The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Richard Alpert’s hands shook. His heart pounded. Sweat trickled down his back.

Zusa observed her nervous subject and smiled. With a movement calculated to subvert and break his will, she extended her graceful hand. A shiny red fingernail pointed to the floor.

No words were necessary. Over the weeks and months, the repeated hypnosis sessions and brain washings had robbed Richard of his free will. He instantly and automatically dropped to his knees.

He swallowed hard looked up at her reverently. Zusa wore a white blouse, brown micro-skirt, dark stocking and black knee-high boots. Her blonde hair fell loosely about her shoulders, and dark-rimmed librarian-style glasses framed intense blue eyes. Gazing at this vision of loveliness, Richard felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces, their sharp edges cutting away at his soul.

“What did you bring me, my toy?” Her commanding voice echoed in his empty mind.

He bowed his head, so that he could only see the shiny pointed toes of her boots. He reached into his suit jacket, removed this wallet, and offered it up to her.

Exhilaration filled him as he felt the wallet lift from his hand. Never had he felt so alive. His breath grew rapid and shallow as he heard her rifle its contents. When the empty wallet fell to the floor, a paroxysm of ecstasy seized his body.

“I am pleased with your offering, my toy.”

Richard was filled with rapturous joy. He wanted, needed to please her. That was his sole purpose. And he had achieved it.

“But now our play time is over.”

Her words came like a kick to the stomach. He chanced raising his eyes to look upon her. “Please, Zusa, I don’t want to go. I adore you. I love you. I need you.”

“Of course, you do.” She laughed. “But I have what I want.” She waved the bills in his face. “And I’m bored now. Time to find a new toy to play with.”

“But you can’t d—”

She raised her hand and Richard could no longer speak. “I can do whatever I want.” With a flick of her wrist, he found himself frozen in place, staring into her eyes. They seemed to grow darker now, a deep shade of blue like the sky before a terrible storm.

Unable to look away, he found himself growing weaker and weaker, as if her eyes were somehow stealing away his strength. His eyelids fluttered; he was barely conscious.

“Sleep now!” Zusa snapped her fingers twice.

Richard’s eyes slammed shut, and he plummeted into icy darkness.

He tumbled over and over into the void, somersaulting into a timeless world. A world of emptiness, worthlessness, purposelessness. The nothingness spread like a virus through his body, his mind, his soul. And when it was done, when it had consumed all that was, all the dreams and hopes and aspirations that made up the man called Richard Alpert, when it had chewed up and spit out his very essence, that’s when he emerged from the void.

He became aware. Not like waking up. More like he was daydreaming and just now returned to reality.

He was standing in an empty room. No furnishings and no exits. That didn’t seem right, but he couldn’t remember where he should be.

He realized he couldn’t remember where he’d been before. And couldn’t remember his name.

He was wearing a suit and tie like he was dressed for business, but he had no memory of employment. He searched his pockets. Empty: no wallet, keys or phone. No ring on his finger or watch on his wrist. He felt like he was the kind of person who would wear a fancy watch.

He walked to the closest wall and ran his hand along it. Varnished wood. He placed his ear to the wall. Nothing. He wrapped his knuckles. Solid. He walked around the perimeter, tapping with his finger all the way, always the same solid sound.

He looked up. The top was open, no ceiling. The walls were too high, too slick to scale. Light shown from above, but the source was not visible.

With nothing left to explore, he laid down in the corner. He loosened his tie and took off his jacket, balling it into a pillow.

The hours wore on as he sat in quiet contemplation of his predicament. Just as he drifted off to sleep, he ears filled with the sound of triumphant female laughter.

He was shaken from his sleep.

“Where are we?” asked a man in green hospital scrubs. A stethoscope hung from his neck.

“Where did you come from?” he asked the doctor.

The doctor said, “I don’t know. I just found myself here.”

“Me, too.” He nodded. “Can you remember your name? Anything from before?”

The doctor shook his head. “No. Nothing.” He grabbed the end of a stethoscope. “I guess I’m a doctor.”

“Guess, I’ll call you Doc.”

Doc observed the other man’s clothes. “Fancy suit. You could be a lawyer, a CEO, or a hedge fund manager.”

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

“So, what do I call you?” asked the Doctor.

“Sam? It’s as good as any other name.”

The doctor grinned. “Okay, Sam it is.” He waved his hand about. “What is this place? How long have you been here?”

“I have no idea.” Sam shook his head. “There doesn’t seem to be any way out. The walls are too high and steep to climb.”

“Could we be in some sort of prison?” asked Doc.

Sam shrugged.

“Or an asylum?”

“You’re the doctor. But what are the odds that we’d both have amnesia?”

“Hmm. How about shared psychosis? That’s an interesting diagnosis.” The doctor rubbed his chin. “Do they feed us? What about food and water?”

Sam swallowed hard. “I don’t think I’ve been hungry or thirsty since I’ve been here.”

“Maybe we’re dead?”

“And this is what? Hell? Purgatory?” asked Sam.

“One way to find out.” Doc slipped the end of the stethoscope under his shirt. “We’re alive. Good steady heartbeat.”

That ‘night’ Doc picked the corner across from Sam to sleep in. As they both drifted off, once again haughty female laughter filled the air.

