The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cold. So cold. Was this what it felt like to die? Damon didn’t want to go like this, without even the chance to fight back—and for what? His father’s defiance of foreign corporate raiders?

It can’t end like this. he thought, struggling to breathe. Suddenly, he was enveloped in a blindingly white light. He felt himself rising, and soon he was floating in a pillar of light, surrounded by darkness. A being appeared, looking like someone had tried to make a centaur out of a Predator hunter and an ankylosaurus, and the resulting creature had broken free and helped itself to an extra pair of arms, better claws and a scorpion’s tail. The creature spoke, or at least that’s what Damon presumed it was doing, as it arranged a series of screeches, growls, hisses and caws into some sort of pattern. Damon felt far too weak to try to figure it out. Another creature Damon couldn’t see handed the first one a black tablet-like object, and the creature repeated its noises. Sounds approximating English words soon emanated from loudspeakers around the room.

“You are dying, Earthling. While you are in that light, the process of your termination is suspended, but you are able to think, and we can monitor your thoughts.”

What is it you want? Damon thought. The creature “spoke” into its tablet again.

“The situation is as follows: A member of an enemy species has altered a member of your species and given him powers above and beyond those of mainline Earthlings, including the ability to grant similar powers to others. We have no choice but to consider this a covert operation against us. The organization we created within the your government as a countermeasure against such acts has failed to deal with the threat.”

What does any of this have to do with me?

“Impatient.”

Guilty as charged. Being about to die kind of does that.

“We offer you a chance to continue existing. Correction: To begin a new, better existence. We will repair that perforated body your mind inhabits, and enhance it, giving you powers comparable to those possessed by the enemy combatants. We do not care how you use them, so long as you also use them to terminate the enemy forces on your world. Do you accept?”

It’s not like I have anything to lose. Fine.

“Excellent.” the creature said. It made a gesture, and blackness took the place of the world.

Damon became aware of his surroundings once more by small increments. He sat up, still wearing his bloody, bullet-riddled shirt.

It wasn’t a dream. he thought sadly. He gradually became aware of the other minds in his apartment building. His neighbors, his landlord, people on the street; their minds were like open books to him. He got up and threw his shirt in the trash on his way to the refrigerator, contracting his awareness so that the other minds outside weren’t buzzing in his head like conversations in a gymnasium anymore. The refrigerator flew open at his will, and as soon as he decided he wanted it, a slice of pizza floated out. He grabbed it out of the air and began to eat. Stuffed Crust Meat Lover’s with extra cheese, his father’s favorite.

My father. he thought. He remembered overhearing his parents talking when they thought he and his siblings were asleep. His father had exposed the efforts of a Japanese company to blackmail his boss into selling his majority shares to them. Something about drugs and pictures and underage prostitutes. A few days later, masked men in suits had raided the company picnic, targeting his family first before starting on everyone else. The searing invasion of bullets into his body was as fresh in his memory as if it were happening now. The sight of his mother’s lifeless eyes as she lay beside him filled him with a burning rage. Anything in the apartment that wasn’t nailed down trembled as if it shared his anger. He forced the rage away, focusing instead on getting used to his new power. He found he could focus his perceptions so that he could examine a grain of salt at the molecular level, and manipulate it according to his will. It worked better the closer he was to whatever he was messing with. Somehow, he knew almost instinctively what to do as soon as he knew what he wanted.

His senses alerted him to the approach of police officers down on the sidewalk. A little prying, and he knew that they had found the bodies of his entire family, but not him, yet his signature was on the guest register. That made him a suspect if found alive. They had a warrant to search the place. They needed only to speak with the landlord to get a key.

Damon looked at himself in a mirror. He would be recognized anywhere around here. He needed a new face. Just like that, his face began to reshape itself, his round chin becoming tapered and triangular, his broken nose straightening and flaring, his skin color darkening to a rich tan, his hair lightening from black to red with blond highlights. He changed his eyes from blue to black and made his muscles more defined, redirecting mass from his fat cells and any extra skin from the transformation from fat to more-dense muscle in the process. He left via the fire escape, jumping down into the alley and slowing his descent with force of will as he approached the ground.

