The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When I was 18, I found a musty old book at the library. I didn’t know what to think. A book of magic spells is not something you see every day, certainly not one in which the pages are yellowed and crumbling and the cover is so worn that you can’t hardly even read what it says. I had been looking for a book on how to do card tricks and stuff like that, so I could impress a girl that I work with, but as I was scanning over the thin little paperbacks, The Book caught my eye. I don’t know how it couldn’t have. It was sticking about three inches out further from all the other books on the shelf, and it was significantly taller. It was worn and the tough leather on the outside had faded from what must’ve been a bright and impacting red to a dull maroon. The cover read simply: “THE BOOK.”

Captivated, I picked it up and took it to the nearest table, opening it up and wincing back as a huge cloud of dust escaped it. The table of contents alone was sort of amazing to read; the spells weren’t listed in any particular order, but rather seeming to come in whatever order the author thought of them. The first was a spell to change the color of something, next was a spell to make oneself invisible, next a spell to reduce something to three-quarters its previous size. Hastily scrawled in the margin of this entry were instructions on varying the spell to reduce something to any dimensions; I supposed that the spell for making something larger was probably either one page away or three hundred pages away. At least there was a table of contents.

As I flipped around, the librarian walked by. You could tell she was Pentecostal or something like that. She clearly wasn’t wearing makeup, and despite the sweltering summer heat she wasn’t exposing any more of her body than was absolutely necessary for her to be able to walk around. I watched her tight, firm ass as she walked back to the front desk. I observed her body without openly staring, watching her shirt move over her flat stomach and her smallish tits bounce freely without the confines of a bra. My eyes roamed disappointedly over the ridiculous skirt like thing she was wearing, which went all the way to the floor so that I couldn’t even see her feet. I absolutely love legs, especially the kind of thin, toned legs I knew she would have, and wished I could see them. I looked at her face, her small prim mouth and her tiny nose and her blue eyes and her mousy blond hair done up in a bun, and realized she knew I was staring, and had for some time. When she knew I was looking at her face, she gave me the meanest look Pentecostals are probably allowed to give and I looked back down at the book, turning red.

As I flipped through the book, I started to wish some of these spells could possibly ever work. There was one for making anybody associate their deepest feelings of lust with anybody else, and I could have really used that. I chuckled to myself and wished it had some good card tricks in it. Then I came to the time stop spell, sandwiched on the same page between a spell for cooking meat in under a second and a spell for making any animal run east until it starved to death or fell into the ocean or something. The time stop spell was one simple word and a weird hand gesture.

I looked around. Nobody was in this part of the library, and the librarian had gone upstairs to tell Jesus how much she loved Him or something. I shrugged, spoke the word and made the gesture. For a moment, it seemed like nothing had happened, simply because there was nothing around and the library was quiet. I shrugged, somewhat disappointed, and looked out the window.

There was a car stopped dead in the middle of the street. On the sidewalk, a kid on a bicycle had hopped his bike into the air. I had stopped him just as the bike was starting to wobble in midair. I predicted that he had a pretty good chance of falling painfully and hurting himself pretty bad. A door was just opening at the nursing home across the street. I whistled low and stood up, flipping through the book to see if there was anything I could do in this situation.

Scribbled in the margins for the time stop spell, the anonymous author had noted something that should’ve gone in the foreword, if he had thought to write one. Sometimes these spells didn’t work, he wrote, but in time stop, the world was a lot more susceptible to magic, and it was much more likely that a spell would work. Good to know. I snapped the book shut and walked up the library’s stairs, looking for the librarian. From the top floor, you could see most of the first, and I noted that we were alone. That was good. I flipped around for at least fifteen minutes before finding a spell that would make the subject prone to a detailed suggestion. It required time stop, actually, and I wondered why time stop wasn’t at the start of the damn book if it was going to be essential for half the spells. I went to the librarian and passed my hand in front of my face. No reaction. I pushed her a little, and she swayed a little, but didn’t make any movement on her own. I pushed a little harder and she damn near fell down; I had to rush to catch her and stand her back up. Satisfied that she was helpless, I rested my hand on her cheek, leaning in to kiss her on the mouth. It wasn’t very exciting. It was like kissing your pillow, not that I would do that.

