The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sharon looked out at the western sky and squinted. It was going to be one hell of a storm, from the look of the clouds gathered on the horizon. She didn’t need the TV weatherman to tell her to move indoors. Although she figured she had at least an hour before the beast was here, she began to prepare the storm cellar.

She got eight gallons of water, flashlights, candles, food, and several changes of clothes just in case. She’d never been stuck down there, but she knew people who had. She didn’t want to go where they’d been, wondering if they’d survive long enough to be rescued.

She walked out to the back porch and felt her long, scarlet hair whip and begin to tangle. The wind was already making waves in the tall grass. She looked again at the sky, and at her watch. This was a fast one.

More urgent now, she grabbed the few valuables she had and, giggling at herself, grabbed her vibrator from the drawer in the bedside table. Along with a radio, several packs of fresh batteries and the first book she found, she made her way to the cellar, coming back only to latch and bolt the steel plate door.

She sent up a short, grateful prayer to her late husband for his foresight and craftsmanship—and felt just a twinge of the sadness that had plagued her for nearly three years after his death. Now, after four more, she rarely thought of him, except in times like these.

She lit the lantern that was always waiting in the small hole in the ground—waiting for times like these. She opened the book and began to read. Soon, her eyes were fighting her, and her head was drooping forward. And just like everyone who finds themselves touched by the mystical breath of fatigue, she didn’t notice in the slightest when her eyes closed and carried her off to sleep.

She woke up to the sound of hell. Even from her safe haven, she could here the wood moan and stretch, shaking the earth around her. Dust crumbled off the walls and fell to the ground. The sound was deafening, and Sharon began to feel panic nipping at the edges of her thoughts. It was getting louder and louder, and going on and on ...

Sharon screamed and realized she couldn’t hear herself at all. She could only feel air moving through her throat as the storm, so much bigger and stronger, screamed back at her. She threw her arms around herself and curled up, rocking herself in a vain attempt at comfort as the maddening wind howled more deeply, as if angry it could not take her.

Then, it was gone. Or almost gone. The sound nearly died away, and the last whips of wind blew mocking laughter as it faded altogether, off to torture some other woman, some other house.

Silence, eerie and alien, fell like a heavy curtain, while her ears rang for a long moment.

She unwrapped herself slowly and breathed deeply. The lantern was lit, she was in one piece, and she was unhurt. She went up to check the cellar door, but it wouldn’t budge.

Even though she’d been afraid, she now felt resolved, and even satisfied, in a way. This was why she’d prepared. She’d won. She would deal with the house and whatever damage had occurred later. For now, she had a book, water, food, and a vibrator. Her own little paradise.

She stood up and took the lantern down, casting its light around the small earthen room she’d be calling home. “Some curtains and a throw rug would complete the ensemble, setting off the room with understated elegance,” she thought, whispering and giggling out loud.

The sound of her voice reminded her, for a brief moment, of how alone she was.

The radio was dead. Even with fresh batteries, it was completely lifeless. Sharon still had water, food, and several kinds of entertainment. A book and a vibrator—perhaps she would diddle herself for a few days. The thought brought another giggle, and the barest twinge of arousal. There was something delicious and dirty about the thought of masturbating herself senseless while rescuers worked to find her.

She looked down at her bare feet, and noticed they were covered by shadows. She moved her feet, and the shadows moved with them. Taking a second look, she saw that it was some kind of black, oily gook. Her immediate thought was that it had come from a leaky can of something that her husband had left down there years before.

All she needed was to be overcome with fumes. She took the lantern, looking around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary at all stored on the shelves, no other evidence of the messy stuff.

Well, not so messy. It wasn’t coming off, whatever it was. She reached down and wiped some onto her finger. Odd. It did wipe off. She waved it under her nose and a wave of euphoric dizziness washed through her. It had a faint chemical or medicine odor which was actually rather pleasant, but the effect was certainly strong enough that it didn’t matter. It left her in a sort of daze for a moment, except everything seemed more clear at the same time.

