The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Paris. The City of Lights. Arguably, the most beautiful city in all of Europe, a mix of ancient times and modern conveniences, a haven for tourists from around the world. But as with all cities, there is a darker side to Paris. A side that isn’t shown in the tourist books or commercials, the side that Paris, like all cities, wishes didn’t exist. But it does. A darker side, a side populated by the lower-class or even no-class. The poor, the addicted, the criminal, the homeless, the people society attempted to sweep under the rug and forget about. But they existed and they still made their presence felt. Some in different ways than others.

When her parents had died a few years earlier, Virgine had thought Paris would be the perfect place to start her new life. Like all citizens of France, she felt a special pride for her nation’s capital, pride in the beauty and history within it. That feeling had lasted until roughly an hour after she was robbed of most of her belongings and had been forced into a demeaning waitress job at a run-down café that barely allowed her to break even. Calling her apartment home was an overstatement. Calling it livable was an overstatement but unfortunately, it was all Virgine could afford at the moment.

Her sole joy were the walks she took during the day, a way of burning off energy as well as trying to fill her lonely hours. That was what really got to Virgine, the loneliness. She hadn’t been able to sleep with a man in months. Not that they didn’t want to sleep with her. At 19, he was exceptionally beautiful, with long black hair and what she knew was a body in fine shape with a great ass and a full bosom that got a lot of attention. However, she wasn’t about to lower herself to sleeping with the men she met at work. She had more respect for herself than that. But there was little she could do to meet anyone. She had no friends, no relatives, no one to care for her and life in the big city was far from the dream she had been expecting.

So, the walks she took through the city were her only source of solace. A way to get away from her problems, see the art and architecture of Paris and her people and imagine her life being different. She walked during the day and sometimes on her nights off, taking in the life around her and wondering why it couldn’t be hers.

She shivered in the cool night, the thin jacket, jeans and shirt all the protection she had. She was walking on a quiet bridge on the Seine, the Eiffel Tower rising high over the buildings nearby. Virgine wasn’t worried about muggers. One of the advantages of being poor was that you had little to lose in terms of money. She had a can of mace, her sole extravagance, and was prepared to run but doubted she would need to. She leaned against the side of the bridge, staring off into the distance at the bright lights of the Tower.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Virgine turned to see a woman standing behind her. She was unquestionably from good money. She was dressed in a dark black dress that hugged the contours of her thin but sexy body. While not as large as Virgine’s, her bosom seemed rather ample. Her dark brown hair was done up in an elegant bun on her head, her beautiful face highlighted by a pair of diamond earrings and a necklace to match. She smoking a cigarette held in a long holder, letting a large cloud of smoke leave her mouth. “Ah, no matter many times I stare at it, it always takes my breath away,” she said in a cultured voice. She stepped up a bit glancing at Virgine with a professional eye. “My name is Juliette, by the way. What is yours?”

“Virgine,” the girl replied, giving a simple nod as she went back to staring into space. “All it looks like to me is something else I can’t have. Like everything else in my life.”

“Really?” Juliette asked, arching an eyebrow. “What does your family say about that attitude.”

“I have no family,” Virgine replied. “Or friends or anything else that truly matters in my life. Just a dead-end job, a horrible apartment and no prospects. Not the sort of life I ever hoped for myself.”

“Yes, we rarely get what we want out of life,” Juliette said as she came up slightly behind Virgine. “I guess that’s why the Tower seems so intriguing. It’s a symbol of what could be, all the dreams of so many people in this city, dreams of success and dreams of love. SO many dreams, all in one city. Just look at it, my dear, look at the tower and you can practically feel all the dreams inside it. So many dreams, Virgine, so many dreams all in one spot. Just look at the Tower, Virgine, look at the tower and think of all the dreams you have, Virgine. All the dreams you have when you sleep. Think of all the dreams you have when you sleep, Virgine, when you are asleep, think of all the dreams you have when you are asleep. When you feel so tired and sleepy, so sleepy, when you are drifting off into sleep and you can dream. You can’t really dream when you are awake, Virgine, you have to be asleep, you have to sleep to dream, you have to be asleep in order to dream, Virgine. Just let your eyes close, Virgine, let your eyes close and drift to sleep, a nice, deep sleep, a very deep sleep, a sleep deep enough to dream. Sleep and dream, Virgine, you want to sleep and dream. That’s right, Virgine, let your eyes close and let yourself drift to sleep, drift into a deep sleep, Virgine, drift into a nice deep sleep and dream. Sleep and dream, Virgine, sleep and dream. Sleep and dream.”

By this point, Virgine’s head was slumped forward and Juliette had to hold her limp body up as the girl slipped into a light trance. “Sleep, Virgine, sleep deeply. As you sleep, you can dream, Virgine. Dream of my voice, Virgine, dream of my voice coming to you, dream of my voice coming into your mind, into your sleep. Dream of me, Virgine, dream of me lulling you further and further into sleep. Just dream, Virgine, just dream of me lulling you to sleep, dream of lulling you to sleep........”

