The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

February 2nd, 2010

“Awww, good boy.” Katarina, or Kat, as she preferred to be called, purred.

Kat wasn’t very tall, she stood only 150 centimeters in height. Yet, she towered over the man in front of her, a full 190 centimeters of muscle and flesh. He was drenched in sweat and he shivered as Kat took a step toward him. She reached up with her arm and tapped him once on the nose. The man was completely naked, but Kat was fully dressed.

Dressed to kill. She’d always loved heels, not because they gave her height, but because they were fun. Four inch stilettos, black, with straps over her nylon covered feet. Black nylons and a short, black skirt that hung down around mid-thigh, with the last inch or so flaring out in short, ruffled pleats. Her top was a simple white halter top, with a deep neckline plunge that showed off her chest, while the clingy white material of the top stuck like a fitted glove with her narrowing waist. Kat’s auburn hair was creatively piled atop her head before cascading down in a carefully arranged chaos of curls.

The man continued to stand there like a statue. The only thing that moved were his eyes, darting around, looking for others to whom he might get help, searching for exits, and sparing glances at the short woman who stood in front of him, a smile of false courtesy worn on her pretty face.

Kat wrapped her hand around the man’s pulsing erection. “So cute, Gregor. Who knew you got off on being tortured, a big brute like you?” She gave a coy giggle, which would have made her seem vapid were it not for the dangerous look like fire in her eyes.

Gregor swallowed, but otherwise remained motionless.

Kat’s slender fingers curled around the large cock and began to pump. In spite of himself, Gregor felt his erection stiffening, his body shifting blood rapidly to the organ. Licking her lips with a salvacious look on her cherubic features, Kat gave several firm tugs before her free hand flew to Gregor’s balls and squeezed as though she were trying to crack an egg.

Even Kat’s use of her gift could not compel him to remain silent through the painful groan that escaped his lips. Tears began to well up in Gregor’s eyes, eyes that were certainly not familiar with the concept of crying. His face flushed red, burning with the intensity of hot coals as his body diverted the blood flow from his dick.

Gregor softened slightly, to which Kat gripped it ever tighter, “tsk tsk. I didn’t say you were done. HARD. NOW.” Her words started playfully, in that teasing tone that was set off by her high voice. However, the last two words thrummed with something deeper and more primal. Gregor’s cock hardened again instantly.

“There, there. Good boy.” Kat patted Gregor’s arm. “Now, you’re going to tell me who sent you and why, and if I’m not TOO upset, I might let you keep your precious... thing...” Her eyes darted down to the engorged cock in her hands. She gave another gentle squeeze to Gregor’s balls, eliciting a delicious whimper from the massive man.

“Not... ...going... ...to tell you... anything... ...bitch...” Gregor managed to utter through clenched teeth.

“Mmmm. Wrong answer.” Kat squeezed Gregor’s balls again, tightly. “TELL ME.”

Again, Kat’s words reverberated with some primal sort of power. However, Gregor remained silent. Losing patience, but retaining her tight grip on his cock, Kat hurtled her mental consciousness against Gregor’s mind. She was met by a wall that felt like steel. The force of the barrier was enough for her grip on Gregor’s dick to momentarily slacken. Gregor’s hand twitched, but Kat narrowed her eyes and refocused her control over his immobility.

“So... resistant. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Kat purred.

There was a rating system that the UGA used to describe the varying level of power among its members. Gregor was a six, a formidable foe, but not nearly powerful enough to be a top dog. The head of the UGA was always, exclusively, a ten, a Gifted with extraordinary powers and gifts. Kat had only been tested once, and she had broken the scale. She’d been listed as “unrated”, a dubious distinction that gained her more infamy than honor. Most Gifted had refused to interact with or acknowledge her.

The thing that kept most Gifted safe was that, an individual who had sufficiently practiced the Iron Defense could effectively defend themselves against a Gifted with significantly greater power than their own. It was one of the few things that kept the UGA from devolving into utter chaos. Kat wasn’t the only unrated Gifted, and while most shared her notoriety, some had established themselves well enough to earn their own sort of fearful respect.

Kat was tired of the patriarchy of the UGA, however. It was widely known that there were at least as many female Gifted than male, likely more, and yet there had never been a single female Gifted in the Elite Four, or the Council of Eight. One of the highest stations most women could hope to achieve were as Secretaries or Assistants to those on the Council and in the Elite. It was disgusting.

Lip curling, Kat hurtled herself against Gregor’s defensive barrier again. She felt a sense satisfaction as the big man winced. However, his defense held, and Kat’s breathing picked up as her own grip over Gregor’s consciousness momentarily relaxed. This time, his arm twitched.

