The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

On an average, slightly sunny day, in an average, slightly boring town, a well-dressed man calling himself Carter walked out of a grocery store. Suddenly, he stopped as he heard a booming, yet familiar, voice in his head. “Abusing your power again, Kendrel?”

He wheeled around with a smirk to see exactly the woman he’d expected, though she seemed to be wearing a slightly more modern body these days. He remembered when she’d used to paint her face with mercury, as was the fashion then; now she used modern synthetic makeup instead. Her effortless tan remained the same as ever, though as society had become less judgmental of younger women with a healthy libido, she’d smoothed out her wrinkles and colored the tips of her brown hair an icy blue. If any passers-by could see the pair, they’d think a middle-aged man was talking to a busty teen girl; but of course, in reality, she was centuries older than Carter, and besides, no one could see them now anyway. That was the convention for god-to-god conversations in public places.

“Adriel! Look at you, out and about! I haven’t spoken with you in 500 years, and yet your first comment is admonition. You truly haven’t changed, at least on the inside.” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up and down her youthful body.

“Oh, not admonition,” she replied. “Just curiosity. Why do you alter the humans so temporarily, Kendrel, and return them to normal the second you leave the room? Why not rule them forever like the god you are?”

Carter scoffed. “Ah, so not admonition, just gloating, then? I suppose that seems more appropriate coming from someone with your sort of ego.”

Adriel laughed. “No, no, not gloating, either. For that, I’d have to be in favor of the Pact, and we both know that’s as far from truth as can be imagined. Just consider it friendly teasing.” She smiled warmly.

“Fair enough,” Carter replied, and he sighed. “But it does still sting. You’re right, we should rule over the mortals. We should be their kings—and queens!” he added quickly, before Adriel’s temper had time to bring her palm against his cheek. “And yet, thanks to the misplaced and tangled moral fibers of our family, that’s never to be, so all I have are these ephemeral trysts. I don’t know whether I’m more frustrated in anger or insult anymore.”

“Oh, relax, brother. You act like it’s more palatable to be inside a human than a goddess! We both know you’d prefer it if I bent over right now.” She smiled coyly and wiggled her jeans-covered hips, showing off her toned belly under her crop-top shirt.

“Maintain focus, Adriel,” Carter said, brushing off his sister’s tempting advances. “As much I love a good party—and you know I do—this is about more than just sex. This is about our rightful place in the universe, our rightful power over those inferior creatures. This is about our kingdom that has been stolen from us by a corruption of conscience.”

Adriel rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of us... As I said, I, too, rejected the Pact, but in the end, it was bound in blood. It’s been millennia; there’s nothing we can do but accept it and move on in the lot we’ve been given.”

Carter’s eyes suddenly flared, bursting into flames so intense that even a goddess like Adriel couldn’t tell whether the fire was real or metaphorical. He grinned a wicked grin as he asked, “But what if there is more we can do? What if we have options now?”

Adriel’s brow furrowed. “Don’t be cryptic, brother; what are you talking about?”

“Ah, but perhaps you shouldn’t have teased me earlier, and I might be more willing to elaborate.”

“Oh, please. I’m not going to beg; either you’ll let me in on whatever scheme is wringing your brain out, or you won’t.”

Carter chuckled. “A compromise, then. There is one other person we’ll need to speak to, and if you come with me to meet her, you’ll learn everything.”

It was Adriel’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Our sister?”

“A human.”

“Consider me shocked and intrigued. I’ll come along, then. Oh, but do know, Carter,” she said, emphasizing the name facetiously, “that around the humans, I go by the name Alexa now.”

“Fair enough; I’ll introduce you as such when we—”

“I will introduce myself, thank you. I was simply informing you of the change. A queen does not need assistance in her own introduction, after all,” she joked, referring to his previous monarchy analogy. Then the two disappeared into thin air, and if anyone on the streets had seen them to begin with, that may have been quite the surprise.

Professor Lucy Fairchild removed her reading glasses and rubbed her temples. She knew she was healthy, and yet the stressful nature of grading her students’ vastly incorrect work gave her migraines almost daily. Offloading paperwork to her teacher’s aides was meant to prevent this, but the university still hadn’t found a replacement for Ricky after his sudden and unexpected resignation. Kids these days didn’t understand the importance of Two Weeks’ Notice.

