The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Mask becomes You

Part 10

It’s been five days since I found that mask, and I have to say, life is looking really different than it was back then. Right now, I’m watching my hot athletic flatmate totally make out with the cutest girl in my class. And oh yeah, I’m being fucked from behind at the same time.

I try with mixed results to stifle my screams of pleasure as Derek ploughs into me with enthusiastic rhythm. When my eyes aren’t crossing, they are fixed on Katie and Felicity, who are tongue tied and exploring each other’s naked body with frisky hands. Derek is moaning softly behind me with each thrust, and his sweaty hands are clamped on my waist as he pulls me into him again and again. The spikes of pleasure shooting through me are dazzling my mind, and I know an intense orgasm is right around the corner.

“Yes!” I pant, trying not to make too much noise. “Keep going! Keep go-Fuck!”

I can’t hold my screams in as a powerful orgasm surges through my every nerve. Derek slows his motions, instead trying to thrust inside deeper still as the waves of pleasure overlap back and forth throughout my body. I’m soon lying collapsed on the bed, dripping sweat. Derek lies next to me, peppering my shiny skin with kisses full of unbreakable love and devotion.

My eyes are closed and my face half buried in the soaked bedsheets and I take long, slow, satisfied breaths. I’m eternally thankful that my new hipster slave has a dick that feels like it was genetically engineered to fit me just right. I’ve honestly lost track of how many times I’ve cum screaming with Derek deep inside me now. Over a dozen, certainly, and I only enslaved him the day before yesterday.

I open my eyes slowly, and see that Katie is now suckling on Felicity’s breasts, nibbling her nipples playfully while her hand gently stokes her dripping wet cunt. My flatmate is incredibly moist herself, ready for a finger, a tongue, or a nice hard cock inside her. That reminds me, that Derek, as dutifully as he’s now gently massaging my shoulders, is still rock hard and likely on the most intense edge of pleasure himself. He won’t cum unless I expressly tell him too; None of my slaves will. It helps me feel the rush of power when they plead, often in aroused and frustrated desperation for me to grant them their release.

Felicity puts three of her fingers into her mouth to cover them in saliva, then gracefully slides them up into Katie, who visibly shudders with pleasure. I watch the two of them for a few more enjoyable moments before I decide it’s time to move on with my day.

“Ok, ladies…” I say softly, and they both immediately drop to their knees, facing me with their heads bowed. “Who wants to drink up all of Derek’s cum?”

“Me, Goddess!” they say in perfect unison. Lucky Derek, right?

I let them take turns sucking his cock, ten seconds each, telling them whoever gets his cum in their mouth will experience a mind shattering orgasm with him. They both go at it with eagerness I’ve never before witnessed, and Felicity wins the prize 28 seconds into this little game. Derek moans and shakes while Felicity screams with her mouth still closed around his hard shaft. She collapses on the floor, exhaling deep sighs of satiation, cum dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

“Not a drop on the floor, now, ladies…” I mumur with a sly smile. “Katie?”

“Goddess!” Katie replies with glee, licking Felicity’s face and forcing her tongue into her mouth to get as much cum as she can. She then crawls up to where Derek has collapsed on the bed, and licks his now drooping cock, getting every last bit of residue he has to offer. She clearly gets enough of it to feel justified in having an orgasm herself, and she stifles her own screams as her hips buck and her back arches. After half a minute of undiluted pleasure, Katie leans against the wall and sinks down to the floor, a look of spaced out satisfaction covering her face.

We all stay still for a few minutes, breathing heavily in our own afterglows of pleasure. I know that time is getting on, however, and we all have places to be.

“Well, this was a lovely way to spend a lunchtime.” I purr with contentment, looking over my sex sweated slaves exhausted around me. “Alright everyone, back to your usual schedule.”

They spring up like wound clockwork, and simultaneously start dressing and fixing their hair.

