Marie’s Mind Control

My name is Pat aged, 30 and my wife, Marie and I had been married for a little over 10 years, having met, fallen in love, and married early, some would say prematurely, while we were still studying in university. Now 29 years old, she was still in exceptionally good shape, almost as trim and attractive as when I had first met her, not skinny but not fat; a size 10 with 34C bust. She has longish silky brunette hair that descended just past her shoulders. However as much as I had always wanted to and tried to get her to dress and behave more sexily, she always seemed to prefer to dress somewhat conservatively, a little too conservatively for my taste. She never dared to go without a bra and would always opt for comfortable but pretty bikini style, rather than sexy panties or thongs. Even if we went on holiday to Spain, she would opt for a sensible swimsuit or bikini and could never be cajoled into going topless, despite most of the women around us on the beach baring their breasts for all to enjoy.

Although our sex life had been quite active at 20, over the last few years it had dwindled away and had become much less frequent and more predictable. I’d sometimes tried to liven up our sex life and try to tempt her into being more adventurous, but basically, she would do her best to avoid anything outside of a simple fuck once or twice a month providing that I recognized the right moment, usually a few days before her period. Don’t ask me why, but the shortage of anything resembling a decent sex-life had taught me to observant and pay attention to the nuances and small indications that sex might be available to me if I played my cards right. Endeavors to arouse her at other times were usually rejected, with one of her regular excuses. Sex when it did happen was mostly in a passive missionary position. Even a blow job was something she felt extremely uncomfortable about and so I never pressed her for that and anal was totally out of the question. In my various efforts to reignite our love-life, I had even tried to get her interested in sharing a porn videos to liven up the relationship a bit, but her interest or willingness to watch those was either met with disdain or were short-lived. There was one video, however, where the unfolding story was of a wife who ended up having a brief encounter with a stranger. I remember this because it stood out in my mind at that time as she got much wetter than normal. Although not directly mentioning how aroused it had made her, I tried to push the boundaries on the rare occasions that we had sex and pursue the idea of her having sex involving another man, but this was swiftly dismissed as “pure fiction” and nothing that would ever be considered in real life.

She had always been a fairly light sleeper and sometimes would wake during the night, but more recently had even started to take a sleeping pill having been to the doctor about her sleep problems. Personally, I was never sure whether this was just to aid her excuses or whether she really had a problem, but they certainly seemed to knock her out cold and once asleep, nothing much would really wake her. I must confess that once I could be sure that she was asleep, I would use this time to masturbate and relieve the pent-up tension, mostly choosing to fantasize about spying on her with another man as he seduced her.

Thinking back to my years in university, around the time when I first started dating Marie, I had shared a flat with a guy named Paul. I was studying computer science and Paul had pursuing a joint degree in Psychology and Biochemistry, which, at that time, I thought was pretty weird. Now Paul was a great guy, a gentle bear of a man; genuine, extremely smart, with great sense of humor. We quickly became the best of friends. Unfortunately, somewhere along the lines his gene pool had let him down and he had ended up sharing more than a passing resemblance to Uncle Fester from the Adams Family, due in part to his bulky size and a condition known as alopecia universalis, which apparently had rendered him completely bald, without either eyebrows or eyelashes. He seemed to take a weird pleasure in frequently donning a long brown coat and adopting a creepy facial expression, making people stare as he did his best to convince them that he was indeed the real Uncle Fester. Sadly, these unfortunate characteristics meant that he never really managed to retain a “real” girlfriend. Sure, he had plenty of female friends, but most seemed unwilling to look past his outer appearance and go the extra step to become classed as his girlfriend. However, knowing him so well and the real person, he became a close friend to both me and Marie.

After graduation, Paul and I had gone our separate ways; I had become a programmer and Paul got a placement doing something that he described as “a research company”. He never was too specific about that nature of his work apart from labeling it as “various kinds of research”.

