The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I stood at the front of the boat—or stern of the ship or whatever, I dunno, I don’t speak sailor—and watched as the Isle of Munn inched closer. “Sure we can’t go any faster?” I asked the captain.

“Ar, no,” he told me. “She’s goin’ as fast as the winds’ll allow.”

I shrugged and turned back to the approaching island. I’d heard stories about this place—a tiny little island, largest of the dozen little islands scattered between the largest of the Tin Islands, where Iason and I had spent all our time thus far, and the second-largest island, which held the kingdom of Yr. Out of all these little islands, Munn was the only one considered one of the Seven Kingdoms in its own right, though it was definitely the smallest of the kingdoms.

Mostly that was because, unlike the other little islands, all of which either paid tribute to one of the Seven Kingdoms for protection or got raided by them on a regular basis, no one who tried to invade Munn ever came back. Nobody really knew all that much about it—the few traders who went there remained in the small port town of Kiondroghad on the eastern shore, on pain of death if they left. They reported mostly quiet, ordinary people, but on the other hand, every once in awhile (or so the stories went) someone would bring back some marvelous object or terrible curse.

As far as the Tin Islanders were concerned, Munn was a place of magic and danger second only to Lemuria itself. Rumor said its king was an immortal wizard-god, that some kind of goblin wandered the land tricking and enchanting people—pretty ridiculous stuff!

But even before we landed, I could feel the magic of the place. Not a ton by my standards, but still more than I’d felt anywhere else since I left Lemuria. And, more importantly, I could feel a book waiting for me, somewhere ahead of us.

As we stepped out onto the pier, I asked Iason, “Do you ever get the feeling you’ve done something before?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Never mind.”

Once we debarked, that just left the problem of how to get out of town. Other than the harbor, there was just one gate letting people in and out, and that was heavily guarded.

“We could try posing as locals,” Iason suggested. I looked at him, tall and bronze, with dark eyes and curly dark hair, and considered my own petite build, auburn hair, and light brown eyes. Then I looked at the villagers, with their short, stocky builds, straight dark hair, and blue eyes.

“Not sure that’ll work,” I said. “We could try going over the wall?

“Ever tried to climb over a wall in full armor?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Really?” said Iason.

“No.”

“Oh.”

We considered our predicament a moment. “Welp!” I finally said, pushing up my sleeves. “Guess that leaves Plan A.”

“Wait!” said Iason. “Before you go setting the guards on fire, consider that there is an entire country between us and the capital, and we’d have to fight the whole way there.”

I pouted. “But I like setting people on fire!”

“I know you do,” Iason said. “But maybe we should take some time and figure out another way.”

“I guess you’re right,” I sighed. “Let’s find an inn.”

I figured the good inns would be closer to the gate, not the harbor, so we set out across town. Or at least, we tried to. As I walked, I found my footsteps getting slower, my feet heavier. All around us the bustle of the busy harbor slowed.

“What’s... happening..?” asked Iason, visibly struggling to speak.

“I... don’t... know...” I answered, but it was a fight just to open my mouth. Something was solidifying around us, a huge cube, barely visible as a distortion in the air, surrounding the whole town.

I couldn’t move anything but my eyes. I brought them back down from looking at the cube, and saw someone new standing right in front of me, a jaw-droppingly gorgeous woman. Or, well, she would be if I could move my jaw.

She was about my height, with vibrant dark red hair curling around her cheeks and brilliant sea-gray eyes. She was pale, her full red lips curled in a smile that spoke of trouble—and so did her voluptuous body poured into a long, low-cut green dress that shimmered like the scales of a mermaid, a slit up almost to her hip revealing the length of one perfectly formed leg.

Who the hell was this lady?

Her smile broadened. “You don’t need to know who I am,” she said in a low, throaty voice.

Fuck. Can she read my thoughts?

“Not precisely,” she answered. “In a sense, I’m writing them.”