Sam awoke to find a third person standing at the far end of the room. A redheaded woman in a slinky green gown with a slit to show off her improbably long legs.

“Doc!” he called. And pointed to the woman.

As they approached her, Sam could see her hair was styled elaborately and her make-up was perfect. Objectively he knew she was beautiful, on the scale of a supermodel. But he felt no attraction to her, no lust or arousal.

“Don’t come near me,” said the woman.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” said Doc.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“We’re not sure. I’m Doc. This is the Sam.”

“I don’t remember my name,” she said.

“We don’t either. We just made those up,” said Sam.

She frowned. “I’m guess I’ll be Jennifer.”

“Where the Hell are we?” barked a man in green military jumpsuit.

Sam, Doc and Jennifer rose from the respective corners and came to the center of the room to meet the newest arrival.

“We’re not sure, Major,” said Sam.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know I’m a Major?”

Sam pointed. “Oak leaves on your collar.”

“Ah.” The Major nodded. “So, what’s the sitrep?”

Sam shrugged. “None of us has any memory or who we are or how we got here. I’m Sam. He’s Doc. And this is Jennifer. Those names are all made up.”

“Maybe this is an attempt to break us,” said the Major. “Psychological warfare to wear us down and learn some valuable information.”

“But we don’t remember anything,” said Jennifer.

“I guess why we’re here doesn’t really matter,” said the Major. “We should work on an escape plan.”

“How?” said Doc. “There’s no way out of here.”

“Whoever put us in here, must have gotten back out. There has to be a way,” said the Major.

Sam shook his head. “We’ve been over every inch of this place. There’s no exit. We have nothing to cut or saw through the walls. And they’re impossible to climb.”

The major looked at the walls and back to three. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” asked Doc.

“There are four of us. Standing on one another’s shoulders and using our clothes as a rope, you might make it over the top.” He pointed a Jennifer.

“Me?” said Jennifer. “Why me?”

“You’re the lightest.”

The major in his skivvies braced himself against the wall. Sam got on all fours, Doc, also in his underwear, stood on his back and climbed on to the major’s shoulders.

Sam got up and squinted. “I don’t know. It doesn’t look like we’re even halfway there.”

“I won’t tolerate a negative attitude,” snapped the Major. “That’s why we made the rope.”

In Jennifer’s hands she held a rope made of her gown, the major’s jumpsuit, Sam’s jacket and tie, and the Doc’s scrubs.

“You’re next, Sam,” ordered the Major.

Jennifer knelt down and grunted as Sam stepped on her back. He scrambled up, putting his foot in the Major’s face. With considerable effort, he climbed up on Doc’s shoulders.

“Hurry,” the Major said to Jennifer. “I’m not sure how long I can hold this.”

Jennifer in just her bra and panties, climbed on top of the major. Her first attempt to ascend Doc sent her tumbling to the floor. So did her second attempt. On her third try she took her time. With slow deliberation she was eventually able to stand on Sam’s shoulders. “I can’t reach the top!” she yelled. “It’s too far!”

“Toss the rope. See if you can snag something!” the Major shouted back.

Jennifer wound the rope like a lasso and let it fly over the top of the wall. She pulled on it, but it didn’t snag anything and the other end tumbled to the floor.

“Try again,” said the Major.

Another failure.

“Keep at it!” said Doc.

“Try it on an angle,” suggested Sam.

Jennifer aimed to the side rather than straight up. As she tossed the rope, she lost her balance. She and the rest of the group came tumbling down with a thud.

“Everyone, okay?” asked Sam.

“Doc, check everyone out,” said the Major. “Make they’re no broken bones before we try again.”

“Again?” said Sam. “This plan won’t work.”

“Have you got a better idea?” said the Major.

“No.” Sam shook his head.

“Then we’ll keep trying until you do.”

“Maybe the Major’s wrong.” said Jennifer.

“You have a plan?” asked the Major.

“No, not about the plan,” said Jennifer. “You said it didn’t matter why we were here. Maybe it does. Maybe if we can figure out why we’re here and what they want from us, that will give us the answers we need.”

“We’ve been over it,” said Doc. “A prison, an asylum, a POW camp. But with bare walls, there’s no way we can figure it out.”

Loud female laughter thundered from above.

“Look out!” shouted the major.

A giant woman’s hand, with shiny red fingernails and silver bracelets on its wrist, reached down from above.

The four tried to scramble away, but the hand was too fast and grabbed Jennifer.

“Help me!” she cried.

With nothing more than their hands and fists, the men attacked the hand. Their efforts were in vain. The hand whisked Jennifer up and out of the room, her cries fading in the distance.

“What the Hell did we just see?” asked the Major.

“We are in an asylum,” said Doc. “That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Zusa looked down at the girl shivering in her underwear. “What happened to your pretty gown?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, Mistress.”

“I don’t know, Mistress,” said the girl.

“Better.” Zusa smiled. “I decided to play with you today. So be my good girl. If you bore me or anger me, I’ll put you away and find someone else to play with.”

The girl shook her head. “Oh, no Mistress.” The girl bowed her head. “I promise to amuse and delight you. Please don’t put me back in the toy chest.”