The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Heidi looked at Julia Shelton with a mix of skepticism and amusement. The whispers and rumors of someone leading a rapidly growing sexual cult movement seemed completely off base. True, she was attractive, but she certainly didn’t seem powerful, at least aside from a large dose of personal charisma.

Obviously, she was a woman outside social norms—but not in any way that was particularly strange until the pieces were put together. That was the intriguing part. She apparently had managed to inject herself into the leadership and agenda of the Society of Moral Women, or SMW, as it was starting to become known. How did some latex-and-leather goth queen rise to such heights, especially with women who were avowed haters of self-expression and feminism?

Heidi, the woman, found it mildly curious. Heidi Terrence, the reporter, found it a bit too much to believe.

“You see, Heidi,” said Julia, continuing the casual interview, “there’s nothing really new in any of this. I’ve been placed on a pedestal by some people for talking about things that, inside, we as women have always known were true.” As if to make the point, Julia stretched, her erect nipples pressing against the flimsy material of her blouse.

“Like what, for instance?” asked Heidi, nonplussed. She did her best to look interested, but so far, she wasn’t really enthralled. So much for mystique.

“Well, like beauty. It’s no secret. Men and women alike generally agree that the female form is the more beautiful of the two genders. Well, except for a few on either side of the gender gap. In a very deep way, all of us are attracted sexually and philosophically to the female body and mind. Even misogynists are trying to cope with it. They want to reduce women to a lower status in order to elevate themselves. But women are in control, and always have been. That’s the big mistake of modern feminism. They believe there’s a fight to be had. In reality, we have always been victorious, because there’s no real comparison.”

Heidi gave Julia a scornful look as she watched her interviewee play with her nipple through the black cotton. It was painfully obvious that she hadn’t worn a bra today.

“What about pay differences?” asked the incredulous Heidi. “Surely you don’t think we’ve been on top in that arena.”

“That’s a common complaint, for sure. But let’s look at it. Money is a male construct. Politics are a male construct. Religion, at least in modern times, is a male construct. In every case, it has been an effort to limit the natural power of women, a way of placing an arbitrary value on a person based on totally invented rules.”

Julia lowered her face and smiled seductively at Heidi as she rolled her nipple through the material between two fingers.

Unconsciously, Heidi began to mimic her movements.

“No,” argued Heidi, “money is real.”

“No it isn’t. It’s a complex and abstract system of I.O.U.’s completely reliant on an agreement that money is actually worth something. When you work, you get money. That money buys you electricity, a car, a house. What you are really saying is that X hours of a particular kind of work is worth Y amount of electricity. Or X amount of hours of a particular service is worth a Y kind of car. Money is simply a voucher that you’ve done something worthwhile. And everyone agrees that money means that. So in terms of real, absolute power, it means very little.”

Julia stood for a moment, pulling off her sweat-and-sex soaked latex panties and holding them briefly to her nose. Handing them to Heidi, she smiled as her interviewer did the same and moaned slightly.

Heidi was finally getting interested. In a kind of delusional way, it even made some sense. It’s a logical philosophy, she thought as she closed her eyes to focus on the pleasure of Julia’s hand sneaking down under her waistband to gently stroke the wet outer lips of her reporter’s pussy.

“So how do you... define... ‘real’ power... Julia?” she managed to say between ragged gasps.

Julia’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Real power is freedom. It is the ability to choose. At first, the only way to know something is a choice, rather than habit, is to choose something you know you don’t want to do. And how is that done? Certainly, as soon as you choose it, it is what you want to do, so you have immediately nullified the intent.”

Julia paused, licking her dark burgundy lips and letting her right hand seductively rub her belly.

“So,” she continued, “you need someone to choose for you. And you follow the instructions. Period. That’s the only way to know you are choosing freely, and not because you are tied to some inner fixation,” replied Julia. “It’s a paradox that we all know well... to be free, you must give up what you already think of as freedom.

“It’s like you’re in a box, and the instructions on how to get out of the box are on the outside. You need someone to read them to you.”