Virgine’s dreams were a jumble of images. Feelings of her being led away to some sort of vehicle but no memory of the ride. Being led through a massive series of hallways, down some stairs and into a bed. She partly registered that she was naked by this point, her skin lying on the most beautiful set of sheets she had ever felt. And above all this, above all in this dream, there was Juliette’s voice, her soft, beautiful voice, flowing into her ears and telling her to go deeper, to always go deeper.

At one point in her dream, a new image appeared. It was so strange, it was as if her eyes suddenly opened and there it was. A bright white and black spiral, spinning about in mind. It was so soothing, so intriguing, that Virgine instantly felt herself falling deeper and deeper into her sleep, her mind focused on the spiral and the spiral alone. It was so beautiful, as was everything in her dream. The spiral continuously spinning as other images began to appear in Virgine’s mind. Images of naked women, of their full breasts and pussies, licking and kissing at one another. Images of Juliette, her lips always moving, always telling her to sleep, to dream. Wonderful Juliette, gorgeous Juliette, the woman who helped her create this dream. Virgine was so grateful to her for this, for this beautiful dream, this wonderful dream. She wanted the dream to go one forever and knew it could. Mistress Juliette could make it so. Mistress could make the dream go on, the dream of Paris, the dream of love. This wonderful dream of Paris love. Paris love. Paris Mistress. Mistress Love. Love Mistress. Love Mistress. Dream of loving Mistress. Dream of Loving Mistress.

Juliette sat in the center of the small chamber below her mansion, risen up on the large sofa chair that stood on the circular platform in the center of the room. She glanced about at the group around her. Twenty beautiful women of varying ages. Each one totally naked. Each one staring blankly before her, lost in her own dreams. Prostitutes, runaways, drug addicts, homeless, criminal, the kind no one would miss. They now had a purpose. A purpose more important than anything that had ever mattered to them in their lives. Serving their Mistress.

Juliette sat back, naked herself, her pussy well-shaven, her tight breasts tingling with the anticipation that always came when a new arrival. She glanced up as the doors opened. Two more naked women appeared, both wearing the same blank stares as the others. In between them was the naked Virgine. Juliette’s smile widened. The girl was even more beautiful than she thought, her full breasts hanging well, her black bush a bit wild but still inviting. The two guards brought Virgine to the bottom of the platform, then turned and kneeled in the circle.

Juliette stared at Virgine, taking in the gorgeous beauty and blank expression. She licked her lips before speaking. “Virgine, it is time to fulfill your dream.” Instantly, Virgine moved up the platform until she was standing before the sofa. She stood stock still as Juliette moved forward and pushed her face into Virgine’s wet clit. Her hands snaked around to Virgine’s ass, squeezing it as her tongue slid into Virgine’s pussy. Virgine gave an involuntary hiss but otherwise showed no reaction as Juliette began to slowly slide her tongue in and out of her pussy. Juliette was taking her time, knowing that this was torturing Virgine and loving it. Her hands gripped Virgine’s ass tighter, Juliette licked away at Virgine and could see the programming taking hold as her juices fell onto her tongue. To her credit, Virgine let out only a slight gasp as she came, remaining stock-still throughout. Juliette slowly lifted her tongue up Virgine’s body, leaving a trail of cum as she came to those terrific breasts, slowly licking each nipple and loving the way Virgine’s body stiffened at her touch.

Juliette broke away and sat back, spreading her legs. “Complete your Paris dream, Virgine.” At the command, Virgine fell to her knees and pushed her face in between Juliette’s legs. Instantly, her mistress clamped her thighs around her head and held on tight as Virgine started to lick at her. Her licks were faster and more frenetic, her desire coming loose and overriding any control. Juliette was amazed at how good she was, taking to this far faster than any of her other slaves. She held her grip and let her nails rake along Virgine’s back, leaving scratches but she never even noticed, so lost was she in absolute desire. Her tongue lapped away at Juliette’s pussy, her hands reaching up to Juliette’s breasts, gripping them tight as she licked away. Soon, Juliette was coming and as Virgine swallowed the sweet juices, her devotion to her Mistress was complete.

Juliette let go of Virgine’s head and sat up. “Virgine, join the circle.” She watched as Virgine, pussy dripping from her lips, moved to the circle and knelt in an open and empty spot. Juliette stared at her, then at the circle of her other slaves, appraising them and wondering which would be the first to help initiate Virgine in her new role. Juliette felt no regret at what she had done. These women were lost in a permanent dream of pleasure and a life of devotion to their Mistress, a far greater fate than they would have enjoyed without Juliette. Paris was the City of Lights. In Juliette’s mind, removing these useless forms and giving them a purpose made her city look all the brighter.