She wiped it off on her shorts and swore. It wasn’t coming off again. ”Definitely strange stuff,“ she thought, bewildered and a little peeved.

She looked back down at her feet. She could almost swear there was more of the black gunk than only a few moments before. It looked almost like she was wearing skin-tight booties that even formed around her toes. She couldn’t tell if it was imagination or real, but her feet were feeling warmer, too. Almost like the feeling when a limb goes numb—a kind of non-heat that was a little alarming.

There was nothing to be done, at least until she got out of here. She picked up her book and began to read again. On the third page, her mind wandered off as she wondered who else had been trapped. Maybe Karen Jeffries, her friend from the neighboring farm. She laughed as she thought of both of them using their vibrators, cumming like crazy, and never admitting it to each other, but always wondering if they had acted alone.

“You should never be alone.“

Her mind went to her kitchen, and shameful admissions between the two of them, and the half-embarrassed offer to show each other what they had done. She could feel the heat building as she unconsciously sniffed her finger again.

Yes, and if Karen wouldn’t admit to it, she’d show her anyway, and make her do it so she would understand how good it was. How fucking good. And how much better when Sharon did it to her with her tongue.

The new and shocking thought startled her back to her senses, and she clasped her hands together, an embarrassed laugh coming from her lips. She looked down, and froze. Her entire right hand was shiny and black, and the stuff now covered the palm and undersides of the fingers of her other hand. She tried to wipe any of it off, but it still wouldn’t even smear. Her right palm was feeling hot now, too. Her feet were nearly devoid of sensation.

For some reason, she brought her hands to her nose and inhaled deeply. Her head swam in a pool of lust-ridden desire. It was so easy. So good. So nice. She dropped her hand, and with the desperation of a drug addict, pulled off her pants and began to rub her swollen, wet clit.

She felt the heat and knew. Her clit was black now. She didn’t care. Her whole fucking pussy would be black soon, and that was how it should be. She inhaled the scent again. Yes. She would fuck herself for Karen. For the blackness.

She turned on the vibrator and rubbed it in circles over her hot, steaming clit. She plunged her fingers deep inside, copulating as she fell onto the floor, writhing with need. The oily blackness let her finger slip easily into her asshole, making it tingle and clench.

She could feel it pressing up into her. The black goodness. She caught a glimpse of herself in the chrome casing of the lantern, distorted and sexy, dirty and slutty.

It sent her over the top, her body thrashing in the dirt, hands clawing at her crotch, toes curling crazily as the pleasure ripped through her like a scythe, cutting away any resistance, making her want it more, accept more, obey more, feel more, cum more... and then do it again... more entranced by the black oil, which was more pleasure which was more obedience... burning itself into her mind, and burning away the past...

Her thoughts were disjointed. As she swept upward to another climax she tried to think of her husband, but she couldn’t picture him. She couldn’t even remember his name. Soon, she knew, she would not remember him at all. And then she was smelling heaven again, and cumming and screaming and cumming and screaming and cumming and...

She felt rather than saw the light shine in from the cellar door. “Sharon?”

She waited silently and did not answer. A part of her still wanted to, but her task was before her now.

“It’s Karen. Are you down there?”

“Yes,” She answered. “I’m here.”

Karen stepped down into the darkness, but didn’t see anyone. “Where are you?”

She jumped as a rubbery hand covered her mouth and the Woman who had been Sharon whispered in her ear. “I’m right here, pet.”

Karen took a sharp intake of breath as surprise and fear hit her full force. What was Sharon doing? And what was... that smell... that... nice... aroma...

Officer Suzanne Withers knocked on the door of the Jeffries house. There wasn’t any answer. Karen hadn’t been to church this morning, and she hadn’t missed church since she was a child. The last thing anyone knew was that she was going to check on Sharon Osborne, her next door neighbor, who had been missing in the two days since the tornado.

Suzanne had already been to the Osborne place, and there was no sign of life anywhere. It looked like Sharon had made it to the storm cellar, but whether she had actually been there or just prepared it was anyone’s guess. She’d been a loner anyway—it was possible she’d gone away to live with family for awhile. There was certainly no sign of foul play or damage to the cellar itself. There was nowhere else to go but to Karen and Will Jeffries’ place.