I made the suggestion to her that I wanted to make, then went back down the stairs, putting everything back as it had been. The goddamn time stop spell wasn’t anywhere near the same page as the spell for restarting time, so I got to look for that for a while before I could put things back into their normal course. The car whizzed down the street as if it had never stopped at all, and the boy’s bike landed at an odd angle, but he managed to correct it in time. Good for him. The door opened at the nursing home and somebody came out, checked for mail and went back in. It was early for mail, I guess. I turned just in time to see the librarian coolly descending the stairs. She looked up at me with a distasteful glance and turned the sign on the library door to CLOSED, even though it was still a good five hours from closing time. I was captivated as I watched her walk towards me as if of her own will and sit down across from me, glancing down at the book as I closed it and reading the title.

“Is that the Bible?” she asked.

I deliberated for a moment about my answer, finally deciding to be perfectly candid since she was about to lose control anyway. “No,” I said, “It’s actually a book of spells. One of them makes you want to fuck me.”

She regarded me suspiciously for a moment, wondering if I was dangerous and deciding to leave me alone, since she didn’t even know why she’d come over to talk to me in the first place. I watched her with calm bemusement as she got up and started to walk away, twitching her ass for me without even knowing it. Such a nice ass.

“Stop,” I said.

She froze where she was, a small, frightened noise coming from her throat. She didn’t quite know what I was doing, but she knew I was controlling her and instantly hated it. I had her turn around again to face me, and she did. I told her she could talk if she liked.

“What are you doing to me?” She asked.

I smiled at her. “I told you I had a book of spells and I could use them to make you want to fuck me.”

Several responses, mostly questions, must have gone through her head. I wished I could read her mind and resolved to find a spell for that later. She started to say something and I told her to shut up. Among the many things I had put in her brain, I had programmed her to care what I thought about her, and she winced a little at the reproach in my voice.

“What’s your name?” I asked. She had never worn a nametag.

“Betsy.” Her voice was already submissive. God, she hadn’t even put up a fight.

I nodded. “Ever had sex, Betsy?”

She shook her head and looked at me, obviously hurt that I would think she had. “I’ve never been married,” she said haughtily.

I grinned at her and stood up, slowly closing the distance between us. “I didn’t ask if you’d been married, Betsy.”

She blushed and looked at the ground, then looked back up at me as I came to a stop, less than a foot from her, close enough to smell the somehow completely unsexy perfume she was wearing. “I’ve never had sex.”

“Never even masturbated?”

She blushed and didn’t answer. I raised my hand and brought it back as if I was going to slap her, and she winced. She actually thought I would.

“You have, haven’t you?” I asked, with genuine curiosity.

“Once. In the eighth grade.” She didn’t want to elaborate, clearly embarrassed and ashamed.

I smiled and stalked slowly around her in circles, looking over her body. She probably didn’t work out, but she got a lot of exercise somehow, as evidenced by her thin body and taut muscles. “Tell me about it.”

She blushed, clearly flustered, paused and stammered, “I, I was in the bathtub, just taking a bath, and I was looking at my stomach and I—I—” She stopped. I realized with a start that she was damn near in tears. I stopped in front of her and told her to go on. She began again and whispered meekly, as if we were being eavesdropped on. “I was looking at my stomach, I don’t even remember why but I thought it looked good and I put my hand on it and spread it out, and my fingernails were long and I dug them into my skin and it felt so good, and I started to get really—” She stopped. She knew words for it but didn’t want to say.

“Horny,” I muttered.