The Iron Defense was a powerful tool, but it had a distinct weakness. Kat released Gregor’s scrotum and a momentary expression of relief flitted across his features, as though he could hardly believe his luck. However, that expression twisted into raw agony as Kat’s knee slammed up into his groin with all of the force of a jackhammer. In spite of Kat’s hold over his consciousness, Gregor doubled over in pain, his watering eyes finally letting tears fall.

In that brief window, Kat plunged into Gregor’s consciousness once more, with all of the ease as though she’d strolled through an open gate into a park. Like many of their gifts, the Iron Defense required an intense amount of concentration. When that concentration was broken, the defense fell apart.

Of course, the cost of invading Gregor’s mind meant that Kat’s concentration had been diverted from keeping Gregor immobile. He swung a meaty paw in her direction. Dividing her attention two times, into three parts, she was able to easily side-step the blow. Like all Gifted, Kat had an extraordinary athleticism. However, even a Norm would have been able to evade Gregor’s sluggish swing. He moved like a drunk man, still struggling against her weak hold over his ability to move.

By splitting her attention to three parts, Kat had voluntarily given up something from each. She was slower and weaker than normal, her vice-like grip over Gregor’s bodily systems had become anemic, and her quest through his consciousness was slow, as though she were treading water rather than swimming. Nevertheless, it was enough to hold off Gregor while she searched for what she wanted.

A man in a dark suit rose from a chair, one which faced away from Gregor to look out the window to the vast city below. The man was tall, and his hair was startlingly white, but still full atop his head. He wore a suit, finely tailored to his slender build.

When the man turned, he was instantly recognizable as the President of the UGA, Edward Smart. His distinct, wire-rimmed glasses were perched over a beak-like nose. His narrow face was clean shaven, but filled with the crags and crevices that came with age. His barely visible lips were pale and pursed in a thin line.

“She has become a problem, Gregor. Surely you understand this?”

Gregor nodded, “Certainly, sir. But, the Eli—”

“Do not need to know every little thing I do. They have power, Gregor, but I alone am President, do you question MY authority?” President Smart’s voice was cold, and eerily high, but that did not detract from the strength with which he spoke.

“No- I didn’t mean. I—” Gregor sputtered.

“Didn’t think? Hardly surprising of you, Gregor. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I went behind the head of the GIA to get you placed where you are now. He was not happy at all, but I’m sure Calvin would be happy to have you under him again...”

“That will not be- be necessary, sir. What do you wish of me?”

“Take care of the problem, before she becomes a nuisance, Gregor. I will not tolerate her bleating any further.” President Smart gave a dismissive wave of his hand and turned to face the window once more.

Gregor was on the ground now, Kat had him in a chokehold. However, she wasn’t even aware of that quite yet, her mind was still reeling from the shock of the answer she had found. It certainly wasn’t something she had neglected to consider, but it was as though her worst nightmare had been confirmed. The President himself wanted her gone.

Kat was more familiar with President Smart than most. She had been his personal assistant for five years. He was demanding, often cruel, and he was an exceptionally powerful Gifted as well. While he was rated a ten, she suspected that he was much more powerful than that. It had taken everything she had to resist his manipulations, and she’d still nearly ended up his personal plaything. Kat shuddered at the memory, repulsed. Gregor went limp in her arms and she knew he’d fallen unconscious.

Getting back on her feet was a chore. While she moved around well enough in her beloved heels, it was always a bit more difficult to regain footing once lost, or, as in this case, voluntarily given up. She should have killed him then and there, but Kat wanted to send a different sort of message. Striding across the bare concrete floor of the basement in her hideout, she found a tool chest and, without hesitating, opened the third drawer.

Inside were a variety of unusual tools, but their purpose was quite clear: each of them were designed to torture male genitalia in some excruciating way. The one that Kat reached for was a particularly devilish device. Once locked over a man’s cock, the sharp needles on the interior of its four bands would begin to press back against the expanding girth of an erect cock.

Kat wasted no time in setting the device up. She knew now that her situation was far more perilous than she had led herself to believe. Gregor would come to at any moment, and by then she needed to be gone. He would call in back up, and she would be trapped like a rat in a dumpster. In spite of the desperateness of her situation, Kat allowed herself a moment of sadistic glee as she finished locking the torture device into place.

In normal sex play, the toy would have been set just loose enough to hurt and not to maim, and would eventually be taken off. However, she had intentionally chosen one that was too small for Gregor’s girth, and she had no intention of taking it off. The toy would become a weapon, and she felt not the barest sense of pity for the agony Gregor would find himself in. His only relief would be to chop it off. He would serve as a poignant reminder of what happened tro those who crossed Katarina Ovechkin.

