completely close as she drifts further, like a kite on a string...Kyle holding her to earth, steadying her, holding her.

“Freedom from your worries...your problems...your troubles...you are at toy now...you are toying yourself to find toy...toying that inner peace toy you’ve been looking toy...”

Witchgirl moans. “...toy...”

“Drifting toy...drifting away...toying a whisper...a whisper in the wind...toy toying toy toy a toy...toy...” He keeps talking. He seems to talk forever. She wishes he would go on forever.

Witchgirl mumbles happily. “Toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

“And we’re done. Thank you for joining us today. We hope you enjoyed your workout and will join us tomorrow. So this is Kyle with Candi, Bambi, and Sandi saying have a nice day.”

Kyle and the girls all waves at the TV screen as the credits begin to roll.

‘Host: Kyle, Director: Mason, Producer: Rich, Models: Candi, Bambi, Sandi, Best Girl: Betsy, Assistant to the Boys: Genna...’

Witchgirl mumbles, “Toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

“This has been a THoJ Production.”

“...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

Genna unlocks the door and enters the apartment, carrying in a bag of groceries. She sees Witchgirl out of the corner of her eye as she uses her foot to close the door after she enters.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d wake up before I got back. I just went out to do some shopping.”

“...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

Genna turns and carries the bags to the kitchen as Witchgirl stands motionless, mumbling to herself and staring straight ahead, a large smile plastered onto her face.

“...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

Genna calls out from the kitchen. “I bought some vanilla ice cream. I know how much you like it. And more milk, of course!”

Witchgirl stands unmoving as Genna talks to her.

“..toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

“And I got some more cereal...even those Strawberry Crunch Blastos you seem to like.”

Genna walks out of the kitchen a few moments later. “Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks, with a smirk on her face. Then, very gently, she pushes two fingers against the tip of Witchgirl’s breast, looking her over. Witchgirl doesn’t even seem to feel it. She just stares ahead, smiling, mumbling to herself.

“...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy.”

Genna puts a hand on her rear end and squeezes just slightly. “You want me to buy you a toy?”

“...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...toy...”

“Oh,” Genna says. “You want to BE a toy. I understand. How cute.” She gives her ass another squeeze, a little harder this time, and laughs.

“Well, I think that can be arranged, Betsy.”