The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alexis slammed the cover on yet another textbook, her eyes and mind fatigued beyond exhaustion. The thud echoed through the medical library, but it was Thanksgiving weekend and nobody else was around except one international student moonlighting as a librarian. She was asleep behind the desk, and didn’t wake up.

Finals were two weeks away. Presently she was preparing for her introductory anatomy class and was trying to learn the carpal system, but she was nowhere close to where she needed to be. “Some Lovers Try Positions That They Cannot Handle,” she murmured to herself for the fiftieth time. “So that’s scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum, pisiform… pisiform…” She moaned in despair, again unable to retain the next terms. And that was just the names! Forget their function, common disorders, diagnostic techniques…

It was inevitable; she had begun to accept this. She was going to flunk out of med school, forced to retreat back home and live with her mom and step-dad, Carl. She didn’t even know what then. Her mother had been a high-school dropout, but a beauty; that had been enough to find her a steady stream of men to help her keep food on the table. Alexis was a mousy little thing, flat-chested, befreckled, with frizzy hair and glasses. She couldn’t even find guys willing to study with her, much less anything more intimate.

She had increasingly come to realize she just didn’t have the brains to make it through college. Pre-med was a demanding major, of course, but Alexis was getting C’s or worse in all of her classes. High school had been easy—she’d just had to work hard, every night, study her butt off, and she’d made straight A’s. No problem. College classes, though… it was like her teachers had said. It was hard. Soon her grades would cost her her scholarships, and she couldn’t afford it without them. Lord knew her mom and Carl couldn’t. She’d go home, and wind up a secretary or assistant night shift manager at Wendy’s.

“Scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum, pisiform… DAMNIT!” she wailed, pounding a fist on the table.

“Trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate,” said a woman’s voice over her shoulder.

Alexis spun around, blinking back her tears of despair. Standing behind her was a woman she wouldn’t describe as beautiful, though she was; everything about her, however, screamed of raw sex appeal. She had long golden blonde hair, flawless skin, perfectly sculpted dimples framing a million-watt smile, and, currently right about Alexis’ eye level, more breast meat than a KFC. They were barely concealed behind a fashionable square-neck sweater that was just south of slutty.

“Oh, sorry—I didn’t realize anyone else was in here,” she apologized, sniffling.

“Heavens no—I was just out and about seeing what other bibliophiles might be haunting these hallowed halls by night.”

“Bibli… what was that?” Alexis frowned.

“Bibliophiles,” the woman replied. Her voice was a deep, rich purr of a thing; she’d clean up as a phone sex operator. And be the first one to look as good as she sounded. “It means lovers of books. Greek roots, you know.”

Alexis nodded, inwardly wondering if this new word would kick out the ones she’d been studying. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. But look, I’m in the middle of studying, so if you don’t mind…”

“Mind? I’d think you’d be the one who minded—not meaning to be intrusive, but you seem to be having a difficult time of it.”

Alexis glared at her stack of books. “There’s an understatement for you.”

“I used to have the same problem. I have surface dyslexia, actually —terrible time reading my whole life. Until recently, anyway—I was offered a way out, and ever since then I read all the time, as much as I can.” She sat down on the table; her skirt was tight over her perfectly curved hips, brushing up against Alexis’ arm. She blushed a little at the casual contact.

“A cure? Ma’am, I know I’m not a doctor yet, but I’m pretty sure they haven’t cured dyslexia,” she said, nervous about being wrong. This woman seemed so confident, it was difficult to contradict her.

“Well, it’s not really widely disseminated as yet, nor is the cure specific to that particular neurological disorder,” the woman explained patiently, not without a little condescension. “It’s actually just a simple treatment that helps the brain actualize its dormant potential.”

Alexis’ eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait. You’re not talking about…”

“Atroneurinol,” the woman supplied.

“You mean… upstairoids?” Alexis asked.

The woman laughed. “Yes, I’ve heard them referred to by that street name. Clever, in a rather juvenile fashion, the embedded pun.”

“I heard those are really bad for you. Aren’t they dangerous?”