He walked into the dollar store and sent out a mental command for everyone to leave. Disabling the cameras was as simple as pulling the plugs, and then he was free to roam at will. He grabbed an impudent T-shirt, some cheap blue jeans and Velcro sneakers. He also grabbed a backpack from the school supplies section and filled it with food—not exactly conforming to the good old food pyramid, but edible and palatable. His old clothes he tossed in the dumpster out back and set on fire by speeding up the molecules. He increased the power of the fire until he sensed someone coming to investigate. By then, the metal dumpster was glowing red and beginning to soften. He went around the store and walked right past the landlord who was talking to the officers. The man showed no signs of recognition. His disguise was complete. He kept walking as someone started shouting “fire” from the alley. He stopped into an Internet cafe and strolled up to a person who was sitting at a terminal. He implanted a sensation of bladder pressure into the woman’s mind, forcing her to run to the bathroom quickly. He took her seat and opened a new browser window, all the while blocking the clerk from noticing him. His fingers moved over the keyboard in a blur as he searched for the information he needed—or at least as much of it as was available over the internet. He finished quickly, closed the browser window, and left the seat for the woman to return to when she came back from the bathroom.

He opened a Snickers and munched as he walked. Someone was getting a soda from a vending machine nearby. He made them push the button for the drink he wanted instead of what they wanted, and then froze them in place while he took it, reminding them that it wasn’t what they wanted anyway so they wouldn’t chase him. A police officer saw, and approached with thoughts of deliberately overexerting his authority to teach him a lesson in his mind. Damon merely erased the last five minutes from the officer’s memory and sent him on his way.

This is a trip. he thought to himself as he popped the top on his drink. He could practically taste his impending revenge. Yes, he realized, he was going to take his revenge upon the company that had had his family eliminated for revealing their illegal activities. Whatever was left, he would take control of and use to further his mission for the aliens. Then, he would be free to use his powers as he saw fit.

His subconscious mind continued to make changes to his body, enhancing his musculature among other things. These operations required calories and raw materials, thus prompting him to consume more of his food stash before he was truly ready. He passed a school in his rambling, and walked into the cafeteria through the delivery entrance. He opened the milk cooler and downed several pints of chocolate milk.

“Hey, what are you doing?” demanded a female voice. Damon wiped his mouth and glared at the intruder. She was Hispanic, in her twenties, and curvy in all the right places. “You’d better be able to pay for that!” she shouted, her pretty face marred by an angry frown. He touched her mind, and she began to smile and sigh happily. “Oh, um, hi.” she said. “I, uh...I dunno what you’re doing here, but you’re kinda cute.”

“There’s no problem, just follow me.” he said, reinforcing his instruction with a mental push.

“Okay.” she replied. He went into the men’s restroom, and she followed without thinking. There were locks on the doors, probably to keep anyone from hiding there and coming out to cause trouble once the school was closed. He locked them and turned his attention to his new pet. He pointed down and she eased herself to her knees. Noticing the bulge in his pants, she wiped some drool off her chin before unfastening them. His cock popped out, and she almost had an orgasm just looking at it. She kissed the head and began to lick the shaft, coating it with her saliva. She took the head into her mouth. Her throat relaxed with the merest mental touch from Damon, and she began to deep throat him. He grabbed her hair and fucked her face, shoving his cock down her throat when his balls fired their ammunition. She moaned as she sucked his cock dry, swallowing it all like her favorite drink. Damon rewarded her with an orgasm. While her mind was distracted, he reached inside and began making changes.

“Now, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Slave #1, Master.” she responded.

“Your purpose?”

“To be useful to you, of course, Master.”

“Define ‘Good.’”

“Good is whatever pleases you, Master.”

“Define ‘Evil.’”

“Evil is whatever displeases you, Master.”

“Now, tell me about your past.”

“Past, Master?” she asked. “I...do not understand, Master. There is nothing before I awoke just now for the purpose of serving you.”

“Good girl.” he said, patting her on the head. She moaned as a sexual thrill washed through her body. He unlocked the bathroom doors, and he and his new slave returned to the cafeteria. He floated the square pizzas out of the oven, scraped the meat and cheese off the top with a fork, piling it on a large plate and eating it straight, leaving the crusts on the counter. He ate the chocolate pudding and several chef salads before directing his slave to the rich kids’ line, where she piled shredded and nacho cheese on several large plates of curly fries and poured chili over the whole. The public school version of a Bloomin’ Onion joined this on a tray, along with several cups of ranch dressing and the entire supply of cheese sticks. Damon ate like a starving man, washing down his meal with all the chocolate milk while his slave knelt beside him.

“Maria!” a male voice exclaimed. The slave didn’t respond. Damon looked up with annoyance at a bespectacled man with a three hundred dollar suit and a combover. With a flick of his left eyebrow, the man flew backwards, crashing through the cafeteria door. Damon continued to eat, his body digesting the food quickly and directing the mass where it was needed. Damon placed one of the trays of chili-cheese curly fries on the floor in front of his slave, who beamed gratefully at him before she began to eat like a hungry dog.