“Well...” sighed Heidi, finally unable to come up with another question. She placed her hand to her crotch, enjoying the feel of the material between their hands as Julia’s deliciously dancing fingers invaded her inner folds, causing Heidi to cry out in ecstatic pleasure. There was no use in arguing. Julia was right. Julia was always right. Julia would always be right.

A tiny voice in her head began telling her that something odd was going on, but she was too busy to notice as she suckled the fingers of Julia’s other hand, covered in the sweet juices of the Goddess herself. It was much too important... too blissful... to worry about silly little details.

Then, in a flood of unexpected awareness, a klaxon went off in her head crashing through her wanton reverie. This was all wrong... completely crazy... she was having an intellectual conversation while giving herself to this stranger, this gorgeous woman...

And then she was awake, swatting the alarm clock. No snoozing this morning.

She spent the early day on the Internet, in the news files and in the paper’s library, trying to dig up background for the story and interview she was working on. There were few references to Julia Shelton, although there were plenty on her primary associations.

Lindsey Thomas, who had lost a bid for re-election to Congress in November, topped the list of strange coincidences. Upon the death of her husband and her consequent election to the Senate, she had done a nearly 180 degree turn in her stance on gay rights, the military and a whole smattering of controversial issues. Yet up to that time, she had been a vocal, public supporter of her husband’s social conservatism. Some had even considered her the architect of his success.

She had been seen in the company of Ms. Shelton with increasing frequency, as had Jesse Mattox, the President of the SMW, and other Washington notables. Their changes in goals seemed to coincide with articles mentioning Ms. Shelton as a confidant. There was nothing direct, but there was certainly inference. She wondered what kind of charismatic charm this woman might have...

With a small salad for lunch in her hands, she returned to the newsroom for her final preparation. The interview would take place in the office of the publisher, Regina Galveston herself. She doubted it would end up as much more than a human interest story, really, but something in the back of her mind was tickling her hunch-button that there might be a little more meat here.

As she distractedly licked excess salad dressing off of her fingers, she got the oddest sense of Deja vu.

Heidi was about to knock on the door of the office when she heard a low guttural moan from inside. She hesitated for a moment, listening. “Mmnnn, yessss... feel it as my pussy becomes the center of your world, Regina... hear the Song in your mind, coursing through your veins, owning you... changing you... taking you into the delicious black sweetness of my will...”

Heidi didn’t move. It had to be some kind of joke... except... except Ms. Galveston was not the kind of person to enjoy practical jokes. The room spun around her, and she almost imagined she could hear some kind of distant song, pulling at her even as she turned to go, like rubbery black glue pulling her hand slowly back to the knob, making it turn...

Her eyes closed as she swam in sudden, intense arousal, and then shot back open as she felt her pussy squish with wetness as she pressed her legs together. Visions of kneeling before Julia, of rapture, of love, of deep, dark, molten longings began to press out her ability to see or think clearly.

Her rebellious hand slowly turned the knob and pulled the door open... and as loud chiming announced her presence, she saw Regina, naked and sporting a huge black silicone dildo, kneeling at Julia’s crotch, licking and licking, completely obsessed with the offered cunt. She felt her wetness squish as she moved her legs together... and gasped as the publisher of one of the most prestigious dailies in the nation looked over and smiled in invitation to join her, her face shining with the dew of Julia... of Goddess...

... and she was awake, her sheets twisted between her legs, her body drenched in sweat. She snapped off the alarm and stumbled into the shower, still dazed by the strange and powerful vision.

There was no question that her coming interview was getting to her. Roger, her boyfriend, even mentioned it over dinner. “This Julia Shelton thing seems to be consuming you. Maybe you need a break,” he said, reaching out to touch her. As she felt his strong hands tenderly take hers across the table, she felt an entirely unexpected revulsion pass through her. It was like being held by a dead fish.

Her head was swimming and she stood up and left the table.