The woman folded her arms across her prodogious chest, the picture of an adult who would brook no nonsense from a child, though she hardly looked much older than Alexis. “Now Alexis, do I look like the sort of person who’s strung out on dangerous drugs?”

Alexis looked at her; her gorgeous looks aside, she indeed seemed very in control of herself. But wait… “How did you know my name?”

“It’s written on the cover of your notebook, and I have high visual acuity. Now answer my question.”

Alexis shook her head. “That’s right,” the woman continued, “I don’t. This simple pill has made me into a new woman, revitalized and envigorated in mind, body and spirit.”

The girl lowered her voice, afraid to be caught talking about drugs even if no one was around to overhear. “So it works as good as they say?”

The woman smiled. “Would you care for a demonstration? Better than the simple assurances of a stranger, no doubt.” She picked up one of Alexis’ textbooks and opened it to a random page, perusing for mere seconds before handing it over to Alexis, open to the same page.

“The third full paragraph down reads…” and the woman recited it, flawlessly. It was a lengthy paragraph full of a bunch of medical jargon about causes of inflamation in the spine, and she didn’t miss a single word. She didn’t even stumble over pronunciations.

“Holy shit!” Alexis marveled as she finished. “That was… that can’t be possible!”

The woman shrugged. “Not even difficult, really, though I feel obliged to share with you that I memorized that in a few minutes before walking over here, carried it over behind my back and set it with your books. You didn’t notice? I thought not.”

Alexis tried let it show on her face how stupid she felt falling for the ruse. “Wow. Well still, that’s not easy to memorize. And a good trick, too—I never would’ve noticed.”

“Not easy for some; for someone whose brain is augmented by atroneurinol, relatively simple. Besides, when I found myself struggling to begin the next sentence, I just read it backwards off the reflection in your glasses,” she said blithely.

“You… but… that’s…” Alexis sputtered, trying to keep up.

The woman went on talking right over her, ignoring Alexis’ sputtering. “Which is not to say that atroneurinol possesses no side effects, either, but I find them not to interfere with my day-to-day, and in many ways they even enhance the experience.”

“Side effects? Like what?” Alexis asked.

The woman sighed, looking offended at having to explain things to a simpleton. “It might have somehow escaped your notice that this is a sales pitch, Alexis. A sales pitch for an illegal controlled substance. And you’re asking the person peddling it to you to outline possible negative consequences? Surely a girl as smart as yourself would prefer to do her own research?” It was phrased as a question, but clearly wasn’t. Still, Alexis mumbled something to the effect of seeing the sense of it.

Alexis stared goggle-eyed as the woman reached down into the vast canyon of her cleavage and produced a tiny scrap of paper. On it was only the name Kendra and a phone number, and nothing else. “Well you pursue your studies, Alexis, do some independent research, and then, if your interest in what I’m offering persists, contact me.”

Alexis said she’d think about it. But deep in her subconscious, her mind was already made up.

Atroneurinol, street name upstairoids, Alexis read, perusing the lengthy article on the FDA’s website. She was back in her dorm room, which she had to herself while her roommate Jana was home for break. She took notes out of a habit formed from copious research. It had a photo of the pill and listed a typical dosage in milligrams, a drawing of a man with a pronouncedly large cranium writing complex formulae on a whiteboard.

While the site didn’t have conclusive information on the drug’s addictiveness, it did note that it seemed to have addictive properties. Some users continue to abuse the drug despite negative physical and social effects. Upstairoid users spend significant amounts of time and money to acquire additional doses, and some users report withdrawal symptoms. Nothing damning, to Alexis’ mind; after all, some people reported those same kinds of problems with lots of fairly innocuous drugs.

She scrolled down to the section on how it worked. It wasn’t written in laymen’s terms, but whatever her inadequacies—for now, that is—she could follow it pretty well. It delivered a chemical to the brain that affects different parts of the cerebellum. It causes substantial growth in the frontal lobe, allowing for much greater ability to take in information and building up the brain’s powers to pass information from the working memory to the long-term memory areas, as well as helping to recall long-term memories more readily. It also affected the hypothalamus and the attached pituitary gland, producing some of the physical symptoms noted below. Alexis poured over it, intrigued at the prospect of how much more powerful her mind could become.