For the first couple of years after Paul and I graduated, Paul would drive over every few months or so and we’d all go out together for a few drinks and a meal. Marie had kind of adopted him in her own way, accepting him as a harmless but close friend, who she genuinely seemed to care about. She felt sorry for him and had even tried to tempt some of her female friends to look past his outer façade of creepiness and go out with him. Sadly, but predictably, these valiant efforts to hook him up with someone rarely survived past more than a semi-awkward first date.

Sometimes, on rare occasions I would notice Paul checking Marie out, giving her a glancing look that lingered just a little too long, as his eyes took in the profile and particularly her shapely breasts, especially if for some reason or other, Marie’s nipples (unknown to her) had started to become vaguely noticeable through her bra, but to his credit, he never overstepped the boundary and to be honest I never minded him looking; I always figured there was no harm in him looking and it kind of amused me. It was obvious to me that in some ways he fancied her too.

Anyway, leaving memories of university life behind and returning again to the current time, it had been more than a few years since we’d last seen Paul. Over time we’d basically gone our separate ways, having established our respective careers in different cities. However, out of the blue one night we got a phone call. Marie answered and appeared happy to inform me that it was a call from Paul. He was calling to say that he would be traveling to our town over the weekend for a work-related visit on Monday and suggested we go for a drink and a meal together like old times. Without hesitation we eagerly accepted, and both looked forward to catching up with him and freely offered our spare room instead of him having to stay at a hotel.

When Friday finally arrived, we were preparing to go out, Marie returned to the bedroom having taken a shower and washing her hair in a fairly plain white t-shirt bra and panties with a pink lacy front panel and trim. She never seemed to be comfortable being completely naked in front of me anymore, but that was life and I was becoming resigned to it. She pulled on a pair of dark stay-up stockings that had the elasticated tops and would stay up themselves without any form of suspenders. Being still winterish, she slipped her head and arms through a white ribbed turtle-neck sweater, pulling it down as it clung to her body, before stepping into a royal blue mid-length, A-line skirt that came to just above her knees and a short white half-slip underneath. Nothing really sexy there, but it went together well as an outfit and really, she looked good in it; the stretchy sweater clung to her complementing the silhouette of her breasts, her dark brunette hair cascading down over her shoulders in a way that contrasted nicely against the white sweater. This outfit had always been one of my personal favorites because I loved the way it accentuated her figure.

Right on time the doorbell chimed and there was Paul; like us, a few pounds heavier, but not so bad given his size and of course a few years older than the last time we’d seen him, but looking past that, he was the basically same great guy. Following on from the initial greetings and pleasantries, we headed out, calling a minicab to take us into town to a popular pub and restaurant. The evening was just like the old days and time slipped by easily. We obviously had a lot to catch up on and gossip about and both Marie and I wondered how his career was developing and in specific Marie was more interested in his social life or rather his dating life had developed since leaving university. Sadly, it seemed not to have changed so much, with no one notable relationship worth mentioning in his life. I was genuinely saddened and frustrated for him; he was a good guy and deserved better, despite his slightly unusual appearance. With not having to drive, the drinks flowed pretty steadily too. It was unusual for Marie to drink much these days, being usually good to go with just one Gin and Tonic, but on this particular night, Paul was clearly enjoying our renewed pub night and for some reason seemed to be enjoying trying to get Marie tipsy; Despite her half-hearted protestations, he would insist on keeping her glass refilled, returning from the bar with doubles whenever her glass neared empty. By 10:00pm all three of us were surprisingly well on the way to being more than a little inebriated but as no one had to drive we really didn’t care too much.

Soon thereafter, having had our fill of the pub, we called a cab to take us back to home. By the time we reached home it was around 11:30pm but although the night was still relatively young, our days of partying until breakfast next day as students were clearly well behind us; instead we opted to relax and watch a movie on the tv and of course to have another drink. Marie was in an unusually happy mood, mostly from the drink, and volunteered to put together some snacks together as I grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and poured her another somewhat generous G&T.

