Mind Eraser 3: Control

Read previous part

Drew looked apprehensively at Mr. Stir. "I-indoctrination?"

"Yes my boy, you need to remember what it is like to be my servant." Mr. Stir lifted a remote for the disc on the back of Drew's neck. It was similar to the mind eraser in that it stimulated nerves, but these were for sensations rather than memories. "This is what happens when you disobey me."

The disc activated, and Drew involuntarily writhed in intense pain. He couldn't think straight; the pain was everywhere. As he writhed, Mr. Stir shot him with another pulse from the mind melter. This pulse held prefabricated memories of disobedience, so that Drew would "remember" disobeying, and that this pain was the consequence. To Drew, he livedthrough each memory as it was built, and the pain seemed to go on for days. And then, mercifully, it stopped.

Drew groaned. Subjective days of torture for disobedience had already put cracks in the boy's mind, eating away at the will that could not be removed by the erase. He had remembered begging and apologizing, and none had seemed to work. Only subservience had stopped the pain each time.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm very sorry. It won't happen again."

"Let's make sure of that, shall we? Le me show you what happens when you obey me without question." Mr. Stir hit another button.

Drew writhed again, but this time in ecstasy. Every nerve of his body sang with pleasure, and he was instantly aroused. Mr. Stir hit Drew with another pulse of the mind eraser's prepackaged memories, and Drew once again experienced subjective days of sensation. For the next five minutes, Drew was lost in pleasure, climaxing multiple times. At the end, Drew's head lolled, basking in the afterglow. Mr. Stir cleaned him up while he did, removing the stained shirt and throwing it away.


"Do you understand now, Drew?"

Drew did. The cracks in his will the pain session had instigated had blown wide open. He so wanted the pleasure and so wanted to avoid the pain that he would do anyhting for his new master now. "Yes sir, Mr. Stir."

"No no, you remember. That's the slurring to my proper title I had you put in when you're with me in public. We're not that way now, are we?"

"No, we're not, my Master."

Mr. Stir gave him another jolt of pleasure for that, and then deactivated the muscle inhibitor. "Stand up, Drew."

Drew shot up, standing at attention, uncaring that his pants, still unbuttoned, fell to his knees.

"Get decent. We're going home now."

Drew pulled up and buttonned his pants. "As you command, my Master," he said, and he followed Mr. Stir to a new life...