She read to the end of that section, following several of the supplementary links in the process, and got to the section labeled Side Effects. They were significant, it warned, and she supposed it was unsurprising. Since the brain controlled the entire body, introducing chemicals that targeted the nervous system was bound to have some unintended consequences.

Some of the side effects associated with abuse of atroneurinol include:

• epidermic and follicular alterations
• diminished paranoia
• tissue enlargement and reduction
• mood swings
• voice raising in pitch
• submissive behavior
• loss of body hair
• elevated sex drive

She frowned at it, wishing they went into more details. What the heck did “diminished paranoia” mean? Was it somehow bad to walk around not thinking everyone was out to get you? Many of these side-effects seemed non-threatening. As for the ones that were a little more troubling, she tried to think if any of them were more frightening than flunking out of college. With a finality, she decided none of these sounded as bad as that, and picked up the phone.

Less than an hour later, she was waiting at the rendezvous spot behind the medical school library. Alexis’ scrawny body was wrapped up tight in a heavy coat as she waited, nervous that this could all be some sort of set-up by a scholarship committee to catch her in a misdeed. Where’s the diminished paranoia when you need it? Her heart was hammering in her chest as she saw Kendra’s lithe, sexy body sauntering down the way at an idle pace, clearly unfazed by the clandestine nature of their meet-up. Not only wasn’t she wearing a coat, she was dressed like this forty-something degree day was a summer heat wave. Her legs were bared to the point that Alexis had no doubt that if she looked at her from behind she’d see her ass cheeks hanging out of the short shorts she was wearing. Beyond that, nothing but a white tank top with spaghetti straps (and no bra straps to speak of beneath). Her nipples pointed proudly through the thin fabric, and Alexis was incredulous that anyone’s breasts could be so large and still defy gravity the way they did.

Clearly, she thought, the woman had put her drug-peddling income into a boob job. As if the rest of her weren’t already flawless.

Alexis waved as she got close. “Aren’t you freezing?”

Kendra waved a hand dismissively. “I’m perfectly comfortable. I’m parked nearby, and my car has heated seats. Besides, there are Zen techniques I’ve mastered for controlling my body’s response to atmospheric stimuli.”

“Oh,” Alexis said dumbly, unsure how to respond to that.

“But on to the business at hand. You’ve decided to improve yourself, Alexis? Very bold of you—and very smart. Not as smart as you’ll be soon, but smart.”

“Not so fast,” Alexis said. “I have some questions.”

“By all means, ask them,” Kendra offered patiently.

“First off, how do I know what you’re offering me is the real thing? No offense, but I don’t even know you.”

The top-heavy blonde nodded. “Of course. Clearly we lack the sort of equipment, and you likely lack the necessary background in chemistry, to run analytics on my product that would satisfy you. So to the end of building up trust, why don’t you just buy a small dosage now and, if you find it to your satisfaction, you contact me again and we’ll continue our relationship from there.”

Alexis considered a moment, decided it was reasonable enough and agreed. “Next, and I guess pretty important… how much does it cost? I, um, don’t have a lot of money.”

Kendra frowned slightly. It looked odd on her angelic face. “Well. The smallest quantity of atroneurinol I deal in is a two-week supply. That’s fourteen pills at $40 per pill.” She tired of watching Alexis attempt the mental math in a few second. “$700.”

Alexis tried not to let it show on her face that that sum represented most of the money she had to last her through the end of the semester. She certainly couldn’t afford to keep buying more at that rate. Her heart sank. “I can’t swing that much. I wish I could, but… I just don’t have enough. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

As she turned to shuffle away, Kendra put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Hold on now, Alexis. That price is for the premium, top-of-the-line 0% impurity version of the drug. That’s the one I take. But it’s not the only one. I certainly recommend the best, but… well, a Mercedes isn’t the automobile for every budget. I also deal in another variety… it’s not as pure so the effects won’t be as immediate, but it’s still a substantial improvement over none at all.”