“Horny,” and here she stopped and sobbed a bit, “And I put my legs up around the sides of the bathtub and touched my thigh and then put my finger inside myself and I, I touched myself, and I didn’t have an orgasm but it was bad and I know it was bad and—”

“Shut up.” She looked at me as if I’d slapped her. She was crying a little. “There’s nothing wrong with masturbation. Nothing at all.”

She glared at me, starting to really hate me. “Maybe not to you.”

I shrugged and started to say something when the little bell over the door began to ring. In walked a girl I’d never seen at the library before. She looked at the teary-eyed Betsy, then at me, then at the probably overdue books in her hand. “Um, are you closed? Because—”

I cut her off. “No. Library’s open. She’ll be with you in a minute.”

She shrugged and walked off into the science-fiction section, sensing that we needed privacy for something, and I led Betsy to a chair and sat down next to her, stopping time and whispering further instructions to her. When time was restarted, she looked at me with a kind of stunned look on her face. She knew what I had suggested, and knew that she was powerless against it.

I tenderly wiped the last tears from her eyes and watched her unbutton my jeans. She paused for a moment and I nodded for her to go on, feeling the zipper going down and her hand entering my pants. I closed my eyes and moaned deeply, telling her to let her hair down with her other hand and plunging my fingers into it when she did. I reached down and cupped one of her breasts through her shirt to see if her nipples were hard, and was surprised to find them extremely hard, perhaps harder even than my throbbing erection. As her hand tightened around my cock, I closed my eyes and reopened them, watching the science fiction section for the girl that had gone back there. She looked like she was about thirty, too old to really be called a girl, but she had a body as firm and desirable as Betsy’s, who couldn’t have been older than twenty-two.

Betsy cried a little more as she jerked me off, squeezing me tight in her hand and working with surprisingly deft ability for such an inexperienced girl. I wiped the tears from her face, thinking it was a good thing she wasn’t wearing makeup because she might smear it. I hadn’t been laid in quite some time, and her tiny, bony hand felt extremely good closed around my cock and squeezing, jerking with a quick rhythm. I came quickly, moaning louder, and closed my eyes tight, opening them again to see the girl come back out of the science fiction section, carrying the book she wanted in one hand and the books she wanted to return in the other.

I smiled at her, pretty happy with everything in the world as I felt the orgasm recede, leaving me content and lazy. Betsy was still working numbly at my cock, her face growing more strained and horrified as she felt my cum dribble down over her hand. I instructed her to take her hand out of my pants and lick it clean. She did, crying fresh tears but obediently running her tongue over her hand until every bit of semen was in her mouth, then swallowing with a grimace.

I wasn’t really concerned with Betsy by this time, though. The older girl was strikingly gorgeous, I noticed as she stared with horrified embarrassment at us. She had really long, curly red hair that went down to the middle of her back, and stunning green eyes. Her lips were full and perfect, and her tits were moderately large, slightly big for her but just enough to be extremely attractive. She was wearing an extremely snug, tight-fitting blue dress that tied around her neck, leaving the smooth skin of her shoulders bare and probably revealing part of her back if you were on that side of her. The dress stopped way above her knees, not concealing any of her tan, firm, gorgeous legs. She was even wearing sandals that showed her flawless feet, her toenails painted a hot red. She was gorgeous and she seemed to be showing off today.

She fidgeted for a moment, talking to me but not looking me in the eye. “Um, could I check out my book now, or should I come back at a, a different time, or—”

I stopped her and nodded. I stood and took the book from her, placing the others in the returned book slot on the front desk. Betsy was crying quietly into her hands, ashamed of what she had just been forced to do. I told her again to stop crying, and she did. The redhead was trying to decide if she should just leave, but I had already decided that she wasn’t going to. I stopped time and stepped quickly around the desk, my cock already recuperating and about to burst out of my pants. I locked the door and went around drawing every shade in the place. No sunlight could get in, and the lights were dim. I liked that. It was romantic.

After I had given orders to the redhead and new orders to Betsy, including a suggestion to help her cope with the idea that all this was wrong, I stepped back around the desk and pretended I knew what I was doing. The redhead blinked at the strange thoughts running through her head and reached her tan, slender hand up to my chin, lifting it gently to make me look into her eyes.

