The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Eidolon

We had a lead.

Or rather, I had a lead. Io and the rest of her bimbos-for-hire didn’t have a fucking clue what they were looking for. If Kori knew what the blue-haired woman looked like, she hadn’t said anything. No one else had seen her. Surya and Bastille had been too busy fucking their brains out and Io …

Well Io was keeping things close to the chest.

That’s fine. This wouldn’t be our first cat-and-mouse game. Layers upon layers and wheels upon wheels with us. She thought I was gangly and weird as the Gray slowly left me frail and gaunt. I thought she was an egomaniac and raging bitch. We found a way to work together without the press knowing how much we hated each other. And I kept up a passing facade of scorn without letting her know how badly I wanted to fuck her. How badly I wanted her to look up at me from between my legs with my juices coating her chin so I could slap her as hard as possible. Maybe even slap her through the Gray, slap the goddamn-fucking soul out of her.

So, her not knowing that I was spying on her was just a new layer to an old game.

She had spent days pouring over security-camera footage all over the city. She was jacked in to almost every police scanner and reporting hotline one could fathom. She had essentially become a human version of the internet, but she didn’t know what she was looking for. She didn’t know when she was stumbling over the exact thing she needed to save Synapse.

The blue-haired woman.

It was the same unnatural cobalt blue hair that Synapse had. She told me once that she was born that way, but everyone thought she dyed it obsessively. It was too bright to be dyed, and her roots never showed. It was like the kind of blue that some poisonous rain-forest frog would have.

Danger, it said.

Find me, it said.

That’s what I did. The blue-haired woman appeared in the city a few months ago. Apparently, she made quite the initial splash. The first sign of her was walking into a clinic, naked and glorious in her bare form. She was cut and bruised in several places, and while she did receive medical treatment, it wasn’t long until the entire clinic was in a full-blown orgy.

Sound familiar?

Whatever mental powers she had, they were either sex-centric or she was just one kinky and fucked up villainess (I could relate). But this was just step one. Finding her once just proved to me that she was real, that the time in the bunker wasn’t some twisted sexual fantasy we all had together. I mean, the bruises made it clear that things were real, but some of it was so good and so dark. The kind of shit you dream about (splitting Io in half with some freakishly sized dildo while she cries out your name and thanks you with each thrust).

For a few days, I kept in the shadows — in the Gray — behind Io’s computer bank to see if I caught any more glimpses of the blue-haired woman. There were a few of her walking the streets in her leather jacket and tight black pants, but nothing concrete. No pattern. I couldn’t very well tell Io to focus on her without giving away what I knew — and what I wanted. That meant I had to hit the streets and find her myself. It meant I had to follow-up my lead.

It meant I was going to the clinic.

Synapse

Maggie and Lin were only the start. The amuse-bouche. I lost track of time quickly. Soma mentioned that Gretchen would get me back in “training condition” quickly, but I didn’t know if that was a bluff or not. That was most of Soma’s game. I never got a grip on reality. Gretchen would mention casually that it was a beautiful Tuesday, but after they knocked me out, the next time Gretchen would be whining that no one loves Mondays. The warehouse was dark, and I never had enough light to see outside of the tiny ring of light shining on Gretchen’s workspace, the table where Maggie was strapped down, and the beautiful bed Soma seemed to be eternally teasing me with.

The bed was a promise.

The bed was a threat.

The bed was a reward.

The bed was the end.

But after Maggie and Lin, there was a revolving door of nameless women. Supple lipstick lesbians. Beautiful transgender women. Non-binary dommes like cruel fairies. Boss girls in suits that cost more than I make in a year stripping down to harnesses and chastity belts. Dommes that reminded me of my mother — all apple pie and scripture until they had a paddle in their hands. Subs that looked like butch powerhouses until they revealed a body riddled with piercings.

I felt each piercing in my own skin.

The extra sensitivity.

The extra pain.

The extra pleasure.

All work. All play. All Synapse.

Each time Gretchen drugged me so I couldn’t control my power. Only Soma was obscured from me, and from the look on her face during our sessions, I knew she was playing with me. She amplified certain sensations and dulled others. She dropped my fear until I smiled like a bimbo while I watched one woman rip the clothes off her sub and bend her over before spanking her repeatedly in the same spot. The bright red lines turned purple but the domme didn’t stop. The sub cried hot tears down our cheeks but begged the domme to keep going while I smiled like a moron, happily accepting the cane against my own thighs through the puppet of the sub.