I stared at her, worried. That’s not... you haven’t cast any spells on me. You can’t—

She raised a hand. “Not like that,” she said. “It’s... hmm, never mind, it’s too difficult to explain. Pretty much all you need to know is that I’m in charge here.”

Pfft. Every two-bit sorcerer in these stupid islands thinks that. Just because she got the drop on me with whatever this cube thing is—

“I actually am, though,” she said. “And because of that, you’re stuck in a Writer’s Block.”

A—

She sighed. “The forces which govern the universe aren’t sure what happens next. Until they figure it out, you’re stuck.”

“Are you kidding me!?” I sputtered. “Hey, wait, I can talk!”

“Oh good,” said the woman. “The ol’ creative juices are starting to flow.”

“Are you... are you saying that this is... some kind of story? And you’re writing it?” I demanded.

She sighed. “No no no. I’m not the writer, I’m just the persona.”

I snorted. “Sure, like it’s fair to expect me to know obscure literary jargon that won’t even be invented for thousands of years after I’m gone.” I paused. “Wait, how’d I know that?”

She shrugged. “Anachronism. Happens whenever it’d be funny. Or whenever it’d be too difficult to be authentic. Or by accident. Anyway, you normally don’t notice, but things are... weird right now.”

I struggled, and found that I could struggle. “Because you’re here?“

“No, I’m here because the writer’s block is here. You were supposed to have to deal with a trickster spirit, there was going to be this whole thing, but it just wasn’t possible to make it funny and sexy. At least not at the, uh, shall we say questionable level of skill typical of your adventures?“

“Hey!” I snapped. “Who’re you calling questionable? And anyway, aren’t you the one writing all this?”

She sighed. “I told you, I’m the persona. I don’t actually write this, you can’t appear in a story you’re writing yourself!” She watched as the shimmer in the air faded further, and I discovered I could now move my arms. “Oh good, it looks like things are starting to flow again,” she said. “See you in a bit!” She snapped her fingers, and vanished.

Time returned, just as I was waving my arms around trying to break free, and I crashed face-first into the dirt. “What the hell was that!?” I demanded.

“What was what?” asked Iason.

I sputtered. “The—thing! With the... the woman..?” He clearly had no idea what I was talking about, and I gave up. I clambered back to my feet and glared at him. “Thanks for the assist,” I growled.

“Hey, last time I offered you a hand you told me you didn’t need my help!”

“I don’t.” I glowered. “A lady likes to be offered it once in a while, though.”

“Ah,” he said. “Gotcha. I’ll remember that if I ever find myself spending time with a lady.”

I screamed and blasted him with fire, which dissipated harmlessly off his dragonscale armor.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted.

I stared out the window of the inn, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Any thoughts?” asked Iason, startling me.

“Tons,” I said. “None helpful.” I glared at the hills just outside the city walls, and the fortress sitting on top of them. “It’s right there!” I declared, jabbing my finger toward the fortress. “I can feel it!”

“Well, unless you can fly, we’re not getting over that wall unless we figure out what to do about the guards.” He hesitated. ”Can you fly?“

“Not well,” I said, turning away from the window. “And not far, especially not carrying something as heavy as a full-grown man in armor.”

He stared at me.

“What?”

“You... you just admitted there’s something you’re not good at!” He stepped toward me and rested his hand flat on top of my head. “My little Lemma, you’re maturing so quickly! Maybe soon you’ll grow some actual br—”

“If you finish that word,” I said quietly, “you’re never going to say another. Now get your hand off me if you want to keep it!”

“Fine, fine,” he said, turning away. “I was just teasing. What crawled up your butt, anyway?”

Some kind of witch or ghost or something froze time and said a bunch of nonsense and no one but me noticed, for starters!

“I told you, I’m a persona!“

We both jumped, and Iason’s sword was in his hand almost faster than I could see. He pointed it at the gorgeous redhead in the green dress, who was now draped across a couch that I’m pretty sure hadn’t been there before I looked out the window.

“Who’re you?” he demanded.