Thinks she’s running the show, I thought. It turned me on how suddenly she wanted to seduce me.

I smiled at her and took her hand, holding it in mine and interlocking our fingers, liking the way they looked together. I looked deep into her green eyes, almost as captivated by her as she was by me.

“What’s your name?” She asked me. I told her.

She smiled seductively at me and brought my hand up to her lips, kissing the palm. “My name’s Samantha.”

I ran my finger over her lips and then traced my hand over her cheek, loving the sexy purr that escaped her lips as I did it. “That’s a beautiful name, Samantha. Can I call you Sam?”

She looked at me with adoration and nodded adamantly. Of course I could. Anything for me. I really liked this.

“You would do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, Sam?”

“Absolutely. Anything you ask me to.” Her eyes had a spark of intelligence in them, and she smiled at the thought of all the things I could ask her to do.

“What do you think of Betsy over there, Sam?”

Sam rolled her eyes. It was so sexy. I was really falling for her. “She got to give you a hand job, and she acted like it wasn’t a privilege. I think she’s stupid. Clearly she’s a slut, and she needs to accept it.”

I smiled faintly and walked around the desk. She walked to meet me and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing my neck and sucking at it. I pushed her away from me and she gave me a quizzical look, but she simply stood where I apparently wanted her. “It’s too bad that you don’t like her, Sam, because I’m going to have you fuck her now.”

All throughout this, Betsy had been composing and steeling herself for what she had realized she was going to be doing, and now she stood, taking off her light sweater to reveal the small, perfectly round tits beneath. Her nipples were hard and erect, and I stared interestedly at her legs as she got rid of her skirt and threw it aside. She was wearing modest heels and panties, which had a noticeable wet spot on them. I instructed Betsy to get rid of the panties and she did, leaving the heels on. She ran her hand down her stomach and moved her fingers through the thick forest of pubic hair she had down there. It really turned me on.

Sam looked from me to her, clearly disappointed, and hesitated. “I don’t like women.”

I smiled reassuringly and gave her a small kiss on the mouth, motioning Betsy to lie down on the floor and spread out her legs. “Sam, you do like women. Think about it.”

Sam furrowed her brow, which was also extremely sexy, and leaned back against the wall. She really did think about it, then looked at me and giggled a little. “She does have a nice ass, doesn’t she?”

I told Betsy to roll over on her stomach and put her ass on display. Everything on Betsy was nice. Her back was smooth and curved, and her ass was sticking up in the air. I had her wiggle it a little. She still wasn’t enjoying a bit of this, but at least she didn’t seem totally miserable. Maybe a part of her liked it, or could like it. I smiled and told her she had a nice ass, then told her to roll back over into the position she’d been in before.

I turned to Sam and told her to undress. She did without a word, just smiled at me. I thought she was probably something of a slut anyway, and she seemed to like all of this, especially the way my eyes followed her dress to the ground. Her legs were even longer than I’d thought at first, and her pussy was totally void of hair. Her tits were gorgeous, and when she saw me staring at them she brought her hands up and squeezed them, running her fingers over them and making circles around her nipples, moaning a little.

“Sure you don’t want to just leave her out of this, baby?” She asked me. I smiled and walked over to her, giving her another little kiss and pressing my cock against her pussy, feeling the warmth there even through my jeans.

“You’ll see, Sam. Just do as I tell you.”

She smiled and nodded. I loved how eager she was to get started.

At my instruction, Betsy spread her legs out as far as they’d go, which was damn impressive. They nearly formed a straight line from left to right. I grinned at Sam and told her I hoped she was that limber. She playfully stuck her tongue out at me and I had her walk over and stand before Betsy’s dripping pussy, spreading her legs wide and bending down the least she had to in order to get her mouth to Betsy’s gash. This position spread Sam’s ass wide and left her pussy open, and I moved to stand behind her, opening my jeans and watching my erect cock spring to life.

