The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was another beautiful day in the Matrix.

The sun was golden and warm, and small beads of sweat dotted Witchgirl’s tanned thighs and shoulders. She stood on the pink-speckled beach looking out at the purple ocean, but her eyes did not seem to focus on the water, or anything at all for that matter. She wore the blank stare of the zombie—but a happy, seductive smile.

“Why did you make the ocean purple?” Rich asked. “It looks ridiculous.”

“Just a whim,” Mason said, as he looked up and down Witchgirl’s smooth, stiff body. She was dressed in a plastic orange swimsuit bottom and thick orange belt with white belt buckle. Small orange circles covered each of her nipples. “I’m just being as creative with our surroundings as I have been with our beautiful Witchgirl here. Don’t you like it?”

“I like Witchgirl,” Rich said, “but I still think the ocean looks stupid.”

“Philistine,” Mason said with a smirk, and he cracked his knuckles.

Kyle stepped up behind Witchgirl and wrapped his arms around her chest, cupping her breasts. She gave no sign of having been touched, not even a blink of her wide-staring eyes. Kyle gave her breasts a squeeze and said, “Mason is trying to demonstrate that he’s more powerful than either of us. That’s why he made the ocean purple, Rich, and the sand red. He’s making sure we know our proper place in the pecking order. But remember...he may be more powerful than either of us, but he’s NOT more powerful than BOTH of us. Isn’t that right, Mason?”

“No comment,” Mason said, smiling the same slanted grin. With a wave of his hand, the ocean changed shade, then changed shade again, moving through all the colors of the rainbow as easily as if Mason were playing with the tint control of a television set.

“Nice,” Kyle said, “but we all have our particular talents, don’t we?” And as if to prove himself, he reached up to Witchgirl’s side, touching her skin with two fingers and his thumb and then pulling away, as if tugging on an invisible string.

Like a doll, she opened her mouth and recited one of her programmed catchphrases. “Hi, my name is Betsy and I love to kiss!” With that, she bent forward at the waist and puckered her lips.

“You might be able to change the color of the ocean,” Kyle added, “but when it comes down to it, I have the most control over Witchgirl here. I’ve put in my hooks the deepest.” He put his hands on her waist, pelvis hard against her behind, and bucked his hips a couple of times. She held her position—lips puckered, bent forward—but her body shook a little from the force of Kyle’s thrusts.

“Now wait a second,” Rich broke in. “We shouldn’t be competitive about this. Especially with another enemy on the horizon. Or have you forgotten about The Dokter? He’s not going to be very happy about us dragging her into the Matrix again, is he?”

Mason cocked an eyebrow and turned to Rich. “That’s very wise of you to say, Rich. Very wise indeed. Possibly there’s hope for you yet, hmm?” He turned and glared out at the ocean, as if he still wasn’t quite happy with it yet, then back at Rich.

“Things are definitely coming to a head,” Kyle said, and he gave Witchgirl’s invisible string another tug.

“Hi, my name is Betsy and I love to kiss,” she recited again, with another thrust of her chest and pucker of her lips.

The boys laughed-it was childish laugh, as if they were sharing a dirty joke behind a teacher’s back-then grew serious again. They looked out at the ocean, where the sea was flecked with white caps. “Are you doing that?” Rich asked after awhile.

“No,” Mason said. “I thought Kyle was.”

“Not me,” Kyle said. It was the first time he had showed worry in his voice since they had set their plan in motion.

The sky was darkening with menacing clouds. A shape was moving out on the horizon, cutting through the water.

Whatever it was, it was growing larger. Moving closer.

“I don’t like this one bit,” Rich said, and he took a step back.

It was a black shark’s fin moving through the water at alarming speed. On either side of it, ocean spray spewed in a high arc.

“It’s heading right at us,” Mason said, as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “At its current rate of movement it’ll be on top of us by the time I finish this sent...”

There was a flash of black and splash of water and Rich went stumbling backward with a scream, arms waving crazily. The shark—or whatever it was—had hit him directly in the chest.

He fell to the sand, legs kicking, as the shark tail waved in the air and then was gone. It was as if it had...climbed inside him. But that was impossible.

Kyle bent over him and noticed the last bit of fin sliding into Rich’s gaping mouth. He glanced over at Witchgirl, who still stood bent forward, lips puckered, as if nothing had happened at all.