Alexis turned back to look at her, hope returning. “How much is that one?”

“Two-week supply, $300. I usually charge a bit more, but perhaps a discount is in order for a product not so highly recommended, to a new client whose trust I’ve yet to earn.”

The desperate girl clapped her hands gleefully at the news, and hurriedly fished the money out of her purse, handing it over without reservation. The only thought in her head was of a triumphant finals week. Kendra fished a hand into her interior jacket pocket and brought out a ziploc baggy of little pink pills. They didn’t look like they had on the website, but then, Alexis just figured that was the purer brand.

Kendra smiled. “Now remember, just one pill a day. This is a psychotropic chemical, so it may take three to four weeks before results are noticeable. Be patient.”

Alexis started. “Three to four weeks! By then, finals will be over! I need the boost now!”

“Not my problem, Alexis.” Kendra shrugged disinterestedly and turned to leave, calling back over her shoulder. “You want more, you give me a call.”

Alexis swallowed the first pill the minute she got home, though she was still fuming. Minutes ticked by, but she felt nothing. Obviously. This was so unfair! She needed results right now. She paced back and forth angrily, though she didn’t know at what or who. It wasn’t Kendra’s fault she hadn’t asked before she’d paid. It wasn’t the drug manufacturer’s fault it didn’t act more quickly. There was no one to be mad at, which just made her madder.

It was at least an hour before she calmed down enough to start thinking it through, and from there, it was only a few minutes of deliberation before she swallowed another pill. Then another, just to be sure. Would four really be so bad? If it took four weeks and she wanted to feel it in one… what the hell. She popped another.

To establish a baseline, she found an online memory test that seemed serviceable enough; it randomized words and asked her to repeat them in order after a delay, rating test-takers on their speed and accuracy. She scored a 103, whatever that meant; a spreadsheet was quickly prepared to record the data as days passed. Overnight nothing terrible happened from the pills, so the hopeful girl did the same thing the next day, and again the day after. Her scores went up slightly to a 105 Saturday and 106 Sunday, though she was pretty sure that was just from repetition of the task. Still, it gave her some hope.

Jana returned home late Sunday night. They exchanged superficial chit-chat about how their Thanksgiving weekends had gone, then turned in for the night. They weren’t very close, and had been matched as roommates randomly. Jana was attractive, a bit striking, really; her parents had emigrated from somewhere in eastern Europe, and she had just enough of an accent to pass for exotic while still seeming white enough to not be categorized as Other). They had no overlap in social circles. Jana would be pledging a sorority and her friends were like-minded stereotypical college party-girls; Alexis hadn’t been invited to anything as exotic as a coffee hour, and didn’t have time in her study schedule for parties anyway.

“What’s with these?” Jana asked, inspecting the small handfull of remaining pills in the baggy.

Alexis started in surprise. How could she have been so careless as to leave them lying out? “They’re, uh, they’re…” she stalled, mind racing, trying to think of what she might need pills for. “They’re for acne,” she lied. Jana was forever encouraging her to do something about her complexion. And come to think of it, it had cleared up nicely over the weekend. “I have a friend who works in the dermitology school—it’s the latest thing, not even on the market yet.”

Jana looked surprised, though if Alexis were guessing, more at the mention of Alexis having a friend than at the secret acne super-drug. “Oh, wow. For a second, I thought you were doing molly or something.” She laughed at the very idea of her mousy roommate doing illegal drugs, then stepped up closer and inspected Alexis more closely. “You know, I thought you looked better when I walked in. I couldn’t put my finger on it until you said that, but… you look great, Lex.”

Alexis bristled inwardly at being called Lex. She hated cutesie nicknames. Outwardly though, she smiled. After all, it was a rare compliment on her looks, and it felt good to be a girl and not just a brain with a female body for once.