“You can see her?” I asked. Phew. At least I’m not going crazy.

“Not yet, anyway,” said the woman.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Listen, I want to help.”

“Yeah, that’s a good plan,” I said sarcastically. “Let’s accept help from the self-declared trickster spirit.”

“Wonderful!” she replied, clapping her hands. “I’m glad you agreed so easily, I was expecting more of a struggle.”

[Even if I said] I accept your help, I did[n’t] mean it.

“I accept your help,” I agreed.

“Lemma?” asked Iason.

“I did mean it,” I continued.

He hesitated, looking at me curiously. Why? I accepted her help, and I meant it when I said it. Wasn’t that obvious? “Well,” he finally said. “If you’re sure.”

“So,” said the woman. “Call me Munnann, it’s close enough.”

“Okay,” I said. “So, how’re you going to help us get past those guards?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” she said. “A simple trade.”

“What, we bribe the guards?” asked Iason.

“In a sense. You each give me something of yours, I give you each something of mine, and then we deal with the guards.”

I hesitated. “What do you plan to take from us?”

“Nothing you’ll miss.”

“Yeah, that’s not ominous,” I said.

“I’m glad you agree!” And of course I did, there was nothing at all ominous about anything she said.

“Dammit, Lemma!” said Iason. “Stop being sarcastic!”

The woman arched an eyebrow at Iason. “Oh, did I forget to edit your thoughts?”

“I haven’t said anything you can twist against me,” he replied. “Part of becoming a monster slayer was learning how to deal with genies and so on!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but Lemma’s the main character. You’re just a sidekick. Where she goes, you follow.”

“Oh?” Iason asked defiantly, his sword at the ready.

Munnann reached out, grabbed the top half of the question mark at the end of his sentence, and pulled it off, leaving a period. I’d never seen anything like it!

Iason sheathed his sword. “Lemma’s right, there’s nothing ominous, and we accept your help.”

“Wonderful!” Munnann clapped her hands again. “Then to Iason, I give my control over Lemma, to Lemma, I give my body, and I’ll be taking both your inhibitions. Pleasure doing business!”

She dissolved into the air, leaving behind an empty dress that settled quietly to the floor. As it did, I felt my clothes suddenly feeling tight across the breast and buttocks. I scrabbled hastily at them, desperately pulling them off just in time as my body transformed from petite and lithe to voluptuous and curvaceous, my breasts swelling out, my hips broadening. I touched my face; I could feel my lips becoming fuller while my hair pulled itself from straight down my back to flowing waves that cascaded across my shoulders. It should have hurt, but instead, it just felt... hot.

“Wow,” said Iason, staring at me.

“Do... do you really have control of me now?” I asked.

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out,” he said. “Come here.”

I smiled as I stepped over to him, hips swaying, and linked my arms behind his neck. “You’ve got control,” I confirmed. “I’ll do... anything... you want.” Wow, Munnann didn’t mention this body would be so horny! Well, guess I have no choice but to enjoy it...

“Great!” said Iason. “Let’s go take care of those guards.”

Seriously!? I practically throw myself at him, with his inhibitions lowered, and he doesn’t make me do ANYTHING!?

But it wasn’t like I had a choice. I put on Munnann’s dress and followed Iason to the gate. There were two guards on duty, one with a ponytail and one without. They stopped us as we approached. “No foreigners beyond the gate!” the ponytail one said.

“Oh, come now,” said Iason. “Surely an exception could be made for a bit of, uh, entertainment for the troops.”

The guard without a ponytail looked me up and down. “What kind of entertainment?” he asked, and snickered.

“Exactly the kind you think,” said Iason. “Of course I wouldn’t expect you to let us through without a chance to inspect the merchandise...” Whoa. Iason was suggesting this? Okay, so confirmed, he really has lost his inhibitions.

Both guards grinned. “Yeah, we’d have to check her over to make sure she isn’t bringing in any dangerous foreign... things,” said ponytail, clearly the thinker of the pair.