Her migraine increased as she realized she was too young to be thinking the phrase “kids these days”. Her work in the field of neuroscience was unparalleled—some may have called it revolutionary—but she had only received her doctoral degree less than a year ago. She wasn’t one of those gray-haired, wrinkled old crones you think of when you consider the stereotypes of experienced women in fictional portrayals. She was, however, done grading papers for the night. If she read one more student’s thoughts on why oxytocin was the same as a love potion, she would scream.

She closed the small lamp illuminating her old desk and lay down on her faded couch. Though the television was on, but muted, she wasn’t watching; instead, she just closed her eyes and tried to get some rest. She had managed only five minutes of a failed attempt at this before she was startled by a loud and persistent knocking at her door. Suddenly there comes a tapping, as of someone gently rapping at my chamber door, she thought to herself, referencing one of her favorite poems for no reason other than personal amusement. She sighed, then stood to answer the door.

Upon opening it, she found a well-dressed, middle-aged man standing in the doorway, next to a scantily clad young woman with blue hair. She always did appreciate the relatively recent trend of unnaturally bright hair coloring, and if she could get away with it without being considered “unprofessional”, she’d probably try out some color herself. But anyway, she was getting distracted; she had a more important question to ask. “Can I...help you?”

“Actually, yes, you can,” the man said. “I’m Carter, this is—”

“I’m Alexa,” the woman interrupted, clearly unimpressed with his attempt at introducing her.

“Right. And we have an offer for you, if you’ll listen.”

Oh. Salespeople. Yuck. “Sorry, I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling. I’m a little busy right now.”

“Busy napping on your couch? Or just busy not grading any more essays? Maybe you’re simply busy dealing with the migraine that’s slowly getting worse the more I speak?”

Lucy’s heart began to pound. “What? How do you—who are you?” She tried to slam the door shut, but Carter’s foot jammed it.

“If I told you here, you wouldn’t believe me. So please, let us come in, we’ll sit down, and we’ll have a nice chat. I’ll explain it all and answer any questions you may have.”

“I said I’m not interested!” replied Lucy more aggressively; but no matter how much she tried to close the door, it wouldn’t budge. “Now leave or I’m calling the police!”

“Hard way, then?” Alexa asked.

“No, no, Ad—Alexa. We certainly could be more persuasive, but I want Lucy here to trust us. You’ll understand why soon enough.” Carter turned back to the panicking professor. “Why don’t you take a look out your window?”

Despite her severe misgivings, the request was so strange that Lucy turned her head to see what the man meant. She made sure to keep her hold on the door as strong as ever as she did, though. What she saw converted her emotions from fear to shock in mere milliseconds: outside her second-story window, a flock of birds hovered. They weren’t hovering of their own accord, though; their wings were motionless, they just refused to fall. In her surprise, Lucy absent-mindedly released her grip on the door and glided over closer to the window. She glanced downward, and saw a street filled with cars and a sidewalk filled with pedestrians—but nothing moved.

“That again, Carter?” Alexa complained. “You need some new tricks.”

“Until they devise a way to achieve this themselves, it will always convince them, dear sister, and that’s all that matters.” With the door unguarded, Alexa and Carter entered the apartment and closed it behind them.

“H....how?” Lucy could barely form a coherent sentence. “Am I dreaming? Stroking out? Suddenly schizophrenic?” She hesitated for a moment, staring outside, then turned her attention inside to the strange guests.

“Ever the neuroscientist,” Carter mused. “That’s good. It’s why we need you.”

“Explanations. Now.” Lucy had regained her composure enough to become demanding. She was a scientist, and as such, she had a naturally curiosity that needed to be satiated. “Who are you and what’s going on?”

“We’re gods, and we need your help.”

“...gods?” she asked, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, right. So you’re, what, Zeus and Athena come to America for vacation?”

“No, no, they do tend to stay in Greece. Very much homebodies, those Olympians. As I said, we’re Carter and Alexa; if you prefer our given names, Kendrel and Adriel. We’re not Greek, nor Norse, nor Hebrew.” He then gave the whole usual spiel correcting those silly human misconceptions: gods are natural, born of human parents, but with extraordinary abilities. They are nearly immortal, can manipulate reality, blah blah blah. The usual.