Puppet.

I hated the word. It was Soma’s term, not mine. That when I hijacked someone’s senses, they were a puppet, not a victim. It was all the same to me, but I found myself adapting the language Soma used. It wasn’t like she called the subs deserving sluts that had it coming to them. She said they were puppets that begged to be puppets, and watching the women eagerly come in and submit themselves — being in their bodies as their lust swelled when they lost control — I knew they wanted it. Puppets was as good a word as anything else, though I wasn’t controlling them. I knew Soma had her ways to do that, but I couldn’t manage it.

Yet.

The thought terrified me. I knew it was a slippery slope. I’d start accepting Soma’s terminology for my powers, and then I’d — I don’t know. Become her? Is that where this was going? I can’t deny that part of me was curious. Not the part that wanted to subject other women and use them as sexual puppets. Not that I had any part of me that wanted to do that. But it was the adopted child in me — the orphan in me. She knew my powers. She knew my life. She knew parts of my body and abilities that I could never explain. And more than that, she could make me stronger. What if I didn’t just need to calm down hostages or give a body count of villains before we stormed a building? What if I could actually take a bad guy down? What if I could actually take Soma down? Imagine all the good if I could use my powers to convince bad girls to surrender? I could make them want to put their weapons down and walk out with their hands up. Bastille and Surya had to blast through all their problems. What if I could do it without all the collateral damage and risk?

Peace in our time. Peace in our freaking time.

All work and no play.

“Good morning,” Soma said as her heavy boots clomped over the hard warehouse floor. I wasn’t given much time for self-reflection, and as soon as Soma showed up, I had to put up as many shields as I could. More than likely she could cut through them all, but I —

“I can,” Soma said, sounding bored. I rolled my eyes. Reacting to my thoughts was a cute game but it was little more than parlor tricks. There are surface thoughts that you can barely hide with your face, and then there are the true intentions. She almost never touched them, unless she was letting me get confident so she could read my deep plans like a trashy romance novel.

Soma looked up at me with an arched eyebrow and smirked.

Crap.

She chuckled to herself and took a careful sip from a steaming mug of something. She walked past me to Gretchen’s station and began messing with whatever cocktail of nonsense they were going to drug me with today.

“No drugs,” Soma said. “I just want you to focus.”

“Without drugs?”

Soma sighed. “I have so much to teach you.”

“Assuming I trust anything you have to offer.”

Soma looked straight at me while she took a sip. There was always such an odd aggression in her looks. I knew it was superfluous. She was always probing my mind. Mentally, she was right next to me, breathing her hot breath down my neck, hovering over my ears. But when she looked at me, it was as though she stepped even closer, as though I could feel her fingers running over the grooves of my mind. I knew I was powerless to stop her. She could drug me. She could knock me out. She could kill me. But this wasn’t going to stop until she had her way, or I escaped.

And I’d already blown my chance to run so many times.

After each session, Soma offered me the same choice: cum or run. She’d free my limbs, and though I was turned on, sweating, and feeling like I’d been beaten or covered in scalding wax or submerged in ice or whatever kinky play she came up with, I could run. But each time I chose to cum. It felt like no real choice in the moment. Each time my body knew that if it didn’t cum, it would explode. I had to take the deal.

And I never had time to mope like I did in high school or when I joined Aurora Flight. I couldn’t lie in the dark about what an awful person I was for trading freedom for an orgasm. Instead, Gretchen or Soma rushed in with blissful darkness until I woke up for another session.

In fact, today was the most mental free-space Soma had given me since the beginning.

“That’s right,” Soma said. “It’s time to decide what you want out of this experience.”

“To go,” I said.

Soma shook her head. “You’ve made it clear you didn’t want that time and time again.” Soma reached out, and I felt the switch in my body. All at once, the air over my bare pussy was like the roughest and sexiest touch of a lover. I ground my hips against the hospital table, closed my eyes, and gasped as my whole body turned on.

Soma laughed, and like that, the pleasure was gone. My pussy was as numb as though she’d stabbed it with a needle full of Novocain.

