The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

mc, fd, mf

synopsis: a misplaced call is all it takes for Leo Donovan’s life to change forever.

Wrong Number

(by S.B.)

The phone rang harshly in the cold night, turning what was supposed to be a quiet moment into something restless, confusing and indistinct. Leo Donovan’s right arm jumped instinctively at the minuscule black communication device, his half-sleepy eyes suspended on the screen’s flashing light, wherein, the promise of a familiar number failed to meet his expectations.

Whoever was calling him had chosen the sanctity of anonymity, a privilege he was tempted to deny by refusing to answer. However, the chances of that happening were quite small, not coming even close to the spark of curiosity already ignited within his mind… He sat on the bed, using a fluffy pillow behind him to support his sore back and, with both legs trying to accommodate themselves properly in the midst of the convoluted mass of sheets and blankets, pressed “green” to go…

“Yes” he muttered, hesitantly. It wasn’t the most courteous way to begin a phone conversation but, then again, causing someone to return in haste from the soothing realm of slumber, didn’t qualify as something worthy of record either.

The strange, feminine voice on the other end cracked in like a lightning bringing along an impossible question:

“Are you on your knees already and salivating for your owner, my slavishly obedient pet?”

Leo just couldn’t believe his ears. “Excuse me?!!!” he blurted. “Who is this? Who am I talking to?”

“You know very well who it is, servant! Is that the way to address your Mistress? I’m going to punish for your insolence if you don’t retract yourself and say out loud the mantra of your devotion to me.”

“Look, lady, I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re trying to play here, but I’m no one’s slave and the only mantra I feel like reciting at this late hour is: Fuck off!. You clearly got the wrong number! I suggest you find the right one and go act all kinky Domme with somebody else, okay? Good night!”

And, just like that, he hung up the phone, hoping to fall asleep as quickly as possible. The irksome phone rang six more times in the following minutes, but he ignored it until the deluded bitch on the other end of the line gave up.

The return of silence left him relieved, but also a bit suspicious. What exactly had happened there and why were his guts trying to warn him that something dangerous might be afoot?

With the tension that settled inside his mind, sleep eventually became a fleeting fantasy and Leo found himself mulling about it, over and over again, like a riddle lover that doesn’t know when to stop. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

In the apartment below, Jonathan Carver also heard his phone ring. He sat on the couch, eating greasy popcorns and watching a Wrestling match on Pay-Per-View and, for a moment, hesitated on whether he should answer it or now. Something inside him was stirring him to do so, though… that call was important, very, very important.

The moment he finally succumbed to the mental urge was also the moment when part of his brain stopped working, his autonomy replaced by programmed triggers and commands:

“Are you on your knees already and salivating for your owner, my slavishly obedient pet?” asked the voice of the one who had conditioned him to mindless servitude more than six months ago.

He knelt religiously before answering:

“Yes, my Mistress. I’m yours to command. How can this unworthy thrall serve you, tonight?”

She went straight to the point. “I need information, slave! A couple of minutes ago, I seem to have made a mistake and called someone else in your building, instead. It was a man with a rough voice and a Northern accent of sorts. Do you happen to know who this person is?”

“By that description, it can only be Leo Donovan, Mistress. He lives on 5B, right above me and his phone number is very similar to mine, indeed. Only the last number is different. Mine is a 6 and his a 9, if I’m not mistaken,” He responded right away, without hesitation.

“Hmmm… very well. What more do you know about him? Is he of the inquisitive type? Someone distrustful that might be tempted to investigate the nature of the call he received from me?”

“I believe so, Mistress. He’s a former Private Detective, after all. He’s always on the lookout for something strange in the building and surrounding blocks, and his instincts are usually right.”

Her tone became darker. She was obviously displeased. “That might be a problem, one I want you to fix right away. Do you still have one of those vials I gave you the last time you serviced me in person, slave?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“Then, you know what to do. Prepare a syringe and go to that neighbor of yours with a story of an attempted burglary or something. Then, when you get a chance, inject him with it, and call me right away.”