“Fuck me, Goddess!” Felicity exclaims as she pulls up her tight designer jeans. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good. I’m like a glowing beacon of happy.” She bounces up to me, her bra loosly on but not clasped. “Can’t you skip class and spend all afternoon fucking this slave, Goddess? Please? Oh please let me serve you and pleasure you until I collapse with exhaustion!” She pouts as she says this, batting her eyelashes and letting her bra ‘accidentally’ slip off onto the floor once more. Her fingers start to softly glide up my thigh and send an excited tingle throughout my body.

“Oh…” I moan softly. “Fuck… Don’t you have class too, Felicity?” I say with a gasp of renewed arousal.

“Yes, Goddess.” Felicity whispers, her mouth an inch from mine now. I tremble under her touch, and find myself captivated by her intense, adoring gaze. “But I’m smart. I can skip a few classes and catch up.” She presses her mouth to my parted lips and instantly her expert tongue is dancing with mine as fresh waves of pleasure explode within me. In moments I’m on my back, pinned by my slave’s relentless assault. Her finger is gliding gracefully into me, coaxing moans and pleads out of my gasping lips.

I can hear my other slaves, Katie and Dereck talking as they finish getting dressed. Their voices are in the same room and coming from feet away, but I can barely hear them as my mind is enveloped by the orgasmic sensations Felicity is effortlessly creating in me.

“God dammit. I wish skipping class was the type of thing I ever did…” Katie moans. “I can’t tell you how much I want to be Felicity right now.”

“Tell me about it.” Derek agrees heavily. “My grades aren’t good enough for me to miss anything, otherwise I’d want to be at Goddess’s beck and call all day and night.”

“Oh, you’re lucky, though.” Katie sighs. “You’re totally her new favourite. I feel like if I didn’t share her flat I wouldn’t have been involved just now.”

“You don’t get to be jealous, Katie!” Derek replies in disbelief. “You actually live with our Goddess! You get to be with her more than any of us. We’d kill to switch places with you.”

“You’re right.” Katie says, sounding abashed. “I’m sorry… I am totally blessed to be here, so close to her. I should focus on how lucky I am, to serve our Goddess so readily.”

“It’s ok. We’re both new to this slave thing.” Derek replies in a comforting tone. “We all need to learn how to serve her to the best of our abilities and practise gratitude for being able to be her eternal slaves.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Derek.” Katie says, sounding much happier. “So, um… Do you think we should interrupt them, to say goodbye, I mean?” She is clearly staring at Felicity and myself on the bed. Felicity now has two fingers in me, stroking alternately in a way that is sending fireworks directly to the pleasure center of my mind. I’m biting a pillow to stop from alerting the whole building to the level of sexual bliss I’m currently experiencing.

“Uh… No, I don’t think so…” Derek considers carefully. “They’re enjoying themselves, let’s just let ourselves out and we’ll return to serve more after class.”

I barely hear the door click as my two slaves exit my room, as now Felicity has removed her tongue from my mouth and immediately kisses her way down my body to my tantalised and waiting cunt. I renew my screams into my pillow, and lose all track of time as waves after waves of incredible orgasm crash like a storm inside me.

Sometime later, maybe a few minutes, possibly an hour, I start to emerge from the fuzzy place of pleasure my mind departed to. Felicity is slowly getting dressed, and smiles warmly at me as I stir.

“I hope you enjoyed that, Goddess.” She beams at me. “I know I did.”

“You have no idea.” I groggily reply. “I really need to shower now. And I really ought to make it to at least one class this afternoon.”

“Based on your timetable, you can shower and still make it to math, Goddess. Incidentally, I’ve put together a combined schedule of all of your slaves.” Felicity hands me a sheet of paper and I take it to look over. It’s neatly drawn up, and shows the timetables of all of my slaves, with room for many more names to be added.

“This is excellent, Felicity…” I say gratefully. “Where on earth did you find the time to do this? I had you with me most of yesterday when you weren’t in class…”

“It was important to you, Goddess” Felicity says politely. “I found the time.”