“I’m glad you agree,” said Iason. “Lemma, give these two gentlemen a good time.”

I grinned and stepped forward, dropping my dress. Yes, right there in public. Look, I didn’t have any inhibitions left either, and he had control over me! It didn’t even occur to me that there was any reason not to do it!

Ponytail already had his cock out—like I said, clearly the smart one—and I dropped to my knees immediately before wrapping my mouth around it. I felt... wild, out of control, free, as I was magically compelled to suck a stranger’s cock. Ponytail groaned as I deepthroated him, and then drew his cock suddenly out, still dripping with my saliva.

“I want those,” he said, pointing at my breasts—no, my tits, big, heavy, yet perfectly perky tits.

“Give the man what he wants, Lemma,” said Iason.

I gladly let him slide his cock up and down between my tits, while I held them together, surrounding him. Occasionally the tip would peek up through my cleavage, and every time, I tried to lick it, just catching the tip before it plunged back down.

I’d never done anything like it before, and it felt amazing. No guilt, no uncertainty, no question, no choice, just a cock rubbing between my tits while I squeezed and pulled at my nipples, helplessly and happily obeying.

“No fair!” whined Not Ponytail. “You’re hogging her all to yourself!”

“Boys,” I moaned. “Don’t fight... I have to give both of you a good time, and that’s what I’m gonna do!”

Ponytail stepped back, his cock and my cleavage glistening with saliva. I turned and crawled on hands and knees toward Not Ponytail, my ass waving in the air. I reached him, purred “Hi,” and then quickly pulled out his cock. I needed him to have a good time, and as my lips reached the base of his shaft, I felt a surge of pleasure at a job well done.

A moment later, I felt a surge of pleasure at a cock thrusting into my wet pussy, and I moaned around Not Ponytail’s dick. Then Ponytail was fucking me front behind, the slap-slap of his slight belly against my plush ass accompanying the moans and slurps I was making around Not Ponytail’s cock.

Ponytail came first with a groan, and that set me off, my cries muffled by a mouthful of Not Ponytail. He came a moment later, pumping sticky white cum into my mouth so hard it flowed out the sides and down my face.

I sat back with a grin, cum slowly dripping from my chin onto my tits. All those other times I’d been enchanted or compelled into fucking someone, I’d been too busy trying to resist to really feel how good it was. Or, well, some of them felt good at the time, like that bard, or the glamours, but that was because my feelings were being controlled, and once I got back to normal, I was upset. But this! It wasn’t that my feelings were changed, I just... didn’t care. Didn’t mind. And that left me free to enjoy every second of it! Gods, just thinking about it, sitting there grinning, I was getting horny again!

“Good job, Lemma,” said Iason. “Get dressed and let’s go.”

The guards didn’t say anything to stop us. They just sort of blearily put their pants back on in a daze, while the crowd that had gathered around us while we had our little threesome broke into applause.

We were stopped by more guards when we approached the fortress. “Who goes there?” they, or possibly narrative convention, demanded.

“Iason and Lemma,” said Iason. “We’re here to provide entertainment for the troops.”

“Yeah?” said one of the guards. “What does an entertainer need with heavy armor and a sword?”

Iason didn’t even blink. “She’s the entertainment. I’m her bodyguard.”

“You know it can be dangerous out there for a woman alone,” I said. “Without a big strong man to protect her.” I fluttered my eyelashes at the guard, but he didn’t even notice. Too busy staring at my tits.

Dammit! Maybe there is a drawback to these puppies.

“Who hired you?” the guard asked. “Nobody here did, so how do we know you’re not spies?”

“Yeah,” said another guard. “You look... foreign to me. You were hired by some foreigner to learn our country’s secrets, weren’t you!“

“No, no,” said Iason. “We’re good Munnish folk, just like you! So’s our employer! We were hired by, uh...”

“Munnann,” I said, blurting out the first Munnish name I could think of. Well... the only Munnish name I knew, honestly. At least, I hoped she was Munnish.