“As you wish, Mistress!” Jonathan droned, not once doubting that her will was the only law in the world that made sense. When the phone went dead, he got up, prepared the drug as instructed, and put on his best actor face to confront his neighbor.

* * *

“Leo, LEO!!!” Jonathan pounded the door, furiously. “Please, I need your help!!!”

Leo rushed to the door in his pajamas and opened it, already carrying a big baseball bat in his right hand.

“Jonathan? What’s the matter, buddy?” he asked, wrinkles over his furry brow.

“I was about to enter my place when I saw the door slightly open…” he mumbled. “I think someone is in there right now!”

“Have you called the police, yet?”

“No. If there’s really someone in there, I want to deal with him first, before the cops arrive. Beat the crap out of him for his audacity, with no questions asked…. You get it, right? That’s why I need your help.”

“Okay.” Leo grinned, swinging the bat upwards. “This baby is in need of some action, anyway. Lead the way and let’s kick some ass!”

Slowly, they descended into Jonathan’s apartment. Leo peeked in, saw a couple of things trashed in the living room and entered very carefully, but also ready to crack a skull or two. His neighbor followed right behind him, armed with a fire poker and holding something else inside his closed fist.

Everything was quiet and, despite the obvious signs of vandalism, there was no sign of the perpetrator anywhere. Leo’s mind immediately perceived the danger when he caught a glimpse of Jonathan getting ready to hit him with the poker, and moved swiftly to avoid the impact. Nonetheless, he still got hit in the arm, and his baseball bat went flying across the room.

“What the… Jonathan, what are you doing?” Leo grumbled as his neighbor became his worst enemy and hit him again, this time in the right leg. The sudden pain made him falter, lose momentum and strength. When the third blow came, he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

As he collapsed on the green carpet, he saw his neighbor playing with the syringe whilst saying:

“I’m sorry, but she instructed me to do it, and I have to obey!”

Soon, the liquid was being pumped into his veins. At first, Leo Donovan’s consciousness became a blurry mess and then, nothing more than a gaping black hole.

* * *

He was still under the effects of the narcoleptic substance when a latex-gloved hand grabbed his chin. It belonged to a slender woman, wearing a clingy catsuit that was as blue as the color of her eyes. Her dark hair was tied in an elaborate ponytail and she held a flogger with malefic intentions.

Leo was naked, completely exposed before her, tied to a metal cross that could be suspended at will. A tight cone made of highly conductive polymers, and with all sorts of wiring coming out of its tip, exerted an enormous pressure over his engorged cock. This cone was, in turn, connected to a series of pumps next to his feet, as well as a small console that seemed to operate the whole contraption.

“Where… am… I?” he articulated with great difficulty.

“In the place where I’m going to drain your cock and your mind at the same time!” The dangerous Mistress without a name exclaimed in-between slightly sinister laughs. “When I’m done, the next time I call you, you’ll be on your hands and knees, eager to obey my will no matter what….”

“Never… you bitch!”

“That’s Mistress Bitch to you, worthless wanker! Let’s get the show started, shall we?”

She flipped a switch, pressed two buttons, and the powerful pumps started working in unison as jolts of electricity coursed through his body. Drain, shock, drain, shock, drain, shock… a stunningly accurate display of rhythm and precision that induced ever increasing numbness and the joy of being a puppet to another.

Sometimes, it was just a matter of hours. Others needed extra incentives through longer periods of time, but everyone fell in the end.

Leo Donovan withstood her control for over four and a half days before he sank down to lick her stiletto boots. It’s still a record in her stable.

* * *

A couple of months later, Damien Hardiman received a call from a woman that claimed she owned him, and that it was time to obey. Without wavering, he hung up and never thought about it, ever again.

Little did he know that, across the city, a very wicked seductress was already lost in lustful thoughts:

“Another wrong number? Oh well, one can never have enough drooling pets….”