I start to pull myself off of the messed up sheets of my bed, and Felicity hesitatingly moves towards the door.

“I’m so sorry, Goddess, I have to go…” she says, genuine reluctance in her voice. “I don’t want to… But… But…”

“I know, I’ve told you to prioritise your studies…” I sigh. “None of you will be able to serve me well if you get kicked outta this place. So go, and work hard.”

“Of course, Goddess!” Felicity bows in reverence. “I live to serve.” She opens the door, but turns when part way through.

“Yes, Felicity?” I ask with an amused smile as she is clearly bursting to say something.

“Goddess…” she says quietly, as though afraid to speak louder than a whisper. “I just wondered… Could you please, please enslave my flatmate next? It means you could come to my room and instead of getting suspicious, she will serve you as I do! Oh please, Goddess, please oh please!”

“You’re certain keen, Felicity…” I say with a smirk. “I need to think about my next move, but I’ll keep that in mind.” My eyes quickly steal a glance to the cupboard in the corner of the room, and my expression is one of nervous dread for a moment.

Thankfully, Felicity doesn’t seem to notice this, as she pleasantly wishes me a wonderful afternoon and disappears off to class, leaving me alone with… it.

My rucksack is sitting in the far corner of the cupboard in my room. The rucksack is under a growing pile of laundry and the cupboard door has been blocked by a chair.

The mask has been sitting in my bag for almost 48 hours now. Since I wrested it off my face in the old academy building, I haven’t touched it. I looked at it only once, quickly forcing myself to avert my eyes right away, lest it entrance me there and then. I had closed my bag tightly and the moment I got back to my dorm I threw it in the cupboard, mask and all.

It had so nearly overpowered me. I had felt its tendrils wrap around my mind so completely, so intensely, I was momentarily a puppet to its whims. I’m still amazed I even managed to break free of the hold it had on me. The whole experience was a blur, so I’m not even sure how I did it.

But, blurry thought it may be, I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’ve been trying, with mixed success, to get the memories out of my head. Every time they pop back up I remember the feeling of utter surrender that had enveloped me. I had accepted and was anticipating the mask merging with my mind. It had wanted to possess me so badly, and it had found its moment to do so.

I understand the mask a lot better now, or at least I have theories that fit the facts. The mask needs a human host to properly work, but that doesn’t mean it simply possesses whoever wears it. I was, for the most part, in control while I wore the mask, and it was like a sat nav, giving me suggestions of what to do, or where to go. I didn’t have to heed its thoughts or do what it wanted, but it played me hard, feeding me thoughts of all my fantasies, making it seem like I had no choice. All the time it was conditioning me to obey… Putting me more and more under its spell.

And, of course, each time I looked in the mirror it became more powerful, able to use the power it used on everyone else to influence me even more. I had resisted it both times, but barely. Both times I feel like I lost ground against it, and what would have been the third time would have been my last. I was ready to say anything it wanted me to say, do anything it wanted me to do… And the thing that scares me the most, is that at the time, I wanted it. In the last moments I wore the mask, I wanted so badly to be taken by its power. But then I was able to break free… Somehow…

I sigh as I sit there on the bed, starting to feel chilly from the lingering sweat on my skin and the lack of warm bodies nearby to warm me up. I look at myself in the mirror. My face is mask-less, and I see each of my imperfections magnified by a thousand. My amber blonde hair falls limply to my shoulders, like leaves from a weeping willow. My soft green eyes have heavy bags under them, and my bruises from the incident with Stacy are still healing.

Speaking of Stacy, I haven’t heard from her since I saw her that morning at her dorm. She’s not returning my texts and not answering my calls. I know what she’s up to though, as I’m having her roommate Rebecca update me every few hours. Plus, I know David has asked her out and they went on a date last night, because I told him to do it. Better yet, Stacy agreed to it. I just hope she had a good time, but I’ll find that out from David when I see him later.

