The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Ma’am,” the burly man behind the desk said, “you’ll have to wait for us to call you. I’m sorry, but that’s how it works.”

“I.... but...” Vivian stammered. She’d never been to a police station before, other than to register her bicycle. The longer she waited, the more likely she’d lose her nerve.

God, what was she going to say? That there was a plant in her neighbor’s backyard that was taking over people’s minds? They’d never believe her, but she just had to get one person out there to look, just one witness, and they’d see...

With a bang, the double doors from the parking lot flew open and two policemen came in, dragging a man between them. The man was kicking and yelling, and several other policemen hustled out from behind the swinging interior door to help subdue him.

“You don’t understand!” he screamed. “Let go! I have to get out of here—they’ll find me here!” He writhed and thrashed as a half-dozen cops strained to hold him down. Just as a policewoman with bright red hair grabbed at his leg, he kicked out with it, and she staggered away, blood spurting from her nose.

“That’s it, asshole!” Suddenly the air was filled with a loud, wet thumping as nightsticks materialized and began to flicker up and down amongst the pressed bodies.

Vivian couldn’t watch, and averted her eyes only to find herself looking at the red-haired policewoman, looking back at her. Her mouth and chin were covered in blood, which was dripping onto her blue shirt, but she looked more chagrined than angry.

The thumping quieted, and the little knot of blue backs broke up. The man was now in a fetal position on the floor, moaning. Two of the policemen yanked him to his feet by the armpits, and frog-marched him into the station.

The red-haired woman, mopping at her face with a sleeve, followed the crowd inside, leaving Vivian alone in the lobby again.

Vivian couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t. She walked up to the desk.

“Yes, ma’am?” the desk sergeant said tiredly.

“Look, can I just have someone come by my house to take a statement? Please?”

He looked at her, then at the floor, still speckled with drops of blood. “Yeah,” he replied, “okay. I’ll have someone swing by at shift-end. It’s not procedure, but I can understand if you want to get out of here.”

“Thank you,” Vivian replied with feeling.

He smiled wanly. “No problem. Give me your address—someone should be by about five-thirty tonight.”

Claire’s car was parked in front of Carol’s house. Vivian felt the mixed tug of remorse and lust she felt whenever she thought of the girl, now trapped in some pod and mutating into who-knows-what while her vegetable duplicate went about its nefarious business.

But not for much longer. Vivian pulled into her driveway.

Well, here she was, home again. She didn’t know how she felt. It was a bit like that moment she’d had when she realized that Yes, this was All There Was. She’d pulled the plug on the fantasy. It was a dangerous fantasy, and it was hurting people, but it had shattered her unsatisfactory little world, and that gave it some claim on her. That, and the fact that she had cum more and harder in the last few days than in the rest of her life. Maybe she should have been selfish, let Carol and Claire and the thing keep adding to their little collective and providing her with beautiful girls to have sex with.

Don’t be stupid, she told herself, closing the garage door and fumbling for her keys. This is the real world, and two of the people you care about have already been replaced by these duplicates. You had to do it. She opened the door, stepped in, and flipped on the lights.

“Welcome home, Vivian,” Carol said.

Vivian shrieked, and dropped her keys.

Carol and Claire were standing to either side of the door, which gently swung closed.

“Hi Miss Laurence,” Claire said, putting her hand on Vivian’s shoulder.

Carol put a hand on Vivian’s other shoulder.

Oh Shit, oh shit, oh shit—suddenly, Vivian found that she very much did not want to have some plant alien take over her mind. The hands tightened on her shoulders.

The two women walked Vivian forward, into the kitchen. With their hands on her shoulders, Vivian flashed suddenly back to the lunatic at the police station. Somehow, that gave her the courage to speak up.

“Um, Carol? I thought you weren’t going to ‘get me’?”

“We aren’t, Vivian.”

“Then what?”

Vivian was led into the family room, the hands on her shoulders tight enough that she knew she couldn’t jerk free. She looked around quickly. The policeman would be coming by in two or three hours. If they just held her here, she could...

There was someone seated on the sofa.

Red hair, in a neatly bobbed pageboy cut, turned to face her.

“Ba-Barbara?” Vivian squeaked.

Barbara didn’t smile at her. Her eyes were dead, dead.

“Yes, Vivian,” Carol said. “Barbara.”

“Oh, God,” Vivian said, as she was stopped facing Barbara. “You got Barbara. Why did you get Barbara?”