Damon sighed as his appetite slacked off at last. He looked like a dork with his too-small clothes covered in cheap sauce, grease and government cheese. He went to the bathroom to wash his face and returned as his slave was licking her dish clean. He wiped her face with a napkin, chuckling to himself at how willingly she debased herself. She smiled at his pleasure and nuzzled into his hand affectionately.

“Come, slave.” he told her, and she rose to her feet and followed him eagerly. He stepped on the doors, which had been knocked off their hinges by the principal’s passage through them. His slave gave the man no more notice than Damon himself. Students were leaving their classes as Damon emerged into the courtyard. On the way out, he encountered a cheerleader, her curvy body with a sweet rack displayed nicely by her uniform. Her less-attractive friends called what used to be her name as the cheerleader stared blankly into his eyes, her hips humping the air from the pleasure she was receiving from his mind. Slave #2 followed her new owner puppyishly, leaving the friends of her former self behind just like her old life. Damon scanned the parking lot until he found something sporty. He unlocked the trunk with his mind and put Slave #1 inside. Slave #2 took the passenger seat. At his mental direction, she slid her panties off and dropped them beside the car, which Damon started with his mind as easily as he had unlocked the trunk. He put the car in gear, backed out, almost ran over the actual owner, and left a trail of smoking rubber in the lot, cackling like a madman the whole time. He drove to the mall, his mind commanding anyone going slower than 110 to merge into the left lane so he could have a clear path. He parked in the fire lane and got both of his slaves out of the car. He walked into the big-and-tall store. He was now seven feet tall and powerfully built, so this was the only place he was going to find anything that would fit him. He threw what he was wearing onto the floor and grabbed things off the rack, trying them on right there in the middle of the aisle for anyone to see. Once he had eight casual outfits, one suit and four business-casual outfits, he grabbed the alarm tag remover from the clerk and dealt with all the tags.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” the man exclaimed. Damon willed the man into the ceiling, where his head got stuck in the air conditioner shaft.

“Well, that’s me taken care of,” he murmured to himself, “time to decorate my toys.” His slaves eagerly followed him to the fetish store. Damon sent the man who was checking IDs to go get the works at the beauty school. A red-haired hottie walked out of the back room.

“May I help y...” she began, but didn’t get the chance to finish. Slave #3 joined her pastless sisters at their owner’s side. Damon took the keys from his newest toy and locked up the store, flipping the sign to “closed.”

Damon smiled. The whole world could be had as easily as it could be wanted. He had his slaves try on harem costumes, crotchless panties, cupless bras, fetish costumes of other kinds and restraints of every description. He picked up some vibrating dildos and butt plugs and lube and put that in a separate bag. The slave fashion show was getting him turned on. He bent #3 over the counter and shoved himself into her dripping cunt from behind while she wore pink, fuzzy handcuffs. She moaned appreciatively as his eight-inch cock hammered into her. He was still hard even after he finished spraying her insides with his semen, so he lubed up one of the plugs and stuck it in #2’s ass, then seated himself in a chair and lowered her cunt onto his shaft. The blonde cheerleader gasped and cried out in pleasure, pinching and tweaking her nipples as her owner slid her up and down his pole. She screamed in ecstasy as he filled her. Semen was dripping down his shaft when he put her back on her wobbly feet, so the three slaves took turns licking him clean. He fastened seven-inch strap-ons onto Slaves #2 and 3 and ordered them to use them on Slave #1. Her mind wasn’t equipped to handle so much pleasure, and she passed out after six orgasms in three minutes. Laying her on the floor, Damon straddled her chest and woke her up with a touch of her mind.

“Mas...ter?” she asked. Damon lubed up her chest and ordered her to press her breasts around his shaft, and she did so, forming a slick tunnel for his cock. She slurped the head into her mouth when it emerged from between her tits as he fucked them. It took longer, but he eventually sprayed semen all over the underside of her chin, and the lower half of her face. Slave #2 sucked any remnants from his cock, while Slave #3 licked her slave-sister clean.

When at last he was ready to emerge, he was wearing one of his business-casual outfits—a blue one—and had dressed Slave #1 in a fetish version of a waitress outfit, #2 in a fetish cheerleader uniform, and #3 in a Princess Leia slave bikini. There were police waiting for him when he unlocked the door. He waved his hand, and they were brushed away like so many wads of used tissue.

These fools have no idea what they’re messing with. he thought to himself as he paused in a pet store to get collars for his slaves. He exited the mall, not even caring whether the car he’d driven here had been towed or not. He found a luxury sports sedan and piled his pets inside. Now for my revenge.