“Heidi?” said Roger, his voice coming to her like he was talking through molasses.

“Got to get some air... or something...” she mumbled, taking a faltering step and then staggering to the door of the restaurant. Her head was throbbing in time with something... something like the essence of everything, and she lost track of where she was as she wandered down the street.

Dark shop windows passed by her, or she passed by them... it was hard to tell which. It was as if she were floating in a dense fog, while her eyes sought something, someone...

And there she was. Standing under a streetlight, all spandex and leather, Julia was watching her and smiling.

“Now, cunt-slave, we can truly begin your journey,” came the words of the Goddess, echoing inside her. They spun around and around, kissing and licking...seducing her from the inside, making her dizzy.

Julia reached down and ran her finger through her wet cunt and slowly, lovingly, took a glistening fingertip and traced Heidi’s lips. Closing her eyes and nearly fainting, the hapless reporter let herself fall into wanton desire and lust.

“Call Roger. Tell him you want to be alone to rest and that you’re taking a cab home. He’ll go to your apartment anyway, and find you haven’t gone home... at least the home that he knows you by. When he gets angry tomorrow, you will tell him that you will never see him again. You will tell him you are in love with someone else. Anything else would be a lie. You don’t want to lie.”

Heidi swam through the ambrosia of Julia’s words, knowing that this was how it was meant to be, that it was her destiny to worship this... person. The words True Daughter sang to her from the depths of her past, a history held deeply in every cell of her body...

She looked down and saw she was holding a cell phone. It was beeping. She giggled. Cell phones don’t beep like that, she thought. And then she was falling upward, torn away from the bliss...

...and into her bedroom. She tapped off the alarm and continued to finger herself rabidly as her orgasm approached. Faster and faster, pistoning, her mind focused on worshipping Julia the only way she could... the only way that was right....

“Unnnngh God YES fuck my pussypussypussy feel it so good oh fuck me yes god cum oh please let me cumcumcum mmmmmmm oh GODDDD fuck it yeah baby make it cum for me mmmm rub it... oh god oh GOD oh holy fucking shit gotta do it do it...”

Her voice grated out of her through clenched teeth as she imagined herself with her pussy grinding forward and back over Julia’s nimble, pointed slick tongue...

“OH MY GOD YES FUCK MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” she cried, a vision of liquid latex sliding over her, engulfing her, sliding into her, into her cunt, her snatch, her twat, down her throat, fucking her from the inside... the song of her dream pounded like thunder in her ears and she saw Julia, really Julia, standing at the foot of her bed, watching her with spiked, gelled hair and a the golden collar of a Goddess...

It hit her slowly, like a glacier of lava, unstoppable and growing... knocking her onto the floor, her body writhing and spinning and convulsing with flames of pleasure from the inside out... and then she was only the orgasm, only the climax... only the... cunt-slave...

When she came to her senses, she looked down at her sweaty body and licked her bruised lips. A vague sense of unreality still clung to her, like wisps of fog burning away. She thought she should be horrified at the strength of her dream.

But it just wasn’t so.

She reached down and ran her finger deep inside herself, covering herself with her own nectar, and held it to her mouth, hungrily licking and sucking it clean... and giggled at the wonder of feeling so free and unashamed.

And she listened to the Song that was still playing, like an unending loop of joy made real, playing like a symphony of the Sapphic heavens, playing deeply, playing endlessly, in the depths of her soul.

Heidi barely showed up in time for the interview in Ms. Galveston’s office.

She was out of breath, and as the secretary waved her in, she took a moment to straighten her hair and clothes. After the weird dreams and fantasies of the past two weeks, she wanted to make sure she didn’t give any sense of awkward hesitation or lack of professionalism.

Julia was sitting in one of the wing back chairs at the luxuriant coffee table in the part of the office reserved for visitors and one-on-one conferences. Regina’s large desk was noticeably vacant.

“Regina had some... errands to run. We can begin without her, I’m sure,” said Julia, as she stood and smiled at her interviewer. Heidi blushed as Julia gave her an appreciative look up and down. “No need to introduce yourself, Heidi.”