“She’s very valuable,” Claire said. “when Claire’s mother wanted to quit smoking, Barbara helped her. She is quite a powerful hypnotherapist.”

“And her number was in your little black book,” Carol added. “She was very happy to come over and help you.”

“And now she is going to help us, aren’t you, Barbara?” Claire asked.

“Of course,” Barbara replied, her eyes never leaving Vivian’s.

Sudden pressure on her shoulders forced Vivian to her knees. Now she was kneeling in front of Barbara, Claire and Carol flanking her. She looked at Barbara’s feet.

Her shoes were muddy.

“You’ve really got her, haven’t you?” Vivian said in a small voice.

“Yes,” Barbara said, “they really have me. I have been joined with them. Soon my duplicate will take my place, and I will sleep, to be re-born.”

“I’m so sorry, Barbara.”

“Don’t be. This is the best possible thing that could have happened to me.”

Vivian didn’t say anything.

“Look into my eyes, Vivian,” Barbara said.

A moment passed.

“Look into my eyes, Vivian.”

“Are you going to hypnotize me?”

“Yes, I am. We need to be sure that you do not give us away.”

“I’d rather not be hypnotized.”

“You’ve said that before. But this time, I must insist. Look into my eyes.”

Vivian swallowed. They could force her chin up, maybe force her eyes open. She could still resist. But if she continued to fight, there was always another option they could use. And then she’d be sitting there glassy-eyed, just like Barbara.

“Okay. Just... don’t...”

“You will do as you are told, and make no demands. Look into my eyes.”

Carol closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly raised her gaze up, over Barbara’s short black skirt, her sweater, her pointed chin, her full lips. To her dark eyes.

“That’s right, Vivian. Look into my eyes. Deep into them. Deep, deep into my eyes.”

Something was slowly pulsing in them. Vivian stared, then realized that it was the reflection of a strobe light from behind her. Barbara must have come with her professional bag.

“You are moving into them, Vivian. Drifting. Deeper, and deeper, into my dark, dark eyes. They are pulling at you, and you are letting yourself be pulled into them. Deeper, and deeper. Deep down into my eyes.”

Brought her bag. That was convenient, Vivian thought drowsily. Almost as convenient as that monotone voice and those dead eyes. Those dead, dark eyes...

She blinked, and even that was slow. It was happening to her so fast...

“Just look into my deep, deep eyes. You are becoming sleepy, drowsy, but you can’t do anything other than move deeper and deeper into my eyes. You are becoming relaxed, so relaxed. Drifting down, down, into my eyes.”

So dark. She felt them capture her, felt herself slide into them, past the point where she could look away. Barbara’s voice was so soothing, flat, not boring but compelling, mixing into her thoughts. She knew Barbara was their creature, that she was giving up, surrendering to them, but it was so easy.

And anyways, she wanted to.

“You aren’t thinking now, Vivian. Just falling, drifting, pulling into my eyes. Relaxing. Not thinking. So relaxed. So empty. No thoughts, no thoughts, no thoughts. Just drift.”

She was drifting away, now. Into those dark eyes. Somewhere, things were happening, but not here. Here it was just her, calm, relaxed, drifting.

Doing what Barbara said.

“My voice is the only voice, Vivian. You trust it. You believe it. You are relaxed, floating, deep down in my dark, dark eyes. And you hear my voice, and it relaxes you. It is all you hear. You trust it, and you want to do what it says.”

Of course she would do what Barbara said. Her world was darkness, pulsing slowly, slowly with light from somewhere that Vivian couldn’t remember. The voice was all there was.

“All you know is my voice, Vivian. Only my voice. My voice is your thoughts, it is all there is. Listen to my voice, and answer it. Answer the voice that is all there is.”

“Are you listening, Vivian?”

“Yes...” Vivian said, drifting in the darkness of her eyes.

“Where were you this afternoon, Vivian?”

“I went to the police station.”

“Why?”

“To tell them what was happening.”

“And did you?”

“No.”

“Good.” Vivian felt a lightening, a happiness. Barbara was pleased with her. “What did you do instead?”

“I asked one of them to come to my house. I was going to tell him.”

“When was he going to come?”

“Tonight, about five-thirty.”

“Good, Vivian. Good. You are telling me everything, and that is good.” Vivian smiled faintly under her unfocused eyes.

“When he comes tonight, you will tell him that nothing is wrong. You believe that nothing is wrong.”

“Yes... nothing is wrong.”