Anything is possible in the Matrix, he reminded himself. All you need is the willpower.

Rich’s mouth opened and words spilled out, but not in Rich’s voice. It was a low, hollow, sound, as if it was speaking from down a long, dark hole.

It was the Doktor. Witchgirl recognized it. She took a step back, her expression tightening with fear.

“Hello,” the voice said. “It’s good to meet you boys after all this time. I’ve grown very...intimate...with Rich here, as you’ve probably already noticed. You might say I’m getting to know him from the inside out.” Rich’s face bent into what passed for a smile. “You should hear some of these thoughts he has rattling around in his little head. He resents you, especially, Mason. He thinks you’re pretentious.”

The voice laughed. Witchgirl stammered, “It’s the Doktor...”

“What do you want?” Kyle blurted out, as he tried to find his courage.

Rich’s body sat up and its hands rested on its knees. “It’s good to have a body again,” it mouthed, and then its head pivoted, looking over at Witchgirl. “I’ll put it to use soon enough on this lovely.”

“I asked you a question,” Kyle growled.

“And I answered it,” The Doktor said. “I want something you’ve stolen from me. Namely, Witchgirl. My designs on her predate your petty little schemes. She’s mine, body and soul, and...”

It was Mason who interrupted him, quietly, as if dispensing a lesson to a child. “Listen, your voice might have a villainous timber, and the shark special effect thing was pretty clever, but as a mind controller, you’re strictly second rate. We have a much, much stronger hold over her than you do. The fact that she’s in the Matrix right now, defying your orders, is proof of that. So why don’t you just swim away into the sunset and leave us alone.”

“I’m not going to do that,” the Doktor said, his voice low and feral.

“Then it looks like we’re at an impasse,” Mason said, with a shrug of his narrow shoulders.

“Does this mean we’re going to kick his ass?” Kyle asked, “Because I’d really like to kick his ass.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it in such a vulgar way, Kyle,” Mason said, “but yes, it looks like we need to do something. If only to stop us from getting bored to death by his tedious ramblings.”

“And rescue Rich,” Kyle added, almost as an afterthought.

“Oh, yes, and rescue Rich,” Mason agreed.

As the villains talked, Witchgirl watched them the way someone might watch an especially competitive tennis match, her head moving back and forth between the participants. The expression on her beautiful, vacuous face was a new one for her—confused, puzzled, slightly dismayed. Inside her head, a tug of war was being fought. On one side, there were her programmed loyalties to the Dokter; on the other, there were her programmed feelings of devotion and servitude to the boys. Trying to resolve the two was causing no small amount of stress. Her mouth hung open slightly, as if she wanted to say something.

At first, only a sound escaped her lips. A small whine. Almost animalistic.

The Dokter and the boys stopped talking and looked in her direction. She had their attention.

“I-I-I’m confused,” she stammered. “What d-d-do I do?”

“Help us beat the pulp out of the Dokter, Betsy,” Kyle said, with a smile and a glance at Rich.

“Obey ME, Witchgirl,” the Dokter’s voice demanded.

“I want to...” she said, as she took a step to him.

“No, you don’t,” Mason said. “You want to obey me. I’m the one you want to listen to. Isn’t that right, Betsy?”

She stopped and pivoted toward Mason. “Y-y-yes,” she said. “You’re so cool. I want to listen to you. I want to obey.”

“Don’t pay any attention to him!” the Dokter yelled, and angry red swirls of energy burst around Rich’s head. His eyes glowed with psychic fire as he reached out to grab Witchgirl by her arm.

It was Kyle who stepped between them, and for a moment, it looked as if one of them was going to throw a punch, but Witchgirl caught their attention again. “Please don’t fight,” she stammered. As her breath quickened, her perfect chest rose and fell in her tight top. Even when she was upset, she couldn’t help but be incredibly sexy—the boys had redesigned her that way.

“You second rate dinosaur super villain,” Kyle said. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting her? I’m going to...” He raised his fist and stepped forward.

But there was no follow through. No punch landed. Kyle didn’t even manage to finish his words. Just like Rich, he was cut off in mid-sentence.