2010–2012

Kat had to change her name. She had to change everything. The UGA was not a medieval organization that struggled to keep up with the times as it had been before World War II. It was a multinational organization with virtually global jurisdiction and had access to the intelligence services of every major nation. It was not enough to simply use a different name, she had to reinvent her identity.

Thankfully, Kat had a childhood friend who would fit her needs. The girl, Anna Yukov, had passed away suddenly at the tender age of eight due to a brain aneurysm. Most importantly, she had been a Norm, and so she wasn’t on the UGA’s radar. Getting herself to look like a grown version of Anna had proven more difficult.

Anna had coppery red hair, much lighter than the auburn shades of Kat’s own hair. They had been of similar size growing up, but both of Anna’s parents were quite tall, Anna had been expected to reach at least 162cm. Further, Anna had a more angular face than Kat, with high-set cheekbones as opposed to Kat’s more rounded visage. Where Kat’s eyes were a chocolate brown, Anna’s eyes had been a startling blue.

Fortunately, due to a slave market that catered toward customization, the technology existed for Kat to change her appearance quite drastically. It wasn’t cheap, but Kat had never had difficulty acquiring funds due to her gifts. However, the process was also painful, and, to some extent, degrading. Kat loved who she was and how she looked. It felt as though her own identity were becoming erased, and, in truth, that was exactly what was happening. Katarina Ovechkin would disappear into thin air. Replaced, instead, by the reclusive and mysterious Anna Yukov, a seemingly eccentric billionaire.

The hardest part was convincing herself that she was Anna. It wasn’t enough for her to have a new look and a new name. As far as Kat was concerned, she had to become Anna Yukov. Only then would her identity remain successfully secret.

October 23rd, 2011

“I am Anna Yukov. I am Anna Yukov.” Kat, no, Anna, repeated the phrase to herself under her breath as she gazed into the mirror in her master bath.

The woman who looked back at her from the mirror was certainly not Katarina. That, at least, made it a bit more believable, even if Anna still felt like Kat. She was pretty, but in ways that were entirely different from how Kat had looked pretty.

Anna’s coppery hair framed her delicate facial features in soft, wavy curls that gracefully cascaded across her shoulders and down her back. Her blue eyes were startling. They were big, like a doll’s eyes, and bright, inquisitive, yet touched with a certain innocence that Kat had never seemed to possess.

Her body was different too. Kat had been voluptuous, but Anna possessed different curves. Anna looked down at her slender body. She had been relieved that she had kept her treasured athleticism even after all of the surgeries. However, she had lost a good portion of her strength in her effort to effect the slender, waifish build that had been a part of who Anna had been.

Anna’s chest was a mere B-cup, and barely that. She did sport a narrower waist than she had as Kat, which made her hips, though far narrower, appear fuller and more in contrast with the rest of her body. She had traded in her hourglass for a pear shape.

Frustrated, Anna reached for the dress that hung on the door behind her. It was a modest, if flouncy affair, white, but decorated with pink flowers, it had short sleeves and clung to her slender figure as though it had been tailored just for her, as indeed it had. The skirts of the dress fell down to just above her knees, separated into two layers of ruffled pleats. It was a pretty dress, but it was a dress for Anna Yukov, not Kat.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Anna plucked her way over to the king-size bed in her massive bedroom. The bed was composed of four-posters, with pure white sheets and drapery, it was a bed straight out of a doll’s dream house. Lying neatly on the tucked in covers was a pair of white tights. These, Anna rolled up her legs slowly, layering them over white-with-pink-polka-dot panties.

Next came her heels. More sensible than Kat’s favorite stilettos, her wedge sandals still sported a three inch, chunky heel. The overall effect made her notably taller than Kat had ever been. It was an adjustment, but it was one of the few that Anna had quickly become accustomed to.

“Ms. Yukov?” A small blond woman peeked her head through the door, searching for Anna.

Clearing her throat, Anna replied in her high soprano voice, falling into the former category, of things that had taken quite some time to become accustomed to, “Yes? Oh! Winny, dear.” Anna affected a polite, girlish giggle, “You should make sure I’m decent first.”

Winny blushed a little, and her worried her bottom lip with her teeth before whispering, “Sorry, Ms. Yukov.”

There was something adorable in the way that Winny glanced demurely at the floor, submissively responding to Anna’s admonition, as though she had been chastised far more strictly than had been the case.

One thing that had changed about Anna was that she had retained Kat’s Gifted powers. However, she used them far more delicately than she ever had, for she had remained unregistered, so as to remain underneath the UGA’s radar.

Winny had been Anna’s annoying, bratty sister. Only two years younger, she had always pestered Kat and Anna to play. When Anna passed, Winny had tried to insert herself as Kat’s new best friend, but, even then, Kat was not someone to be messed with, and she had shut Winny down quickly, spreading salacious rumors that Winny was kissing all the boys, smoking cigarettes, and doing all sorts of things that were far out of character for someone her age. However, Kat, aided by her gifts, was able to coerce her peers into believing the lies. Winny’s life became a living hell, and she stopped trying to be friends with Kat.