“Right....so because you stopped time—or made me think you did, anyway—that little magic trick is supposed to convince me you’re a superhero-slash-god?”

“What would be more convincing, Lucy?”

“I don’t know...something more god-like...maybe locusts or something?”

Carter smirked. “You mean like that little swarm over there?” He pointed to the kitchen, and when Lucy followed his finger, she saw a swarm of tiny insects buzzing around the table, but not coming any closer.

“You know, I almost said a plague...”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t; we need your help, and resurrecting a human takes quite a bit of energy.”

“Okay, so...” Lucy said, feeling behind her with her hands to find the couch and sit down without taking her eyes off the pair. “You’re...gods. Which are basically...superheroes with all the powers imaginable...and for some reason you need the help of a random neuroscientist from Brooklyn? Why?”

Alexa turned to her partner. “Yes, brother; why do we need her again? I’m growing tired of the anticipation.”

“It would probably be wise if I start from the beginning, for your sake, Dr. Fairchild. How much do you know of the Bible?”

“Not much in detail... just enough to know it’s all stories.”

“Much of it is, but as they say, every story is a pearl formed around the grain of sand that is truth. See, many Abrahamic people think their ancestors worshiped only one god, but that’s just not true. Their ancestors, the Canaanites, worshiped many of us. Too many to list in a practical amount of time, in fact. They mainly worshiped El and his little fuck buddy Asherah; the name Israel even means ‘ruled by El’, because they let him rule them. But El and Asherah...well, they were hornier than a pen of sexually frustrated rabbits. I swear, I could barely have a conversation with them in which they weren’t copulating the whole time.”

“I did once,” Alexa contributed. “Of course, before we’d finished talking, they were both going down on me, so...you know, we’ll call it a half-success.” Lucy scoffed.

“Anyway,” Carter continued, “the point is, they fucked a lot. Now, each god is slightly different, just like each human. Asherah, for her part, was considered the goddess of orchards...because she was fertile as all hell. Takes humans 9 months to gestate a baby, but it took her mere weeks. And with the amount of intercourse she and El partook in, she ended up bearing 70 sons, all gods. One of those sons was Yaweh.”

“I know that name,” Lucy said. “Isn’t that the Jewish God, capital G?”

“Yes, and how he got that throne is what’s important here. You see, despite his eternal erection, El was a very fair and just god, and one with a soft spot for humanity. Probably because they worshiped him, if I had to guess; who doesn’t love their ego stroked? So one day, El decided he would split all the humans in the world into 70 groups, and each of his sons would watch over one of those groups. Yaweh was assigned to watch over Israel.

But Yaweh...he had a temper. His rage could be enough to make some of the other gods tremble. I’d like to pretend I didn’t fear him, but I would be lying. The Canaanites felt his wrath and declared Yaweh their god of war; he accepted the role and led them into victory after victory, though he didn’t have much concern for the human casualties he left behind him.

But eventually, all the love and worship he received from the Canaanites started to go to Yaweh’s head.He became jealous of any other god the humans admired. He wanted all the attention, all the respect, all the fear. So that’s when he decided to overthrow his father. I never knew how he did it, but one day, El was gone and Yaweh was in his place. He took his mother for his new wife, and Asherah feared him enough to stay for awhile. His brothers all feared him as well, especially after he had overpowered their father, so they obeyed his commands to stay out of the humans’ lives. And as for explaining this to the humans, it was simple: he just told them he had been El all along, and their tiny human brains believed it. No offense.”

“Um, none taken...I think...” Lucy was trying to process all this information. If it had been a story, a myth, she could suspend her disbelief and enjoy the fiction. But if this was all true...it took some time for her brain to catch up. Which almost proved Carter’s insult true.

“Eventually, Asherah left her sons, and Yaweh just told his followers that she didn’t exist, either, because only Yaweh was the One True God. His ego had grown larger than his place in the universe, but the strength in his anger allowed it to continue. Until one day, another god named Samael had had enough. He gave himself the name Lucifer—’light bringer’—and rebelled against Yaweh, attempting not to take over his rule, but simply to defeat it. In the end, Lucifer realized Yaweh was just too powerful to destroy, and so he devised a plan: during a struggle, Lucifer created a small pocket universe and dragged Yaweh into it, trapping both of them inside to fight to the death. You could call that pocket universe Hell if you like. Some gods believe Yaweh or Lucifer or both are dead, and have been for centuries. I think they’re both still alive, still fighting, and are so evenly matched that none will ever win. But with Yaweh gone, the rest of us gods can find some space in the world again, and the humans can believe whatever stories they tell themselves at night about why their Mighty God no longer speaks to them unless they’re insane.”