He was frozen, mouth open, arm raised, fist clenched tightly, standing like a statue. Witchgirl leaned forward and touched his hair, but he gave no response to show that he felt it, or that he was even aware of the world around him. “I like you better this way,” the Doktor voiced through Rich’s mouth. “And I must admit, you have a young, strong body. Stronger than this one. Perhaps I should change occupancy.” He reached out to lay hands on him.

“Don’t touch him,” Mason said, and Rich’s fingers twisted and curled into snakes that hissed and spit. Rich fell backward, his own now-transformed fingers attacking him.

“Please don’t fight. Please don’t fight,” Witchgirl kept repeating. “Please don’t. Please. No. No.” It was as if she were talking to herself. She reached around Kyle’s frozen body and hugged him from behind.

“A nice parlor trick,” the Dokter said, “but one I can correct in a moment.” He smiled and his snake-fingers shrank and grew normal again. He flexed his hands and focused his attention on Mason. “Now let’s see how you like it, hmmmmm?”

The air around Mason began to crackle with mental energy. Something was happening. He tried to counteract the attack, but it was stronger than he had expected.

“Please no,” Witchgirl kept repeating, like a broken record. “No. No. No. Please. Don’t. No fighting. No...”

Mason gritted his teeth. Ice formed on his shoulders and hands. He could see his breath. Suddenly, he was freezing on a warm beach in the middle of summer.

He couldn’t feel his toes or fingers. Not more than five feet away, Witchgirl stood dressed in nearly nothing, but he was in danger of dying from the cold. He put his hands to his throat and coughed ice, and Witchgirl’s voice called out to the Dokter, “Please no! No fighting. No! No! No!”

And suddenly the entire beach exploded with energy. But it wasn’t Mason. And it wasn’t the Dokter. It wasn’t Kyle or Rich.

It was Witchgirl. Her power was manifesting itself. And it was an awesome thing to behold. The sky turned pitch black as clouds rolled across the ocean. Except for the low rumble of the clouds, a hush covered the landscape.

“Now calm down, honey!” Kyle said, hands raised. “You’re likely to hurt somebody if you go on this way.”

The pieces of her memory were falling into place, like the tumblers of a lock. “I remember what you did to me,” she snarled. “I remember everything.”

“Then you also remember that you LOVED it,”

“Kyle, shut up,” Mason whispered through gritted teeth. “This is not good. A slave, as they say, cannot serve two masters. The internal conflict between her obedience to The Dokter and her obedience to us fractured her conditioning. She’s free—or close to it at least.”

“What should we do?” Kyle whispered back.

“Put the genii back in the bottle, so to speak. All is not lost. For all her anger and power, she’s like a cranky baby just waking from a nap. We can put her back to sleep as long as we handle her right.”

“Hey,” Kyle said. “What’s The Dokter up to?”

As they talked, the possessed Rich stepped forward and spoke in the low voice of the doctor. “Witchgirl,” he said. “It’s they who were trying to control you. I was merely trying to help you.” His hand reached out, hesitating above her shoulder, as she took a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling in her revealing costume. He smiled and nodded his head as his voice seemed to calm her. “Yes. That’s right. I tried to help you,” he said. “Remember our talks in my office? You remember my voice, don’t you? I tried to help you.”

Kyle and Mason watched in silence as his hand fell lightly on her shoulder.

“You tried...to control me!” she suddenly yelled in his face.

A wave of force knocked him backward across the beach to the edge of the water. His body made a trail in the sand, and for a moment, he lay without moving, as still as if he were dead. Then he opened his eyes and sat up, spitting sand from his mouth. “You shouldn’t have done that you little idiot,” he said. “Originally, I only hated your father. But I could imagine myself growing to hate you as well. You share the same frustrating abundance of freewill.”

“You knew my father?” she asked, and the memories of the older man began to flood her brain. She bent her head and blinked, trying to control the rush of emotions they brought with them.

A part of her wanted to just stay the way she was. Being a happy bimbo was so much simpler. There was no need to experience things like grief or loss.

The Doktor had taken this opportunity to rise to his feet. Although he was a little unsteady, he approached her, one hand raised. “I’m going to flay your mind until you have the intelligence and attitude of a dog,” he muttered, “and it’s not going to be painless. Quite the contrary.” His eyes glowed, firing her pain centers, and her body began to shake.

“S-s-stop it,” she muttered, as she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

His face twisted into a smile. “Ah, I love when they plead,” he said. “It’s so...”