After being forced to become Anna, Anna had set out to locate the members of Anna’s immediate family, who would be most dangerous to the credibility of her sudden appearance in the world, when she was supposed to be dead. She modified the memories of Anna’s parents easily enough. However, Winny had been far more difficult to track down. She eventually found Winny turning tricks on the corner in a seedy part of Detroit in the American Union. It delighted Kat’s, no, Anna’s, sadistic side that her cruel rumors had developed into a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy, wreaking so much chaos into Winny’s life that she had only believed herself worth enough to sell her body on the streets.

It had taken the better part of Anna’s gifts in order to mold and shape Winny into the slavish maid that was currently gazing, chastised, at the floor. Her rewriting of Winny’s memories had been so thorough that she had been able to convince Winny that she was not, in fact, a Yukov of Ukraine, but that, instead, she had been born and raised in the American Union. An altogether dim girl, the new Winny had dropped out of school. However, terrified of drugs, alcohol, and the entire street-walker life, she had turned toward menial housekeeping services, eventually being hired by “Mistress Yukov.”

Anna had been the only kind owner that Winny had ever had, and so she dutifully did everything that “Miss Yukov” asked of her. Eventually signing away her legal rights and becoming Anna’s slave.

Winny’s transformation, difficult and burdensome as it was, had given Anna the inspiration she needed to finally shed her former identity as Kat. Anna had become someone that she would have, as Kat, been repulsed by. Sweet and dripping with courtesy, Anna’s only outward indication of struggling against the authorities was in that she had remained single for so long. Anna hadn’t lost her distaste for the patriarchy, but returning to her fierce, fighting ways would only put her in the lime light, and potentially expose her for who she really was.

So, as Anna, she passively accepted that, as a woman, she wouldn’t be seen as the equal of a man. Anna used this situation to her advantage, shaping a life of quiet isolation, and allowing any of the men who did interact with her to think that they had her under their thumb.

Anna offered a sugary smile, “It’s alright, Winny. I know you meant well. As it happens, I’m ready.”

Winny looked up and beamed at Anna, “You’re ready for church, ma’am?”

“That I am, is the car ready?”

Winny nodded quickly, “I can’t find Jefferson though, miss Yukov. Would you- do you want me to drive?”

Anna knew that her driver, Jefferson, was locked away in her hidden dungeon in the basement. She had discovered that he was another rogue Gifted, and had been intending to overthrow her mind and assume her position. This had not ended well for the driver, who currently lay naked, face-down on a table, with a metallic dildo ramming in and out of his ass.

Shaking her head, Anna spoke gently, “It’s alright, dear. I’ll drive. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” Winny beamed, completely missing the condescension amidst Anna’s perfectly executed, sweet-natured demeanor.

Kat had never believed in God, and, as a result, neither did Anna, but it was all part of the appearance she wished to maintain. The real Anna had gone to church every Sunday with her parents, and it helped build the sort of character that she wanted to project if she were a regular at the local Baptist church.

Anna was one of the church’s most active members and, in spite of being only twenty-five years old, had managed to become a deacon.

“KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD, BIMBO.”

Anna blinked, she had drifted off into auto-pilot and hadn’t realized the light in front of her was still green even as she braked and slowed down. The car beside her had clearly tried to speed around, but the light had already gone from green to yellow and yellow to red before the guy in that car could blow through the intersection.

He had his window rolled down now, and his face was purple with his exploding rage.

Anna merely looked back at the man with those innocent blue eyes. The man’s anger seemed to subside a little, as though he couldn’t remain quite so angry at such an attractive, innocent woman. However, when she spoke, though her voice was quite high, her words reverberated with a primal power, and he knew at once that she was not as innocent and meek as he had imagined.

“How dare you. You will feel ashamed of yourself. You will drive straight home and tell your wife that you have been cheating on her with a man. If you are straight, you will now find that you are bisexual, but really enjoy submitting to really large, strong gay men. You will find such a man and give yourself to him. Outwardly, you will be happy, but inside you will remember who you really are, though you will never quite remember who did this to you, nor will you ever be able to tell anyone.”

A car horn honked behind her. Anna looked and found that the light was green once again. She pulled away, leaving the man in the other car gaping as she continued to stare at where she had been. Anna looked through her rearview mirror and was pleased to find that the man had only recollected himself by the time the light had turned once more. She had a self-satisfied smile as she entered church that morning, but only Winny and the man knew what had made her feel so good, and neither one of them would be speaking of it.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was good. She would be patient, her opportunity for vengeance would prove itself in due time.