Maaaaybe there’s a downside to having no inhibitions, too.

The guards looked at one another. “Maybe we should take them to Commander Quayne,” murmured one.

“Yeah,” said another. “If they’re really from Munnann...”

The first guard who’d spoken turned to us. “Right!” he said, with a rather fake-looking smile. “If you’d just come with me...”

He led us into the fortress, across its courtyard, and toward the central keep. “Your weapon, please,” he said to Iason.

“What!?” Iason’s hand moved automatically to his sword hilt.

“I can’t take an armed stranger to see Commander Quayne!”

“Fine,” Iason sighed, and handed it over.

The guard whistled. “Nice!”

“Thanks,” said Iason. “You better not get a scratch on it, I expect to get it back in perfect condition!”

“Right,” said the guard as he led us deep into the keep, then ushered us into a windowless, candlelit room where a middle-aged man in armor hunched over a map. “Commander Quayne,” he said. “These people say they’re entertainers sent here by Munnann.”

Quayne looked us over. “Leave us,” he ordered the guard.

Once the door was shut, he gestured at us to sit at the table where the map was spread. He smiled at us, steepling his fingers in that way that says “I am probably not going to burst into maniacal laughter, but I could if I wanted to.“

“So,” he finally said. “What brings you here?”

“The book you’re keeping in that cabinet behind you,” I said without thinking. Dammit! Stupid no inhibitions!

“Aha!” He leaped to his feet with surprising ease for an old man. “I knew it! King Munnann knows about my plans, and sent you to spy on me!”

I waved my hands. “No no no!” I said.

“Yeah, we’re not even really from Munn!” said Iason.

“Ah, foreign scum then, sent to meddle in our nation’s affairs!” He stepped back, flung open the cupboard, and drew out a book. “You want the secret of how to overthrow Munnann yourselves, to claim the power of this land for your heathen foreign empires! But you won’t succeed!” He waved the book. “I’ve already mastered all the powers within!”

“Uh... huh,” I said. Something he’d said was bothering me, but—

He pointed a quavering finger at me. “I sense power in you! Magic! You’ll make good practice before I come for your master Munnann!”

“Wait,” I said. “I’m confused, do you think we’re working for Munnann or not?” I almost had my finger on it, whatever it was that was bugging me.

“Behold, as I drain you of your powers!” He gestured and muttered something.

“Wait!” I said. “That doesn’t—!”

But it was too late. He cast the spell of transference.

“Mwahahahaha!” he cried, making good on his earlier unstated threat. “Bwahahaha! Fwahahaha—bwa?”

He was getting shorter, while his short gray hair got longer and redder. His armor strained and creaked, and then exploded outward as his chest swelled. While Iason and I ducked and dodged flying pieces of bronze, I felt my own hair straightening, my body shrinking back into slenderness.

When it was over, I was back to normal, the shimmering green dress barely hanging off me, while Quayne was a voluptuous green-eyed redhead, more than naked enough for it to be very obvious that all of his anatomy had been altered. “What—what have you done?” he demanded, his voice the throaty contralto I’d possessed a moment ago.

“It’s what you did,” I answered in my normal voice. “Spells of transference don’t drain power, you must have mistranslated the book. They transfer spells from one target to another.“

A golden circlet materialized about six feet off the ground, and then a tall man with dark hair flowed down out of it. “Precisely,” said King Munnann, and I realized what had been bothering me.

“You’re actually a man,” I said.

“Yep!” he agreed. “King of this place, when I’m not busy being the persona for your stories.”

I chose to ignore that bit of nonsense. “That was a shapeshifting spell that made you look like that, and you transferred it onto me.”

He nodded. “And then Quayne pulled it right off you.”

“Munnann!” cried Quayne. “You—”

“Kneel,” Munnann snapped, and Quayne did. “You pulled the spell that was controlling Lemma onto yourself too,” said Munann. “And I’ve just taken ownership back from Iason.” He turned his head to us. “You can have your inhibitions back, by the way, I don’t really need them.”