Suddenly his body burst into flames. He didn’t make a sound except to say, “Oh.” He fell forward onto his knees and looked up at the sky as the fire consumed him.

“That wasn’t a plea,” Witchgirl said, still doubled over. “That was a warning.”

The Doktor fell face forward onto the sand with a thump. The flames continued to burn.

The tears came suddenly, with a quick shudder. Witchgirl was crying.

“It’s okay,” Kyle said, as he put his hand on her back. “It’s over now.” She turned to him and he wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed on his shoulder. Just a few steps away, Mason bent down and inspected the body with a look of gratification.

“Y-y-you,” she tried to say, but Kyle shushed her and patted her back.

“He’s gone now,” he said, as he squeezed her tight, “and everything’s okay.” He paused a split second before adding, “Betsy.”

“My name...my name is...” she stammered. His arms felt so good. So strong. She wanted him to keep holding her, to hold her forever.

“That’s it,” he said softly as she continued to cry. “Let it all out.”

His hand slid down to her ass. He smiled over her shoulder to Mason, who looked up from the blackened body and smiled too.

“But...” she said.

The memories were sliding away. She tried to hold onto them, but they were painful in their complexity, and part of her was glad that they were vanishing. A smile played across her lips when Kyle gave her ass a small pat.

“She did our work for us,” Mason said softly as he walked over. “The Doktor won’t be causing us any more trouble.”

“And Rich?” Kyle asked, as he rubbed her ass.

Mason shrugged. “A small price to pay.”

The thoughts seemed to be pouring out of her mind. It was a good feeling. But, with one last surge of will, she plugged the dam.

“Get...your...hand...off...my...ass...” she said.

“But Betsy...” Kyle said.

“My name is Laurie,” she said. “Witchgirl to you.”

She gave him a hard shove and he stumbled back.

“Witchgirl,” he snarled. “Just think for a second about what you’re throwing away. True happiness. A life without even the smallest worry. We can give that to you.”

“You’d make me happy if you just shut-up,” he said, and she spin-kicked him. He ducked to one side, raised his arms in defense, and crouched down in karate posture.

“Ah,” he said. “So this is how it’s going to be. Head-to-head. Okay. But when it’s all said and done you’re going to be on your hands and knees begging to be Betsy again.”

A look of uncertainly crossed Witchgirl’s beautiful face. Then she stepped forward and swung at him.

He deflected the blow easily, and the next too, and the one after that, until it seemed like this would go on forever: her striking, him parrying. But the fifth blow connected, and the sixth as well, more solidly to his shoulder, until he was back peddling away from her. “Mason!” he said. “I need some help here.”

“I’m not the physical type,” he said nonchalantly. “This whole exercise is vulgar to me. It’s all I can do to watch.”

It was the tenth blow that did it. It connected solidly to his neck and knocked Kyle to the ground. Witchgirl spread her legs and looked him over, hardly breathing hard. “Now who’s on his hands and knees, eh?” she said. “To tell you the truth, you’re a better lover than a fighter, Kyle. All talk and no action.”

Her costume had changed, becoming the familiar black catsuit and belt she favored. Her will was beginning to exercise more control over her surroundings. She felt good. “Get up,” she said. ““Let’s tussle a little more.”

He looked up at her. His expression was frightened. A scared little boy. Her heart skipped a beat. “Y-y-you hurt me,” he said.

He seemed to smile for a split second. Then it was gone.

She lowered her arms. “I’m sorry,” she said. He looked SO scared. Of her. There was something horrible about that.

Her costume shifted again. The neckline dipped and peeled off her shoulders. It lightened from black to gray and then to white. She took a step forward and bent down, reaching out her hand to Kyle—cute Kyle—and saying, “Are you okay?”

Mason was standing behind her now. He touched a single finger to the back of her head and her mouth slackened. She had a small thought. “Oh!” Then everything went blank.

“Well, it’s about time...” Kyle said.

Her back arched backward at an odd angle, one arm stretched forward, eyes wide. Mason tapped his finger against her head and her costume shifted again, changing color from white to pink. It began to tighten, showing off the definition in her thighs and stomach. “There we go,” he said. “There we go...”

“Mmm,” she said.

Kyle had risen to his feet. “Not so tough now, are you?” he asked her.

“Mmm,” she said again.