I then remember that if I make it to math class, I can actually see Stacy in person. Surely she wouldn’t ignore me if I were right there, right? I look at my phone. A few texts from my various slaves, but I can answer those later. As for the time… I have half an hour before it starts, so I jump up and go for a shower in my dorm’s tiny bathroom.

The water running over my skin feels refreshing, and as I run shampoo through my hair I feel free from all my worries. But no sooner do I notice that I’m relaxing than the image of the mask implants itself at the front of my mind. I was going to leave it in my cupboard when I left for class, but would it be so bad if I took it to class? It would be in my bag, out of harm’s way. I wouldn’t even need to look at it.

But would it be so bad to look at it? Maybe even just touch it? Perhaps lift it in front of my face and stroke it a bit… Maybe I could just put it on for a moment, just to get that feeling of power again. Just for a moment, or a couple minutes, tops…

Maybe I am overreacting, avoiding the mask like this. The slaves I’ve indoctrinated are mine, not the mask’s. I’m the one commanding the power, why shouldn’t I just wear the mask and stay in control this time?

No. No! I’m almost certain the mask has implanted thoughts like this in my mind, and made them indistinguishable from my own. I cover my face with my hands and sink down to the floor of the shower, sobbing. It’s in my head and it won’t stop. It will keep assaulting my mind until I break… And then, it will enslave me, merge my mind with it, and I will have no free will left to speak of.

This is why I’ve been spending the last 48 hours having sex with my slaves. It’s all been an attempt to shut out thoughts of the mask, to try and regain my sense of autonomy. What was I like before I ever wore the mask? Which thoughts were always there? Which thoughts can I trust?

I think about how much pleasure I would feel just to give in and submit myself to the mask’s power, and a new wave of arousal starts to grow within me. More conditioning, no doubt. The mask would love if I masturbated in the shower to thoughts of it taking control of me for good. It would make it so much harder to do what I’ve been doing…

I think that if I can keep myself from wearing the mask for long enough, some of the compulsions it’s embedded in me will become easier to manage. Also, I can’t help but get the feeling that the mask becomes more powerful the more I use it. Two days ago I enslaved eight people in the space of hours. If must have been like pouring gasoline on a flame for the mask, and I so nearly got burned.

So once I had broken free of the mask’s grip the other day, and after I had a fun nervous breakdown in front of my terrified looking slaves, I decided I needed to go cold turkey on the mask. At least for a while. Three days, I had promised myself at the time. If I can resist the constant urge to wear the mask for a whole 72 hours, I’m confident I can put it on again and perhaps use it more sparingly. Rushing into a room and indoctrinating five people at once is no longer on the cards. I’m still curious about making a video with the mask, but nervous at the same time. There’s still so much I don’t know…

Sandra and Paul will be able to help with that, though. I’ve assigned them to do some research into the mask. What it is, where it comes from, and so on. I have no idea how they’ll find any of that out, but that’s their problem. It’s nice to be able to deligate.

I come out of the shower and put some clothes on. Nothing special. Just my everyday jeans, a small t-shirt, and a cotton jersey that I’ve always liked. I glance in the mirror again. At least I look more like myself, flaws and all.

I exit my dorm running only five or so minutes late. A glance at my schedule shows that all of my slaves are currently in one class or another. Professor Steven’s is teaching his senior class. He’s seemingly struggling with his TA Jennifer still being away. It was so sudden that no plan was put in place to have cover for her. I’ve had Julia helping him out every moment she can, but she too has other classes.

I can’t help but feel irate when I think about it. I want all my slaves to excel at their studies. Just because I’ve stripped away their free will and turned them into obedient sex toys, domestic servants, and puppets to my whims, doesn’t mean I want them to flunk out. So because of this, I’ve told all of them that their grades are their top priority, and part time jobs and whatever also come before directly serving me. It’s already gotten so annoying once or twice already, when everyone has been busy all at once. A goddess without her worshipers doesn’t seem like much of a goddess to me, so it left me feeling pathetic, like I can no longer function without someone bowing before me and tending to my needs.