Betsy was moaning almost against her will, wanting desperately to seem like she didn’t want this, but by this time she did. Sam seemed to be preternaturally gifted with her tongue, and Betsy moaned heavily, her breathing picking up and becoming ragged. I liked the look on her face; she didn’t seem to have any qualms now, not even about having a lesbian encounter with a girl she didn’t know. She moaned loudly and screamed out Sam’s name, bucking her hips and reaching up to squeeze her own tits. She came with amazing speed, and Sam licked hungrily at her, almost like she was addicted to Betsy’s juices.

I gingerly placed my hands on Sam’s ass cheeks and she wiggled her ass at me almost without thinking about it. I had originally been going to fuck her pussy doggy-style, but after the attention she drew to her ass, I changed my plans. Her ass was nice and round, and meaty without really being fat. When I entered her, she flexed her ass cheeks to make it even tighter. I could hardly even move. I grunted and jerked my hips, forcing all eight inches of my erect cock into her. She gasped with surprise as I filled her up, and then went back to mouthfucking Betsy, who was now on her way to her second orgasm.

Fucking Sam was incredible. She managed to make all kinds of noises even when her tongue was working furiously at Betsy and her mouth was half-full of unswallowed pussy juice. She started rhythmically working her hips to make it a little easier on me to fuck her ass, and eventually it got easier. I pressed deep into her as Betsy’s legs wobbled up and down off the ground. I didn’t know where to look, everything was so amazing—Betsy’s thin, gorgeous legs, spread out as far as the muscles would allow and working unconsciously as Betsy rocketed toward another orgasm, Betsy’s shocked pentacostal face, strained with ecstasy, or Betsy’s gorgeous smallish tits. I loved the way Betsy was alternating between kneading her tits and almost frantically running her hands down over her stomach; she loved touching herself.

Sam’s back was bent sharply, and I loved the way the knobs of her spine stuck out, every muscle in her perfectly tan body straining with the pressure of maintaining this position. I ran my hands down her thighs and back up, eliciting more noises from her, loving the way her gorgeous crimson hair was splayed out to cover parts of Betsy’s stomach, and the way Betsy was rubbing Sam’s hair against her bare skin.

I came ferociously and cried out, almost losing my balance and falling with the staggering force of it, then pulled out of Sam quickly, almost violently. She cried out at the suddenness of it and I just stepped back for a moment, watching how thoroughly enrapt Betsy was. She screamed Sam’s name and came again, and still Sam wouldn’t stop, even though Betsy must be exhausted, not to mention Sam’s aching back. I rubbed my hand down her back for a moment, then down to her ass, rubbing it and talking quietly to her, beginning to smack her ass, lightly at first and then harder, eventually leaving red welts with each slap. She loved it.

“Do you like this, Sam?” Slap.

“Unnnh.”

“I said do you like this, Samantha?” A harder slap.

“Ohhh, yeah..”

“You sure?” My hand slamming down onto her ass, even stinging my hand.

“Ohh God, baby, yeah, yes..”

“Are you my perfect little slut? You and Betsy?” Two hard, fast slaps, one for each cheek, leaving red welts.

“Oh, uh-huh, me and..” She had to stop and swallow, “Betsy are your sweet perfect little sluts.”

I smiled, loving the way she could talk while doing the great job on Betsy she was doing, then moved around to Betsy, kneeling next to her and leaning down to kiss her full on the mouth, my tongue reaching uninvited and finding hers, loving the way it shied away at first and then responded, her hand reaching up to touch my cheek. I kissed her over and over again and talked to her the way I’d talked to Sam.

“Enjoying yourself, Betts?” A small peck on the mouth.

“Yes..”

“Do you love this, Betsy?” A bigger kiss, a little tongue.

“Ohhh, yeah, I love it..”

“Do you want her to just fuck you forever, babe?” My mouth pressed hard against her, my tongue practically in her throat.