As I was pouring her drink, I noticed Marie take a glass of water and, out of habit I guess, popped one of her sleeping pills from the foil pack. It had become an almost ritual routine for her to do this each night around 11pm. I didn’t think too much about it, but with all the drinks we’d had I doubted that she would even need her medication. If she had been a little less drunk, she probably would have rationalized that, herself, but before I had time to say anything, she had already taken it. I did wonder whether it was wise and momentarily worried whether the alcohol would affect it.

Returning to the lounge, Paul had settled himself into an armchair almost directly opposite the sofa but angled towards the tv. I handed Paul his beer and took my place at the end on the sofa.

“… So, go on, tell me more about this mystery work that you’re always so secretive about”, I said, trying to wheedle more out of him. I guess the drink had made me brave enough to ask more directly and as luck would have it, also seemed to have lowered Paul’s reluctance to get drawn into conversation about it.

He hesitated for a few moments, debating in his mind whether to open up about his work to me.

“…well, I shouldn’t tell you, actually I could get fired and worse, I could even get sent to prison”. He paused for what seemed the longest time before continuing, but I’ve known you long enough to trust you like a brother, so I guess there’s no real harm, but you have got to keep what I tell you a secret”.

“Well, I have been working on the development of a new, or at least an enhanced version of a type of psychoactive drug, whose primary function is to rapidly induce a deep and receptive hypnotic state. It’s kinda hush hush and seems that let’s say “has uses that certain covert activities might find helpful”.

“LOL, you mean like a truth drug?” I chuckled openly as my mind played with the notion that Paul was caught up in some top-secret undercover kind of research.

“Actually…” he continued “… hallucinogenic plants have been used in tribal cultures for years to induce trance like states in rituals – that’s not really hypnosis, but so-called shamans have been using them for years even as far back as the romans”.

Paul adopted a more serious expression as he slipped into his role of educating me on the evolution of these drugs, to which I dutifully nodded at appropriate moments.

“You can think of it in a kind of way where something similar happens when you’re nodding off to sleep and reach that twilight state where you’re in between consciousness and sleep. Basically, there’s almost an infinite number of neural circuits and we’ve been researching and how to manipulate them… things that govern how the brain responds to states like fear, anxiety, terror and depression, etc.

“Some chemicals disrupt concentration and make it more difficult to perform high-functioning tasks. Telling a lie actually needs concentration so People need to concentrate more in order to think up a lie… when we disrupt their ability to think clearly it is harder for them to tell a lie. Other drugs such as Sodium pentothal such as were previously withdrawn because they triggered false memories, while drugs such as Scopolamine used to be widely used but it was withdrawn because it also wiped a subject’s memory clean so they knew nothing about what they said after waking up”.

“What we’ve done is basically re-engineered these chemicals to fine-tune and combine the side effects so that instead of false memories, when administered appropriately we can implant memories we want them to have and yet still be wipe them of any memory of this being done to them”.

He paused again

“so, what’s your role in all of this?” I asked as I gestured with an eager expression for him to continue.

“I’m leading a team that’s been genetically manipulating the plants that naturally produce these chemicals and now we’ve been able to engineer the chemicals into a more concentrated and actually more potent form that work more effectively and also in both directions”

“what do you mean… both directions?” I asked

“well, instead of just getting someone to be more truthful when they answer questions, we can deepen their hypnotic state and then manipulate the drug’s ability to trigger false memories to subconsciously implant information that they accept as truth, I mean like our own truths. In other words what we tell them becomes firmly but subconsciously ensconced in their own minds as the absolute truth.”

I sat there pondering what Paul had just revealed to me and all the possibilities that could arise from the misuse of a drug like that. I imagined all kinds of dangers from the wild possibilities like business executives being kidnapped and drugged to manipulate or interfere with business deals or political figures to interfere in elections; the list of possibilities seemed endless.