“Tell yourself whatever you want, but you’ll never lie to me,” Soma said. “It isn’t the incredible sex that keeps you here, though I could hardly blame you if it was.” She put down her mug and stepped closer to me. She wore no shirt or bra beneath her leather jacket. It was unzipped, but her breasts were hidden. Only an extravagant display of sideboob drew my eye down to her tight stomach and navel.

“It’s the power I have to offer,” Soma said. She ran her fingers down the bare skin exposed by her jacket. She knew I was staring at it. She knew everything.

“So, if you want power, it’s time to start training. You have much to learn.”

“You want to make me your apprentice?”

Soma laughed. “You’d be so lucky, but no. Our people don’t share glory. If you were close to my ability, I’d kill you in a second.”

“Then why not kill me? Why not —”

“I was sent to find Koritsu and discover why she hasn’t conquered this horrible rock. Now that I’ve found you, I’m going to send you back on your path and find my own species to rule.”

A sudden sadness seized me. My whole life, I’d been alone. Not just a super with a lame power — there were tons of B and C list supers — but I was alone in my faith, alone in my house, alone in —

“Not alone,” Soma said. “You had Faith and Carly. It isn’t my fault you missed the chance to —”

“Faith is my sister. She —”

“Adopted sister,” Soma hissed. “And even if she was blood, she could have been yours. She could have —”

“No.” I closed my eyes, but that has never kept Soma out.

“Oh, Koritsu.” A warmth graced my cheek. It wasn’t the sensation of warmth, but genuine touch on my cheek. I opened my eyes, and Soma was holding my face, smiling warmly at me. “Take the power I have to offer,” she said, “and you won’t miss another opportunity like that again. You’ll never lack for whatever you want. That is what it means to be one of us.”

“I — I —” I shook my head. “I don’t know how.” I didn’t just mean that I didn’t know how to be her. I meant I didn’t know how to take power. I didn’t know how to figure out what I wanted. I didn’t know how —

“Let me teach you.” Soma kissed my forehead gently like a gentle lover.

I nodded before I could think better of it. It wasn’t like thinking had done me any good so far.

Eidolon

No one at the clinic remembered the blue-haired woman. I didn’t find that exactly shocking considering her mental abilities. A little forced amnesia was nothing fancy. I did my best and went there anyway, asking questions. I asked if I could look over their records and security footage. I name dropped as many supers as I could think of — most of whom I’d never met. But legally, they couldn’t show me records without a warrant, and I’d seen most of their security footage through Io’s screens. It seemed the blue-haired woman had destroyed most traces of her visitation.

I was just finishing up with Perla, a beautiful Chilean woman with a thick accent and dark features I thought rivaled even Io. Her chestnut brown skin was smooth and flawless, and her midnight-black hair was up in a ponytail. With her thick cat-eyed glasses and bright red lipstick, she looked young and flirty, but her pantsuit under the white jacket gave her an overwhelming air of professionalism.

“Thank you, Perla,” I said.

“Absolutely,” she said. Goddess, her accent was divine. “Anything I can do to help the investigation.”

“Uh, right.” I don’t know if people can see it when I blush. On one hand, my skin is pale, but on the other hand, all color was leaving my body. I wondered if it was just a darker shade of gray to her.

“Are you sure you don’t remember an incident with a strange woman with blue hair?” I sighed. Perla didn’t know anything. No one knew anything. This was another dead end. “It would have been about seven months ago.”

Perla bit her lip, and it drove me wild. Seriously, if I weren’t dedicated to breaking Io’s body and spirit, Perla would have been a great distraction from my sexless life. But right now, I was putting my hopes in the blue-haired woman. Maybe she would just pin me to a wall again with light, but maybe she … maybe she … I don’t know. I had to find her, but I still didn’t know what I would do if I succeeded. There was no way in hell I’d hand her over to Aurora Flight or the authorities. On my best days, I could convince myself it was all to save Synapse. But at night I dreamed of seeing Io fucked and broken like Kori. Which one did I want from the strange super? Why not both?

“No, nothing,” Perla said with a shake of her head, letting her hair dance back and forth in waves. “Sorry.”

“Anything from seven months ago?” I took out my phone. I had a few other spots where I could check out before heading back to the Borealis, but I wasn’t feeling optimistic. “Any lapses in memory or blank spaces in a day?”

Perla opened her mouth to speak but then stopped. She held up a finger. “Seven months ago, you say?”

“Mhmm.”

“Is this about Gretchen?”

I lower my phone. “Who?”