“I shall tell you what you will tell this policeman when he comes. You will tell him...”

Vivian answered the door. Her surprise at seeing the desk sergeant himself there was numbed by the instructions pulsing in her mind. She smiled, puppet strings pulling the corners of her mouth up.

“Hello, officer.”

“Hi, ma’am. I’m here to take your statement. I’ve got the paperwork and everything. Can I come in?”

“Thank you, officer,” she heard herself say. “But I’m afraid I have taken your time for nothing. It turns out that I was the victim of a practical joke. My bicycle has been returned to me.”

He frowned. “Oh.” There was a pause. “Well, okay.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “I do appreciate the extra time you took to come out here.”

“It’s not a problem,” he replied. “I just live over in Cloverdale Hills. So you’re good? Don’t need anything?”

“That’s right, officer,” she replied. “I’m just fine. Thank you so much.”

He shrugged, then walked away down the walkway.

Staring blankly after him, Vivian asked “Have I done well?”

“Yes, Vivian, very well,” Barbara said, emerging from the kitchen. “Now, come sit with me. There is more I must do to you before I go.”

“Yes, Barbara,” Vivian replied, and, head loose on her neck, walked to the couch. She sat down, turned to face Barbara.

“Look into my eyes, Vivian. Look into them and sleep.”

They pulled her in with the force of a whirlpool.

Vivian stood with Carol and Barbara and watched the SUV come to a stop at the end of the driveway. She was relaxed. Barbara was controlling her, and she just had to obey. It was easy.

A woman emerged from the driver’s side of the SUV. Claire stepped out of the passenger side.

“Hello, Doctor Moore. Claire said that you needed to see me. Is this your house? Claire wouldn’t say.” The woman shot her daughter—no, the copy of her daughter, Vivian thought with a blurry sense of amusement—a look. “She’s been acting very strange.”

“Hello, Mrs. DaSilva. Elizabeth Cady Stanton Purple.”

Mrs. DaSilva’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. It looked like she had suddenly become drunk.

“Whaaa... no, I don’t wan... here... hyp....”

“Elizabeth Cady Stanton Purple, Mrs. DaSilva,” Barbara repeated. “Sleep. Sleep now.”

Vivian saw Mrs. DaSilva’s face look betrayed beneath the trance that overtook her, then her eyes closed and she slumped into Claire’s arms. Her daughter’s doppelganger was right behind her, in the perfect place to catch her as she collapsed uncontrollably into trance.

“Vivian, help Claire bring her inside,” Barbara said, and turned to walk into Vivian’s house.

“Yes, Barbara,” Vivian replied. She bent to pick up Mrs. DaSilva’s feet. As she stood, her eyes lighted on Claire’s. How odd that her eyes are so bright and clear, Vivian thought, and mine are so foggy and dull.

They carried the helpless woman into Vivian’s family room and laid her on the couch.

“Vivian, sit next to her.”

“Yes, Barbara,” Vivian replied.

“Look into my eyes.”

“Yes, Barbara,” Vivian replied, and obediently looked into Barbara’s dark eyes.

“Maria, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Doctor Moore,” Maria replied.

“Good. Both of you are deep in trance, very deep, and starting to sink even further...”

“Yes, Doctor Moore,” Maria DaSilva replied dully, “I am ready.”

“Good. Vivian, Maria, follow me.”

Vivian wondered if she, too, was about to become a slave. It worried her, but obeying Barbara was more important. Eventually she was going to have a root growing into her skull, taking total control of her mind, anyway. It really didn’t matter when it happened.

Vivian trailed Barbara and the entranced Mrs. DaSilva back into the thicket.

The small clearing was still filled with waist-high weeds, pollen from the thick grass shimmering in the summer sunlight. But, among the grass, were several large, dark green pods. Vivian tried to remember how long ago she had been back here, but it was too much work and she gave up. Barbara had said not to think. Instead she simply looked at the pods.

In one of them, Claire DaSilva was undergoing a metamorphosis. In another, a duplicate of Barbara Moore was ripening, a slick black tube growing between its legs to suck the personality out of the brainbound woman whose thrall Vivian was in. Maybe that would happen tonight. Maybe she’d let Vivian watch.

Vivian would obey the new Barbara as eagerly as she obeyed this one.

There were more pods, and Vivian wondered if other duplicates, of women she knew, or didn’t know, were growing in them even now.