Monday was another day of frantic note-taking, her hand racing to keep up with her professor’s words. It was the second-to-last week before “dead week,” when almost all of her classes were canceled to allow students time to prepare for finals and work on final projects. Alexis couldn’t be sure, but it felt like there might be some small difference. She felt like she had a sense of what was important and what could be safely ignored. She felt efficient.

But maybe that was just because she was having a great day. Her hair was normally a frizzy mess that was impossible to tame, but this morning it was lying nice and neat, straighter than she remembered seeing it without a trip to the stylist. Glossier even, maybe. And Jana was right—her skin looked positively divine. She was still freckly of course, but otherwise smooth as a baby’s bottom, nose to toes. She couldn’t help but smile; Jana even offered to let her use her makeup to “ride the high.” Condescending, but it was a good suggestion, so she went ahead and put some on. At one point during her chemistry lecture, she caught a nerdy boy seated near her looking at her! She was momentarily paranoid that she had lipstick on her teeth, but he smiled and blushed when he saw her looking back in a way that clearly communicated his interest. She smiled back; it felt good to be noticed, so it was smart to be encouraging.

Could these be the “epidermic and follicular alterations” the site had mentioned? How could anyone consider it a negative to have great skin and hair?

Still, she did have a bigger problem. At the rate she was taking these pills, she’d run through all fourteen pills already, and that had even been with shortening today’s dosage to a pitiful two. She waited until Jana was out at dinner, then called Kendra.

“Kendra? Hi, it’s Alexis. Look, I was wondering if I could maybe, um, get, um…”

“Nobody’s listening. You want more pills. But I gave you two weeks worth only four days ago—did you lose them?”

Alexis had already prepared her story. “No, but… well, I told my roommate about them and she wants some too. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me sharing your contact information, so I just told her I’d talk to my source.”

“Jana wants some? She didn’t strike me as the type.”

Alexis’ jaw dropped. “What? How did you… you know her? How is that possible?”

Kendra chuckled reprovingly. “You have her listed online as your roommate and you keep your privacy settings too low. I do such inquiries into anyone I do business with. Now I ask again. Jana wanted pills for herself?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I was worried you’d been overdosing to accelerate the onset and wanted to have me enable you to continue as such.”

How the hell does she…? “No no, nothing like that.”

“Good. Because the impurities endemic to the product I sold you are already prone to more severe manifestations of side effects, and overdosing compounds that effect significantly. You understand what I’m saying, Alexis?”

Alexis glared sulkily. “I understand, but that’s not what’s happening, honest.”

They arranged another meet-up, again behind the medical library. This time Kendra was wearing spandex shorts and a sports bra —in November—and insisted she’d been at the gym, and some more bullshit about her supposed Zen mastery. The group of young men who’d been obviously following behind her to stare at her bubble butt almost bowled into her when she stopped to talk to Alexis, glowering at the girl for taking away their scenery.

This time, she took out every nickel she thought she could spare, insisting Jana was likewise interested in longevity of the product and wasn’t going to quibble over side effects. Even with her current dosage, this should last her through finals. As soon as Kendra had sauntered out of sight, hips swaying like she was being paid by the jiggle, she popped two more pills on the spot with a bottle of water she’d brought with her for the occasion, then one more just to make up for lost time.

Tuesday morning, she noticed two changes bright and early. The first was that her test score was now up to a 115. Already an improvement of nearly 12%! Wait, had she just done that math in her head? She was terrible with math—born and raised with calculators, she was usually helpless without them. It was working!

The second thing she didn’t notice until she went to change out of her PJs, and that was that suddenly, her bra didn’t fit. She’d worn an A cup ever since her mother had insisted that she start wearing one (unnecessarily, Alexis had thought at the time). Today though… she hadn’t even noticed when she’d taken her nightshirt off—really, who checks out their breasts in the mirror every morning?—but as she stripped off the too-tight garment, then a second one just in case the first had just shrunk, she stopped to examine herself in a mirror.

Alexis… had boobs.