And another thing! No one has any fucking money! My slaves were able to scrape a couple hundred dollars in loose change together for me yesterday, but I told them not to hand over money that they needed for tuition, food, or other vital expenses. It turns out everyone is as broke as I am. Sure, some of us have parents putting us through college or have scholarships, but otherwise cash is universally tight. The exception to this is of course Stevens, but being a married man with strict instructions to maintain that cover, he can’t exactly start emptying his savings without his accountant wife noticing something amiss.

At least I can have Stevens buy me some alcohol with the cash I’ve gathered. None of my slaves are 21 yet, but the Goddess demands wine, dammit!

I reach my math class and sneak in the back, quietly taking a seat where Stacy and I always sit. She’s not there, and I spend the next five minutes scanning the lecture hall for her. Eventually, I see her down near the front, in a throng of eager looking attentive heads. Why would she sit up there? We always hang around the loosely packed back benches together… My heart sinks as I realise that she really is making a great effort to avoid me. My mind instantly wanders to the simple idea of using the mask to make her like me again, but I quickly shut that down. Honestly, I don’t need another slave right now. What I need is a friend.

The math class goes by in a blur. I’m not paying attention. What I’m mostly doing is sweating into my fresh clothes as I think about the mask, sitting in my bag in my cupboard. Waiting to be worn, waiting to enslave, waiting to take control of me. A mixture of fear, arousal, and shame swirl around inside me until the class is dismissed.

I notice Stacy stealing a glance at me. With a pained expression on her beautiful face, she turns quickly to leave via the far end of the lecture hall. I don’t follow her. Instead I wait until the crowd has thinned significantly before I slink out, head bowed and feet shuffling. As I walk towards the edge of campus I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t just give in to the mask. I can’t help but feel like I suck at being a Goddess. I mean, I’ve almost lost control so many times now, not to mention almost losing the mask to Stacy, and losing Stacy because of the mask. I have bruises, sure, but my emotional hurts are much more numerable and painful. In certain moments, like this one, it sinks in to me what an absolute evil monster I am, enslaving people, stripping them of any ability to resist me or think for themselves…

At least if I surrendered my own will to the mask I’m sure I wouldn’t have these recurring bouts of guilt from my conscience. I’m weak to feel so crappy about the path I so readily walked down. I can’t even stick to my convictions… The mask is so much better than I am. I’m worthless. And now I’m not even sure if these are thoughts the mask put there or my own mind giving myself a grilling. Not that it matters much, as either way it’s true.

As I walk into the café that’s just off campus, the smell of fresh coffee and toasted muffins brings me out of my depressed reverie. The café is nicely decorated, with a countryside cosy feel to it. Most of the tables are square wooden ones to sit two or four people, but a row of booths lines one of the walls, offering a bit more privacy. I see David and Rebecca waiting patiently for me at a corner booth.

“Goddess!” Rebecca says in reverence as I take a seat next to her.

“In public, Rebecca!” I moodily snap back at her.

“Sorry! Tara.” Rebecca immediately corrects herself, turning scarlet and shrinking in her hair slightly.

“How are you Tara?” David asks attentively. I can sense that he too is itching to call me Goddess here. I can tell they both just want to drop to their knees and beg me to command them, and a big part of me is tempted to. That’s part of the reason I chose the public place, though, to avoid such temptations.

I send Rebecca for drinks and have David tell me all about his date with Stacy last night. He recounts an evening where the energy between himself and Stacy could at best be described as tepid.

“I mean, we had a few laughs, sure.” David explains with a frown. “But, like, a chuckle here and there. Otherwise it just felt… Well, it felt really forced, go- Tara.”

“Really?” I ask in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Uhh, yeah.” David affirms, clearly not sure how to answer. “It was mostly awkward. I really tried, but she just wasn’t into it.”

“But that makes no sense…” I mutter, mostly to myself. “We both… She was just as keen… You’re half the reason she got so pissed at me in the first place, aren’t you?”