“Gretchen Stackhausen. She was a doctor that used to work here. But about seven months ago she disappeared. Didn’t quit or anything. She just …” Perla looked down at her lap.

“Disappeared?” I finished.

Perla nodded without looking up at me. I let the silence build for an adequate time to signal sympathy while I started googling Gretchen Stackhausen. I didn’t see any police report, but Perla was right. She worked here for a few years, but then she stopped. There was no announcement. Her social media pages were dark. It was like she walked off the planet and absolutely no one missed her.

Jackpot.

“Thanks,” I said, standing up. I was already reaching out to some contacts trying to find the last known address of the good doctor. “That’s all I need.” I turned to walk out of the room when I felt a hand on my elbow. I paused and turned to see Perla with a strange look of pain and desperation on her face.

“That’s not all,” she said.

“There’s more about Gretchen?” I asked, looking up from my phone.

Perla bit her lip again and shook her head. “About seven months ago …” She blushed and shook her head, looking away from me.

Oh god, I thought. Fucking jackpot.

Synapse

“There are eighty-six billion neurons in the average human brain,” Soma said as she paced around me. A young blonde woman stood in front of me, naked. A moment ago, she looked bored, but when I reached out, the lust was oozing from her. She shifted her weight from side to side, rubbing her thighs together. Her heavy breasts swayed slightly when she did it.

Soma never told me her name. That was new.

“That’s something they have on other species I’ve conquered.” My new trainer — Mistress — paced around me while she talked. But it didn’t matter, anyone who would look away from this blonde with her straight hair down to her butt and thighs thick like … I dunno. Her curves deny metaphors, but I would have killed for her hips. Sometimes Kori took the form of these curvier women, and those were always the hardest days to stay pure. A photo-shopped Insta-barbie was easy to ignore. But someone like this — someone that was so much woman — was the kind of body that drove me to temptation repeatedly.

Bodies like Faith.

Bodies like Carly.

“More neurons mean more connections. It means there are shortcuts. It means there are all sorts of ways to flow from one thing to another. You can use a fingertip to trigger a memory to make someone horny. Or a smell can send someone into a depressive spiral.”

“Sounds like an instrument with eighty-six billion strings,” the nameless blonde said.

Soma chuckled. “More than that. Add the seven trillion nerve endings to that equation and you get one of the most complex instruments I’ve ever played. It took me months to find the right way to make you all tick.”

“Only months?” the blonde said.

“I found a shortcut,” Soma said.

“Sex,” I said.

“Sex,” Soma agreed. “It’s one of the most complex parts of the body concerning nerve endings, but when it comes to the brain, the whole thing lights up when you’re turned on. More than that, the most dangerous parts shut down.”

“Critical thinking,” I said.

“Cost analysis,” she added.

“Long-term risk assessment.”

“Even pain receptors.” Soma ran a finger over my shoulder. I watched her in the blonde’s eyes. The curvy girl hadn’t taken her eyes off Soma since she’d been brought in. I should be embarrassed that she ignored a perfectly nude me strapped to a table, but I couldn’t blame her for her tastes. Soma was in a different category. She still preferred leather, but I’d noticed it was less of a BDSM or biker leather and more of a Parisian supermodel kind of leather. She looked like someone Kori would pretend to be.

“It takes practice to do what I do,” Soma said. “And to practice, it takes a certain lack of scruples.”

“You mean morals.”

“Morals on Earth are nothing like morals back home.”

“Because we conquer worlds,” I said sarcastically.

“Exactly,” Soma said.

“You what?” The blonde asked, but Soma kept talking, ignoring her. I felt the spike of anxiety in her suppressed by a tidal wave of lust. The poor girl was caught up in the scene: me strapped to a table and naked while a beautiful woman in leather paced around me and lectured. She was waiting for the cameras to turn on for the high-budget Sci-Fi porno she was about to be a part of.

“You wanted this,” Soma reminded me. “You asked for it.”

I open my mouth to protest, but there was no point. I couldn’t lie to her. Heck, I couldn’t even lie to myself in my mind. Yes, I wanted to know how she did what she does. I wanted that power. There was a lot I could do — a lot I could prove — with the power she was offering me.