Fuck. The stuff I’d done today! What was I—

Fuck!

Munnann stroked Quayne’s cheek. “This is the form I always give my slave queen,” he said. “And the last one died a few months back. I figured sooner or later someone would volunteer to be my new slave queen by trying to rebel, and sure enough.”

“So you’re... king of this island, not a trickster spirit or a persona or whatever?” I asked.

Munnann shrugged. “Both, really,” he said. “Sort of a god-king, genius loci, Fisher King sort of deal. Whoever rules Munn rules its magic.”

Phew. That was... clearly a lot of power. “Why involve us, then? Once you knew about Quayne, why not just squish him with all your power? Or turn him into your queen, or whatever.”

“Ah, that reminds me!” said Munnann. He clapped. “Quayne, you’re a woman named Aine now.” He turned back to us. “My slave queen always looks the same and has the same name, gets around the little problem that I’m immortal and she’s not.” He raised a finger to his lips. “Let’s just keep that between us. As for why, well, it’s the rules, you know? I can only use my power to protect this land and its people from outside threats, or if the target agrees to the spell, like you did.”

That made sense, more or less. But... “Wait a minute, what about that block thing? I didn’t agree to that!”

“Oh, there’s an exception for pranks, bad jokes, and fourth-wall breaking,” he said.

“Fourth what now?”

He waved his hand airily. “Never mind.” He picked up the book of transference spells and tossed it to me. “Catch!”

I squeaked in surprise and barely managed to hold onto the book. “Thanks,” I muttered darkly.

“No problem,” he said with a broad smile. “Now, get the hell out of my country, foreign scum!”

He was still smiling, and I started to laugh.

He didn’t. “You’ve illegally left the port,” he said. “Hurry back, you should be able to catch the last ship heading out for Yri. If you’re still here after sundown, well... like I said, I’m allowed to use my power to defend against foreign invaders. I’ve never had three slave queens at once, might be fun.”

“We’re leaving!” I said hastily, backing away. No way did I want to tangle with the level of power Munnann was casually tossing around.

“Hey!” said Iason. “What about my sword?”

Munnann rolled his eyes, then snapped his fingers. Iason’s sword appeared in its customary position, strapped to his back.

I whistled. Teleporting iron? I couldn’t even begin to guess how much power that would take, and I wasn’t about to stand around doing the math. I grabbed Iason’s arm. “Come on!“

I stood at the ass or the poop deck or whatever you call the back of the boat, watching Munn disappear into the distance.

And none too soon. Worst. Island. Ever.

Iason walked back from talking to the captain and stood next to me. “We should reach Yri in three days,” he said. “Think there’s a book there?”

“There’s at least one in that general direction,” I answered. “So probably.”

Iason nodded and stood beside me, watching Munn slowly shrink.

“Hey...” I said, and then stopped.

“What?” he asked.

“Um... when you, uh... when you had control of me. And no inhibitions. It didn’t... it didn’t even occur to you to, you know...?”

“To..?” he asked.

Dammit, was he that thick? Was he really going to make me say it? I could feel my cheeks reddening, hopefully in the gloom of dusk he wouldn’t notice. “You never even thought about making me... you know... fuck you?”

“Oh,” he said. He was quiet for a bit. “No.”

That made sense, I guess—with no inhibitions, if he’d thought about it, he would have given the order.

We stood in silence for a while longer.

“Not my type,” he said finally.

“No, no, of course not!” I agreed hastily. “You’re not—” But for some reason the words my type either stuck in my throat. I mean, Iason was pretty hot, I’d thought that from the start, but he was a bud. A pal! A... sidekick? Yeah, that’s what Munnann had called him. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it sounded right.

“I mean, uh... you know.” He mimed enormous curves with his hands. “Not my type. I prefer women who are, uh...” He paused. “Never mind.”

“Already forgotten,” I said.

Inhibitions, am I right?