“Oh, no, I want you to fuck me forever..”

I smiled at that. I hadn’t programmed her to want that. She was enjoying this. I gave the tit she wasn’t squeezing in her hand an affectionate squeeze and stood back up, looking her in the eye as she stared raptly at me.

I stepped back around them, deciding that Sam deserved an orgasm for all this work, and rammed my cock into her pussy, getting a startled grunt out of her and then a deep sigh, Betsy now looking at me and trying to catch my eye as I rocked in and out of Sam’s pussy, loving the way it felt and how smooth it was after her ass. I told Sam she could take her mouth off of Betsy now, then pulled briefly out of her as she laid down on her back and spread her legs out welcomingly, moving onto her and locking my mouth with hers, moaning at how fresh Betsy’s taste was in her mouth and moving with all the speed I had in me, every muscle strained as I fucked her as hard and thoroughly as I could.

I felt something on my back and looked around for a moment and saw Betsy there, still horny somehow, kissing my back and running her hands over it. She wanted me now that she’d so thoroughly had Sam, I guessed. I didn’t plan to fuck her, I was so enthralled by Sam’s body, but started to give it some thought. Not today, though. I would be back.

I drove my cock hard and deep into Sam, all the way up to my hips with each hard thrust and nearly all the way out, over and over, bringing her easily to the brink and keeping her there for a while, my lips roaming over her neck and her flawless tits, mashing my mouth against them as I felt her legs wrap around me and squeeze me. When I moved back up to kiss her, she wrapped her arms so tightly around my neck that I could hardly breathe. It seemed that every muscle in her was contracted, and then she came. She screamed my name and every part of her went limp.

I kept going until I came, too, then slowly pulled out. As soon as my cock was clear, Betsy was grabbing at it, wanting to give me a blow job or fuck me, or do anything to me. I shook my head and brushed her away. She got the same hurt look on her face as when I asked her if she’d fucked before, and I gave her a little kiss.

I smiled at her. “I’ll be back, Betsy.”

She smiled back and teased my cock with her fingernails. “I hope. When?”

I shrugged, then stopped time. I programmed the two of them to forget what had happened today, but as an afterthought programmed Betsy to remember when I gave her a voice command, and Sam to remember today as meeting a charming young man and wanting to call him. I gave her my phone number and programmed Sam to take her book and leave without looking back. I dressed them both and restarted time.

Sam left with a dazed look on her face, having to unlock the door to leave and barely realizing it. I watched her ass as she left and turned back to Betsy, who had a disapproving look on her face.

“What?” I asked. I pretended to be irritated.

“I’d rather not say” She started. I cut her off.

“It’s not going to bother me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I hate the way you do that. You stared at me and then you stared at her. When are you men ever going to stop that?”

I smiled and shrugged, then went back to the table and got the book. “I’d like to check this out, please.”

Betsy picked it up and checked both of the inside covers for a barcode she could scan. There was none, even though all the library books had one ever since they’d changed the system in ‘95 or so. She turned it over and flipped briefly through it, without bothering to read any of it.

“I don’t think this belongs to the library,” she said.

I shrugged. “I’ll just take it then.”

She started to say something, maybe a protest, and then on the spur of the moment I decided to badger her a little. “Ever masturbated, Betsy?”

She looked at me with nothing but absolute shock and disgust on her face. “I, I—”

I grinned. “Don’t lie to me. Eighth grade, bathtub. You didn’t come, but it was a sin anyway, wasn’t it?”

She had been looking me in the eye, but now she couldn’t. She looked to be on the verge of tears, and I felt bad about it. She really did care a lot about her morality. I picked up my book and started out the door, leaving her confused and bewildered. As I pulled away from the library, thoughts of Betsy and even of Sam began to fade away. All I could think about was the book. The Book. There were so many spells in there, and they could be used so many ways. I smiled a little and sang tunelessly along with the radio on the way back to my house. I was going to profit greatly from being a wizard.