“if we can get deep enough into people’s minds, it’s even likely to be effective in counter-terrorism, such as being able to implant and build up alternate facts and ideologies, which the recipient of the drug will accept as truths, with the possibilities of turning even the most hardened terrorists against their own sides”. Paul continued…

At that moment both our attentions turned, and our conversation was interrupted as Marie returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray of snacks she’d done her best to put together.

“When kept you so long honey?” I asked, semi-jokingly.

“’sorry guys, lol I remembered that I had to take my meds” she responded, doing her best to steady herself as our night of drinking was obviously still affecting her far more than she imagined.

“do you think that’s wise hun, given that we’ve been drinking”? She knew she wasn’t supposed to take pre***********ion sleeping tablets with alcohol.

“idk, I guess it won’t hurt, just maybe make me fall asleep, but you guys will have to forgive me if I do that”, she said semi-rhetorically and smiled before kicking off her wedge shoes, straightening her skirt under her legs, and settling in next to me on the sofa, her legs and feet curled beside her.

Taking advantage of her somewhat inebriated but unexpectedly receptive mood, I tentatively put my arm around her and to my surprise she leaned against me and cuddled into me. I half smiled in reflex as my mind toyed with the idea that maybe I’d even be in luck tonight.

With my spare hand I grabbed the remote and started flicking through various movie channels on the tv, pausing momentarily on each to see what was playing, we agreed that as usual they weren’t overly stimulating and the choice was somewhat limited, finally settling for a rerun of “hangover”. Somehow, although it had already started, it seemed to be innocuous and mildly appropriate given our own increasing level of inebriation.

Time passed as we worked our way through our drinks, while Paul changed subjects and reverted back to chatting about less work related topics and bantered freely about our time at university, recounting various tales of him scaring children with his Uncle Fester antics, breaking off only to laugh from time-to-time at the unfolding series of events on the movie.

With her right shoulder pressed into me, my left arm extended across Marie’s shoulders, hanging over her left shoulder, her hair pooling over it. I started to trace my fingers around the back of her ear and neck, caressing her lightly in a way that she used to like in our early days of dating, and would never fail to give her goosebumps on her neck and arms. More usually these days, even I was lucky enough for her to be so romantically inclined to cuddle into me, she would brush my hand away and just complain that it tickled.

Anyway, on this occasion the flurry of goosebumps that I could feel under the tips of my fingers didn’t seem to bother her unduly. I realized that her breathing had changed and that in fact she had already fallen asleep, presumably from the exacerbating effects of alcohol on her sleeping pills; a fact that I found quite amusing.

Feeling both a little tipsy and somewhat emboldened I continued to softly caress her neck. I don’t know why but I found myself wondering whether I could stimulate an erotic dream in her sleep and hopefully might just improve my chances later when we went to bed. The soft touches and caressing of her neck were definitely resulting in goosebumps. I let my forearm and wrist relax so that my hand flopped down and came to rest with my fingers loosely resting on her breast. I could swear I felt her nipple had hardened below the sweater and lightly padded bra. Feeling encouraged, I tentatively encircled the outline of her nipple, brushing it gently with the nail of one finger.

Around that time, I glanced over to Paul to comment about her falling asleep when I noticed him watching her. I was about to speak when he caught himself and quickly returned his gaze to the tv clearly trying to avoid looking in our direction. I looked down and saw the reason for Paul’s stare; even though she was wearing a bra, her nipples were clearly distending the fabric of her bra and sweater.

“Haha, it’s ok Paul, I don’t mind you looking” I said almost jokingly, “I know you’ve always had a thing for Marie”. Paul’s face was a picture, flushing red from cheek to ear. I’m pretty sure he was wished I hadn’t noticed him staring at Marie’s nipples and wanted the ground to kind of open up and swallow him right around that moment. He determined to avoid eye contact, instead fixing his gaze on the tv, while offering a string of apologies.

“Seriously, it’s fine Paul, really I don’t mind. I’m sure Marie might object if she knew my best friend was staring at her tits, but she seems to be into a deep sleep right now”.