“But it was more than that,” Soma said. She was behind me, whispering in my ear with her thick and hot breath, but she had done some trick of feedback input. Her words rang in my ears as I heard myself hearing them and heard them through the blonde girl’s ears hearing them. I might have even heard them in Soma’s ears, but all I knew was that they looped and hissed in my mind until they weren’t just my auditory nerves picking up a sensation. They were something deeper, something rattling around in my mind like it was my own thought.

“Nice trick,” I said.

“Poor deflection,” she countered. She was right.

My mind was an open book, so rather than fight it, I closed my eyes and let her read each chapter. Even with my eyes shut, my mind was still envisioning the blonde. I couldn’t ignore her now, just like I couldn’t ignore the temptation of cumming rather than escaping. There was something in my bones — in my DNA — that called me to her. My whole life I thought I was gay and tried to fight that, but Soma said I was something else.

“Omnisexual,” the woman whispered. Again, the words echoed in my mind.

“But that’s not …”

“No,” Soma said. “That’s not all.” She pointed to the blonde in front of me, her long and strong arm extended past my field of vision looking almost like my own arm for a moment. “What does your body tell you to do to her?”

I didn’t argue with the question. I knew what she meant as soon as she asked it. It wasn’t what my mind wanted. It wasn’t my sexual preferences or my desires. It wasn’t lust or decades of a culture over-saturated with sex and female oppression. It was something more, something deeper. Good God, it was like an ocean deep inside of me, deeper than blood.

“It wants me to hurt her,” I said, blushing as the words came out of my mouth.

The naked blonde had a spike of fear as soon as she heard me, but Soma didn’t suppress it with lust. She let me feel the woman’s fear spreading out like a black fog from her. It should have distressed me. I was an empath. I spent my life getting rid of people’s fear, calming them down.

But I didn’t want her fear to go away now.

I wanted to devour it.

I felt the hunger between my legs, but it was stronger than that. It was in the back of my mind, at the base of my neck. It was like knowing I needed water and food to survive, knowing that you needed to sleep — no, knowing how to go to sleep. My body just knew.

“We’re conquerors,” Soma said. “There’s no way to fight it.”

“But —”

“They’ve tried to break you with their customs and traditions, with their faith.” She hissed the last word, and let it echo in my mind. Shivers went down my spine, but it wasn’t enough to dislodge the burning hunger inside me.

“Why do you think you’ve been attracted to power?” Soma asked. “All those supers you surround yourself with. You don’t want to join them. They’re just tools for doing what you’ve always been designed to do.”

“Puppets,” I said. My mouth was dry. I knew she was unlocking the secrets of my past; of every shameful desire I’ve tried to burn away. But I couldn’t focus on that right now. In front of me, the blonde —I kept calling her Tits in my mind — stood nervous and scared. Horny, nervous, and scared. I wanted to devour her. No. I wanted to break her. To conquer her. I’d seen so many dommes and subs play out their little game in front of me. That was all roleplay. They had safe words and boundaries. They had to stop, had to respect each other.

“Conquerors don’t respect their prey,” Soma said.

“No,” I said. I knew it was wrong. It was all wrong. My whole life was wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be begging to cum rather than escaping. I shouldn’t be submitting to a psychopath that wanted to conquer the planet. I shouldn’t believe a word she said. I should be saving the world. I should be home in my bed. God, I had barely even prayed since I was captured. I was doing it all wrong.

“Because you’ve been doing it their way,” Soma said. “Time to stop pretending to be prey.”

“Can I go?” Tits asked. Her voice cracked, and it broke something in me. She was so weak. Her fear was like perfume, like sex, like searing steak. I wanted to break her for her weakness, to punish her for being so pathetic. Couldn’t she just lean into her lust and arousal like the rest of us? Couldn’t she just shut up and play her role?

Where was all this anger coming from?

“Don’t fight it,” Soma said. “It’s your destiny.”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” I said.

“Then prove me wrong.” Soma stepped away from me and walked behind Tits. She ran her fingertips over the curvy blonde’s bare skin. The woman shivered, and the mixture of arousal and fear pouring off her made me lick my lips. “Do whatever you want with her,” Soma said. “DNA be damned.”

“Whatever I want?”

Soma smirked. “You don’t know where to start, do you?”

I smiled, and it felt wrong, like stretching a muscle long atrophied. But it was right somehow, it was my face — my true face. “Eighty-six billion neurons.”

Soma’s smile spread. “Then let’s start with a few of my favorites.”