“She’s still resisting,” Mason said. “I can feel it. But it shouldn’t be a problem. Damn that Dokter for his interference. If not for him we would have had her easily. Now we’re going to have to reprogram her from the ground up. It’s going to take weeks of extra work...”

“That’s the kind of work I enjoy,” Kyle said. “I have a new idea for a scenario involving...”

A hand flashed out and grabbed him by the neck. “Grrk,” he said, as he was cut off in mid-sentence. Like a prizefighter on his last legs, Witchgirl had tapped into some small reserve of will force to break Mason’s hold. She spun and grabbed him too, with her left hand.

“That’s enough,” she said. “No more.”

She slammed their heads together and they slumped to the ground. An old fashioned technique, maybe, considering the possibilities open to her in the Matrix, and maybe it was a little “Three Stooges”, but man, it was VERY satisfying.

She looked down at them as her costume changed back once again. She couldn’t help but feel a small tug at her heart again, but she fought it back, swallowed it the way she might gulp down something distasteful.

With both hands in the air, she made a couple of gestures with her fingers. “This spell will effectively ‘neuter’ your abilities for the foreseeable future, gentlemen. You’ll still be able to move freely through the Matrix, but you won’t be able to influence it even in the smallest way. You won’t be able to change the color of your shirt, let alone the ocean, Mason. And Kyle, when seducing people, you’ll have to get by on your natural charm, which we both know is non-existent. Things are going to be tough for you.”

“As for Rich,” she continued, with a wave of her hand. “He’s okay. Just a little shaken up. As you know, not many things in the Matrix are as they appear to be.”

Rich’s blackened body slowly returned to normal and he sat up groggily, looking around. Other than his tousled hair and sand on his clothes, he looked perfectly fine.

Colored lights glowed around the heads of the boys as they glared up at her. Then the lights faded and the spell was complete. She waved good-bye to them. “And now that my mission is FINALLY accomplished,” she said, “I have to go.”

She vanished, leaving them to do all the things defeated super-villains do—curse their bad luck, wonder where their plans went wrong, and think about new schemes for that day they might cause trouble for the heroine once again.

As she jerked to consciousness in the real world, Witchgirl heard all three boys screaming out for her to come back.

PROLOGUE

Witchgirl pivoted to one side and looked into her best friend’s eyes. Genna smiled back, her hand on Witchgirl’s bare thigh. “Welcome back to the real world, baby,” she said.

“Genna,” she said. “I beat them. I beat them all. I...” She stopped and looked herself over. She was dressed in a tight one-piece costume, cut low to reveal her perfectly inflated breasts. The bottom of the costume was cut in a g-string shape. The sight of it—the vision of her own provocatively dressed body—puzzled her. Wasn’t this what she had just escaped from? “Genna...” she whispered, though pink lips.

“Hush,” Genna said, “It’s okay. They’re all gone now. I played them off against each other, and when you needed it, I gave you the extra strength that you needed to defeat them.” She put a hand on the belt of Witchgirl’s neck and began to rub. “But you don’t need to be strong anymore. Now you can just relax.”

“Genna...” she said again, as he half-closed her eyes. It was so hard to think. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“You’re mine now,” Genna said. “All mine. I don’t have to share you with anybody.”

“But...but...”

“You’d be lost with me,” Genna said.

Something clicked in Witchgirl’s mind. Yes. Genna. She loved Genna SO much. It was the biggest crush ever in the history of crushes. Big as the ocean. And she wanted to dive in. But something still nagged at her like a mosquito, some little annoying worry. What was it? Maybe she should ask Genna.

“But...”

“You’d be lost without me.”

Oh God it felt so good! She felt so smooth and awesome all over and she wanted to rub her chest against Genna and share the pleasure. She pushed herself forward and their lips met and they kissed, then separated, and then kissed again.

“You’d be lost without me.”

Oh yeah! She had to kiss her again. The crush was so big it was impossible to keep it inside and Genna OWNED her completely, from the tips of her toes to the tips of the nipples of her super awesome tingling big boobies to the tip of her nose.

Genna laughed as Witchgirl slid against her. “C’mon. You can say it. You know you want to.”

“Oh, Genna,” Witchgirl said. “I’d be lost without you.”

“Great,” she said. “I knew you could do it.”

The kiss seemed like it would go on forever.