Well, there’s the “tissue enlargement.” Not just the usual two little bumps she called breasts that barely distinguished her from a skinny boy. No, these were boobs. They were nothing to brag about, certainly, but now they stood out from her chest, twin tear drops just big enough to obstruct sight of her toes, as long as she stood straight up. She cupped them gently, surprised to learn they weren’t sore like she would have expected. Actually…

They felt good. Like, really good. With Jana already out for her own classes, Alexis settled back into bed and prepared to enjoy herself. She stripped herself completely, indulging in a moment to inspect herself further. Maybe it was just the boobs, but for the first time in her life, she liked what she saw in the mirror.

It only took a few minutes of playing with them before she was good and wet. They felt incredible—not that she had a lot of experience feeling girls’ boobs (no experience at all, really), but just like with her face, her boobs had the same flawlessly smooth baby-soft quality. Her nipples, dark brown bee-stings, stood out large and proud, digging deliciously into her palms as she toyed. She kneaded and groped at her fresh new tit-flesh, imagining that soon—once she had time, when finals were over—she might even be able to find a boy to do this to her. That would be amazing.

For the first time her life, Alexis wished she had a vibrator. She hardly ever masturbated, since it distracted her from her work, and thus had never really had a need for one. Right now though, she was just goddamn horny and wanted a good cum. Playing with her clit with one hand was a good start, leaving her other free to keep taking advantage of her new boobs, but it wasn’t enough.

Jana! Jana had a vibrator—she’d seen it once when she’d left it in her shower caddy. Was it wrong? Was it unclean? Well, to the latter, it took only a quick polishing with hand sanitizer followed by a thorough rinse. The thought came to her instantly—was it the upstairoids? No matter. For the former conundrum, however, she could think of no ethical principle violated by temporarily appropriating her roommate’s possession when the object would come to no harm. It might run down the battery a bit, but she decided she’d just buy a new battery for it later and the problem was solved.

The vibrator, a ten-inch blue item Jana had comically written “Papa Smurf” on with a marker, turned on with a soft buzz, and slid into her sopping pussy easily. Her eyes flew open. How could she have been missing out on this? This was incredible! She teased Papa Smurf in and out of herself with one hand while the other mauled her new boobs with a vigor. Occasionally she pulled it out and rubbed it softly against her clit. Nerve endings she didn’t knew she had fired, jolting straight from her cunt to her dopamine production center.

Every single fucking thing felt so goddamn good.

Alexis had known she’d been moaning, only dimly aware she wasn’t being silent, but hadn’t registered how much noise she was making until she heard a few cheers coming from the room next door. “You go girl!” came a girl’s voice muffled only slightly by the thin wall. And Alexis did—that was a good suggestion. Pleasuring her pussy felt good, harmed no one, and was therefore a logical and intelligent use of one’s time. Once she felt herself start cumming, she rode Papa Smurf right through two more orgasms before she lay slack.

She cleaned off Jana’s vibrator and replaced it, then popped four more pills. Those wonderful, beautiful little pink pills!

She wrapped a towel around herself and made for the shower. Her next-door neighbor’s door was open, and she saw Terri grinning knowingly at her as she went by. “Alexis? I thought sure that was Jana.”

Alexis stopped, blushing bright red. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Hey, I’ve always thought you should unwind a little. Seriously, it’s good for you to cut loose a bit, enjoy yourself.”

Alexis considered that advice. I should unwind a little. Cut loose a bit. Enjoy myself. It made sense. Her brain was beginning to function better, and so with her time likely to be more impactful to the goal at hand, she had more available time to have some fun. She realized, then, how easily Terri’s offhand remark had sunk into her mind, and worried for a moment—could this lead somewhere bad?

Meh.

She filed away Terri’s advice, and with another apology, got cleaned up.

She didn’t wind up wearing a bra that day. Hers were now too small and Jana’s were too big (even if they were the sort of roommates who shared clothes). With the help of a pair of scissors and a how-to video on youtube, she cut one of her t-shirts to show off her new-found cleavage, and put on the tightest jeans she owned. (Are these a little snug in the hips?)

And it felt good, cutting loose a little. She enjoyed it.