“I, uhh, I don’t know.” David says, looking like a deer in headlights.

“How did the date end?” I ask, pressingly, as if more details will turn the whole thing around.

“I walked her back to her dorm, and kissed her on the cheek at her door. I wasn’t invited in.” David explains plainly. He looks dejected, but more from letting me down than anything to do with his date with Stacy.

“Dammit!” I exclaim. “How’re you supposed to make a girl happy if she’s lukewarm on a date with her crush?”

“I… I don’t know, Tara.” David replies apologetically. “Would you like me to ask her out again? I could try something different this time?”

“No…” I murmur as Rebecca returns with the drinks. “Well… Maybe. I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” I say with total uncertainty. “How about you, Rebecca? How has Stacy been in your dorm?”

“Sad, g- Tara.” Rebecca replies, looking unhappy herself and taking a slow drink from her coffee.

“Well that sucks.” I say bitterly. “But what’s eating you up?”

“I’m failing you, Tara!” Rebecca squeaks, her eyes getting teary. “I’m supposed to be the best flatmate I can be to Stacy and make her happy and I’m failing!”

“Oh, relax, Rebecca,” I say irritably, “As long as you’re trying, you’re not failing me, you’re doing exactly what I need of you. Now, can you tell me more? What is she so sad?”

“Thanks, Tara,” Rebecca replies gratefully. “From what I can tell, she just really misses you. I’m not sure, because each time I ask she says she doesn’t want to talk about it, but it’s what I gather.”

“Yeah, well, I miss her too…” I say, glumness enveloping me. What can’t we just be friends again?

I spend the rest of the time at the café with my two slaves going over my plans for doing up the philosophy club room. Although neither of them takes philosophy, I still want them to turn up and help. We all finish our drinks and I let them get back to their studies. I can call on them if I want a bit of company later, though I have been preferring Derek’s perfectly sized cock and Felicity’s admirable enthusiasm, so chances are I’ll be calling them.

I head back to my dorm, my thoughts now on Stacy rather than the mask. It makes no sense that she didn’t have a great time out with David. We spent so much of our time together taking about him, going wild with the one or two things we actually knew about him at the time. Did she know that I’d enslaved David, and put him up to asking her out? Is that maybe why she was avoiding me? Oh god, I hope not. I feel like I’ve got enough damage to repair going forward without adding manipulation of her love life into the mix.

I decide that despite my sorrows and confusion, the best thing I can do, both for myself and for Stacy is to keep at it with my cold turkey approach to the mask. If I can give myself that time and space to get my thoughts in order, then maybe I could even get Stacy to see that the mask isn’t getting the better of me. Maybe she’ll want to hang out again. I know without a doubt that no good could come from going crazy with the mask the way I have been doing so far. No, temperance and self-discipline are definitely the way forward.

I arrive at my dorm and am about to enter when I do a double take at the door. There, scribbled in what looks like permanent marker across my door are the words:

“Keep the noise down, whore!”

I can feel the colour drain from my face as I stare at the words. A rising lump in my throat and a heaving in my chest assault me simultaneously, and my breaths start to get heavy and loud. It’s only when I notice my hands are sore that I realise that it’s because my fists are shaking in clenched rage.

I storm into my room in a cold fury and throw open the door to my cupboard. I claw at the laundry clothes and tear open my bag. In moments, the mask is on my face and I feel a rush of confident power surge into my already enraged body. Fuck the 72 hours! Fuck the cold turkey idea! Fuck any notion that I’m going to stop using this mask. It’s mine and I will use it to crush the mind of ANYONE who dares defy me!

I stomp out of my dorm and go to the next door down, the one leading into the dorm adjoined to the wall of my room. As I slam heavily on the door, my mind races with all the most cruel and horrible things I can do while wearing the mask. As I pause and hear movement on the other side of the door, a manic, sadistic smile spreads across my mask covered face.

We’re about to see who exactly the whore is, and find out just how loud she can be…