“Nor you, G... um, Julia,” said Heidi, her smile turning quickly to an embarrassed blush. Covering for her near mistake, she said, “I’m sorry. I keep thinking ‘Gloria’. I don’t know why.”

Julia paused and smiled, a touch of wickedness entering her face.

“Because that’s what angels sing before their deity, cunt-slave.”

Heidi screamed out in pleasure as the maelstrom of passion pulled her under, panting, ”God... not another... dream...“

“My dear, sweet, beautiful slut... tell me... how do you ever know which is the dream and which is reality? Did you think it a dream because you didn’t remember all of it? That’s only because it was too much for you bear without going completely insane... but now that I’ve built up your tolerance, it’s time to... mmmmmm... take your place before me.

“Lovely one, the dream was the hellish, lonely, pointless life that came before... now... it’s time for your full gracing... the moment that you will become completely mine.”

Heidi staggered as wave after wave of seductive pleasure moved through her, guiding her hands, making her want this... to just submit... obey...

“Noooo...” she whimpered, fighting off the feverish desire that was clawing inside her belly. “I’m... not... a slave...”

“Yes, you are, dear,” said Julia, gently. “You’ve only been able to choose what or who owns you. Your life up to now...” Julia gestured around the room, “or the life I’m giving you.”

Julia’s voice became husky, laced with the promise of untold and undeniable pleasure. “You might as well know that now, there is no longer any choice. You made your choice the moment we met...”

Heidi felt craving gnawing at her brain, needing... wanting... to show this woman, this Goddess her devotion... to feel the pleasure of surrender. Her tongue lashed the air in horny tribute to the complete submission of will and and body that was passing through her, deeper and deeper, leaving less and less of the woman she had once been.

She cried out as the nerve endings in her cunt burned outward, covering her skin. She fell to her knees (yes, worship my Goddess yes serve lick fuck yessss cunt-slave obey...), a whimper falling from her moist, swollen lips.

Julia reached out in Gracing, pushing the young beauty into further and further decadent desire, her feeding the wanton seeds of Heidi’s debauchery with her own insatiable lust. “You don’t know what an honor this is, cunt-slave,” whispered Julia. “Few taste the pleasure of my full attention.”

Heidi’s hands danced at her snatch and asshole, a tarantella of abandon, pressing pleasure through her body, obedient only to the desire and lust that was eating away her soul, her mind, her very existence. And then her face was covered with something, her ears filled with glorious song and joy, and her tongue reached out to pull in the essence of her life, her existence, her Goddess.

Fingers caught and roughly pulled at her stiff, swollen nipples. “Take of Me, My precious cunt-slave, and know your destiny now... and forever...”

Heidi could feel the juices flow into and corrupt her, taking what was not abandoned and changing it, loving it... and as the flames came in wave after wave, she fell to the onslaught, rational thought blasted away as the bliss and pleasure peaked and sent her into the throes of powerful, timeless, unstoppable orgasm.

The last thought that was her own was the awe and honor of giving herself to (god yes Mistress yes)—Julia... her Goddess.

And then, crying out in a bellow from deep within that shook the walls of the room, she came again, and again, each on top of the other, growing outward, blasting forth in heat and passion, as she was...

Reborn.

Julia held the young woman with a mix of tenderness and awe. She had suspected the woman to be a Lost Daughter, but the depth and subsequent shattering of her protective shell had caused a psychic burst so powerful that even Julia herself was taken by pleasure beyond that which she had heretofore known.

As she had momentarily lost herself in the nearly all-consuming sexual passion of joining, she had the vague sense of premonition... and her mouth had silently screamed the name...Joanna...

Where had it come from? And why?

And then, the thought was gone... and Julia, Goddess of the Path was left with a moist, delectable thought.

Many cum, but few are chosen...

She threw her head back and, joining her voice to the chorus of her Song of Authority, added a high, pure note of unspeakable joy.