Then they were there, the first pod, the one with Carol in it, at Vivian’s right hand. Barbara turned to face them.

“Take off your clothes, Maria.”

After a moment for the command to filter into her dulled mind, Mrs. DaSilva began to unbutton her blouse. She dropped it on the ground, followed by her bra, and the floral print skirt she was in. Her panties followed. Vivian thought she was very pretty for woman in her forties, then chastised herself for thinking. She was just supposed to obey.

The vines were twitching. One of them slowly began to encircle Maria’s leg. She didn’t move.

“Go there, Maria,” Barbara said, pointing at the hole that was the center of the plant, “and lie down, face up.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Maria replied.

The vine, wrapped around her leg to mid-thigh, trailed after her as the naked woman stepped forward. Stopping at the hole, she looked into it briefly, then got to her knees. Then she lay down, putting the back of her head over the hole.

Other vines began to close in. Their grip was not strong, but they slithered over Maria’s prone body, across her legs, her belly, one curling around a breast.

One emerged from under Maria’s buttocks, then curled like a hook and pushed its way into Maria’s pussy. The hypnotized woman gave a small gasp, but her eyes remained blank, staring at the sky.

The vines stopped closing in, but the ones lightly clutching Maria DaSilva remained in motion, swaying or stroking, gently sliding along her body. The one between her legs pulsed.

Vivian felt her own excitement underneath the fog of trance, as Maria’s breathing began to grow louder. Her nipples, brushed by the occasional vine, had drawn taut, and were standing at full attention, pointing towards the sky. A moan came from her mouth, which had fallen open. And between her legs, the tentacle worked...

Then she jerked, a sharp twitch seizing her whole body, her face twisting in pain, eyes clenched. But just for a moment. Then, slowly, the tension drained away, and when her eyes opened again they were empty even of the spellbound mind that had recently occupied them.

Vivian was ready to stand mindlessly beside Barbara as Maria DaSilva had many more orgasms, cumming away her individuality until the vine was finally withdrawn from her head and the dark yellow pitch welled up from her skull to seal the hole.

Instead, Barbara turned to Vivian, who obediently turned her gaze to Barbara’s eyes, looking away from where Maria twitched and came as she was implanted. Barbara closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them and looked into Vivian’s.

“We are going inside now. Follow me.”

“Yes, Barbara,” Vivian said, and followed the red-haired doctor back through the thicket. Behind her, Maria moaned again.

The newly brainbound Maria and the copy of her daughter had gone home. Barbara had as well, though the bonds she placed around Vivian’s mind were strong and anyways Vivian had no desire to test them. She merely sat on her own couch, staring at nothing, quietly repeating her mantra of devotion.

At some point, Carol came in.

“Vivian,” said Carol. “Carol is ready to emerge.”

Even in her entranced state, Vivian’s heart sped up.

“You’ve been so valuable to us, we felt that you should see what your ultimate fate will be. What the fate of your species will be. Do you want to come watch her hatch?”

“Oh,” said Vivian, “yes.”

“Then come with me.”

They walked together into the thicket.

“We will probably have it take you, soon,” Carol said. “How do you feel about that?”

“I want it,” Vivian replied quietly.

“Of course you do. Barbara has seen to that. Speaking, of, the new Barbara should hatch tomorrow. Perhaps we shall keep you around to see that. You would enjoy it.”

“Yes,” Vivian replied. “I would.”

“Barbara has been so useful. Having to collect her early because of you has turned out to be quite a benefit to us.”

“I’m glad.”

“Yes, you are.”

They walked in silence through the grass. Some day soon, Vivian knew, she would walk back here and not return. It was something she had learned to look forward to.

Carol’s pod was under the same bush it had grown under, the same bush under which it had hatched out the simulacrum who was leading Vivian now, the same bush under which Carol had obediently clambered into it to become... something else.

The pod looked different now, older. The veins on the outside were tinged with brown, thicker and stiffer looking. It was too much work to try and remember how it looked the night that Carol was replaced, so Vivian settled for simply staring at it, waiting. Enthralled, she found she had infinite patience.

Eventually, it cracked open, the long, thin line down the side opening with an inhalation of air and a sucking sound.

Even entranced, Vivian found herself eager, breathing hard. Her eyes were locked on the slit in the side of the pod.

A hand emerged.

Just as on the night of newCarol’s birth, the hand was followed by an arm, and a shoulder, slick with goo. Vivian’s breath was loud.

Then the head emerged.