Lucy sighed. “O...kay. Wow. That’s a lot to take in.”

Alexa, on the other hand, seemed bored. “Okay, so you’ve caught the human up to speed on everything we already know. I lived through Yaweh’s reign, I didn’t need to hear all about it again. So I hope we’re up to the part where you tell us what you’re planning and why this mortal is not as insignificant as she seems? And no,” she added, pointing to Lucy without looking at her, “you’re not allowed to be offended by that, because yes, I am a god to whom you are no more interesting than a house cat.”

“Is she always an asshole?” Lucy asked, starting to get used to the fact that she was conversing with gods.

“Adriel can be abrasive, but you must understand what it’s like to be a god in a world filled with humans.”

“Just get to the point, Kendrel!” Carter’s sister had run out of all patience.

“As soon as I explain the Pact to Dr. Fairchild!” the man scolded. “See, after the Yaweh debacle, many of our brothers and sisters designed a Pact. They decided that, to prevent another godly dictator from gaining too much power, we gods would not be allowed to rule over humans. Ever. No encouraging worship, no defining morality, none of the things that inflated Yaweh’s ego. And they signed it in blood; a god’s blood is more powerful than any contract a lawyer could write up. Basically, even if we wanted to rule, we couldn’t. It’s just not possible as long as the Pact remains. But I...believe I’ve found a loophole.”

“What?!” exclaimed both Lucy and Alexa simultaneously.

“The Pact applies to all gods on Earth at the time of the signing, and all gods who would ever be born. Our brothers and sisters assumed that would cover everyone. But not every god was on Earth when it was formulated...some were trapped in entirely new universes...”

“If you’re about to say ‘bring Lucifer back’, I’m walking out this door and you won’t see me for another thousand years,” Alexa reprimanded.

“No, no; Lucifer was the ultimate freedom fighter against Yaweh; there’s no doubt he’d follow the Pact anyway, or maybe even retroactively sign it with his own blood. But what if Yaweh didn’t actually kill his father? I always wondered how El was defeated; despite Yaweh’s rage, El was clearly stronger than his miserable son. So I started to wonder: what if it never happened? What if, like Lucifer trapping Yaweh in another universe, Yaweh had done the same to his father? That would mean El is still alive, trapped somewhere in the aether, and immune to the Pact. He ruled over the world before Yaweh; he’d surely be in favor of trying again. And he’d reward those gods who rescue him, surely, the same way he rewarded his sons: by giving us domain over a section of humanity.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Lucy yelled, standing up from the couch. “I still don’t know why you need me, but what the hell makes you think I’m going to help you find a way to rule over humans? You do remember that I’m one of them, yes?”

“Very much; that’s unforgettable. But consider that I could quite easily force you to help, but I’m not. I need you to trust that under our rule, the world will be a better place for gods and humans alike. And I know you will, because I know about your secret research. That experiment you’ve been designing in the depths of your brain, the one you haven’t even written down anywhere. Your solution to the world’s problems through neurological engineering; altering brains to make people more empathetic, more moral, more sensitive to each others’ plight. Despite your current objection to being ruled, you secretly want to be the ruler, albeit for rather selfless reasons. And I find that admirable. If you help us return El to this world, I will ensure you will be able to use your methods to improve at least my portion of the global population. I’ll even help you with your research, though not so much that you’ll lack challenge. In short, I will allow you to fix the world as you see fit and live the life of intellectual pursuit you’ve always dreamed of. All I need from you is your time.”

Lucy considered the offer. She had been imagining fixing broken people through science; but that was just a fantasy, right? It’s not something she’d ever do... in fact, it would be immoral, wouldn’t it? Except, how is it immoral to reduce immorality? How is it selfish to promote selflessness? How is it egotistical to encourage empathy? Maybe the idea wasn’t so crazy after all. Maybe Carter, Alexa, El, and the other gods would do a better job ruling over the world than humans or Yaweh ever did... Maybe...