The other arm came free, and the newborn pulled itself out of the pod. Glistening back, ass, legs. A foot gently touched the ground. Then the other, and it stood up.

It was Carol.

And she was pregnant.

Vivian’s eyes were so wide they hurt. It was Carol, the same Carol, the Carol that had climbed into the pod many nights ago. Her skin was tinged with green, but Vivian couldn’t tell if that was her skin or simply the slime she wore like oil. And she didn’t care.

She was pregnant.

Carol’s stomach bulged as though she was in the eighth month of her pregnancy. Her bellybutton was flattened out, a circle drawn on the tip of her belly, without any depth. There was no sag, no flab—the pregnancy of a woman who exercised every day, the bulging stomach of a yoga instructor. Reflecting the moonlight from a thin coat of slime.

Slowly, Vivian raised her gaze to Carol’s eyes.

They were green. Deep, emerald green.

Dully, Vivian realized her pussy was burning, sparkling, thrilling with need. Were she not entranced, she’d be clawing at it helplessly, sobbing as she masturbated.

She kept staring into Carol’s eyes.

Carol smiled.

“Hi, Viv,” she said. She entranced Vivian with her new eyes. Then, gingerly, she stepped over the vines growing thickly upon the ground. Vivian watched her approach with some powerful emotion fluttering in her breast, beneath the blurry calm that Barbara had laid upon her. Her pussy was weeping, demanding attention, but a much more powerful emotion had come over her.

Worship.

Carol was so beautiful, naked and glistening, flawless. Her pregnant stomach only served to make her look more like a goddess.

Vivian wanted to fall to her knees, worship her, sob out her unworthiness and her love.

Instead, she watched dully as Carol approached her.

Carol smiled beatifically down at her round belly. “Seeds, Viv. I’m full of seeds. I’m going to take their—our—babies all around the world. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Vivian just looked at her. Her words were meaningless. She was so beautiful.

“You are so special to us, Vivian. And not just because you protected us until we could capture enough humans. No, for your potential.”

Carol stretched, her body glistening in the moonlight. “The keeper that is grown in our minds to control us alters the human brain. Damages it, as it grows. It’s fixable, but the new mind—my mind—isn’t the same.” Carol ran a finger across Vivian’s cheek, leaving a shining trail. Vivian shivered. “But your mind is undamaged. How unlikely, that we could have an undamaged mind to make our own.”

Carol bent closer, to whisper in Vivian’s ear. “You see, you are special beyond words. No matter how deep Barbara’s control, no one else would do what you will do. Maria wouldn’t. Barbara wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. The human mind, unless it is properly harnessed, rebels against surrendering itself to us.”

Carol kissed her, lightly, on the lips. “But you won’t. You want it.”

Carol turned to look at the pod she had just emerged from, and with her hand turned Vivian’s chin until she too was looking at it. “Isn’t it beautiful? It will strip away the humanity, and leave so much more in its place.”

Then Carol whispered in her ear. “It’s yours now, Vivian. Crawl inside. When you wake up, you will understand everything. Be reborn into us.”

Vivian looked back at Carol, into her shining green eyes. She didn’t need to ask the question.

“Yes, Vivian. Crawl inside. Sleep, and wake as one of us.”

She looked back. It was open, the thin seam still agape. She took a step forward. Then another. The pod suddenly became blurry, and she realized she was crying.

Then she touched it, and shuddered all over.

She stripped out of her clothes.

Naked, she stuck out a toe, pushed it inside. Like a bather testing the water. It was slimy, cool. She realized she hadn’t been breathing, and gasped.

She looked back at Carol. At the Carols.

They were so alike, standing there, one with blue eyes like the deep sea, one with green eyes like a gemstone of incalculable worth. One with a belly full of seeds to create new creatures, like this one a thousand times over.

Carol—her Carol, the real Carol, Carol reborn as Earth Goddess—nodded. And Vivian looked back at the pod.

It was cool on her flesh as she slowly thrust her leg in. It gave her support, and she found that she could squat and then lean on her hands to lift the other leg, slide it inside as well.

Then both legs were inside, and Vivian began to push her entire body into the pod. She watched the glistening clear slime as it consumed her pussy, her navel, her breasts.

She stopped at her shoulders, lifted her left arm, and slowly pushed it in as well.

She leaned her head back, then, to take a last look at Carol. Love bloomed in her heart.

Then she stuck her head in, pulled in her arm, and took a deep breath of slime.

And slept.