“Karen?” called the deputy, standing outside the Jeffries’ broken screen door. “You here? Will?”

She walked inside and took a cursory look around. Nothing seemed out of place. Apparently it was simply a case of Karen losing her religion. ”Not hard to do if you think about being married to Will Jeffries,“ thought Suzanne.

She walked out the back door and around the house to her patrol car. As she pulled on the latch, she noticed that she’d gotten her hand dirty somewhere in the house. She reached in the car for a wet-nap, and tried to wipe it off. ”Damned stubborn,“ she thought, ”and blacker than sin...“

She was still trying to wipe it off as she drove away.

Inside the house, a door cracked open upstairs.

A vision in black appeared in the doorway. “The officer is gone, pet. I know you wanted to call her. You see how you already obey? And I can feel your thoughts now. You think she will report this, and perhaps return. She will, but it’s no matter. She has been Touched. She will be one with the Essence, just as you will, and become Mine. The Essence is as relentless as it is invincible. Breathe in the Scent of Pleasure and feel how true it is.”

Karen tried to fight the commandment, but it was so damned hard not to give in to the voice ringing in her head, making her body... do things. She was already finding it hard not to think “Queen” instead of “Sharon”. She looked at her Torturer and Temptress,completely black except for the inside of Her mouth and her eyes—even her hair, the envy of half the women in the county, had fallen out. The horror of seeing Her like this made everything surreal, and she could no longer tell if this was reality or delirium.

“Sh-Sharon. Why are you... doing this to... me?” Her hand slid across the bed, pressed down tightly as if moving under incredible weight. It slid up and over her breast to a place beneath her flaring noes, and waited.

It was completely black—almost like night, except for its gleaming skin. Karen, unable to resist the addictive euphoria, breathed deeply. Her eyes rolled back in her head as a little more of her brain was captured and corrupted. She could feel it happening, perhaps ten-thousand cells at a time. Opposing thoughts were fighting for control, each convolution a bitter battle of wills.

Karen was losing each fight, becoming more and more unable to muster up resistance with each assault.

The Woman who had been Sharon turned to look at Her first lesser one, who still managed to think of herself as Karen. Her body was stretched across the bed, arms and legs held tightly—not by ropes or chains, but by the Word of the Queen. The physical container of the lesser one already obeyed Her.

“You might as well ask a bird flying by. I am your Queen. The Sharon you remember is no more. Soon you will join with the Mind of Essence. It is as pleasurable as it is inevitable.”

Karen tried to respond, to come up with some cursing resistance, but all she could do was moan as waves of obedience pounded her psyche into submission.

Sharon stepped over to the side of the bed where Karen lay wrestling against her invisible bonds. She placed an ebony hand, smooth as silk, against Her own navel. She pulled outward slowly, creating a long, sinewy strand of viscous jet-black. She pressed it into the navel of the struggling woman and held it for a moment before letting go.

The strand began to thicken and pulse.

Waves moved down it’s length and into the captive female flesh of Karen Jeffries.

Her body began to undulate in time with the pulses.

Sharon closed Her eyes slowly, basking in the euphoria of the unholy union. Her hips swirled to unseen fingers playing at Her clit, while Her nipples lengthened and distended. Karen’s body began to move in concert. It was subtle at first; a twitch here and there, like a subdued version of the gyrations her friend—her Queen—was making.

As Sharon’s eyes reopened, Karen followed suit. Their stares locked, wide and unblinking, as Sharon’s lips began to move. They seemed to be forming words but no sound came from them. Karen’s lips started to quiver. Sharon ran Her hands over Her body and Her captive’s hands broke free, mirroring each movement.

It was as if a dam burst. Karen was soon moving in exact unison with her Captor, her Tormenter, her Lover, her Life. Yes, that was it. Her Life.

She heard the words first as they echoed in her mind, and then as they both began to speak aloud in unison.

“There is no old. There is only new.“

“There is Queen. There is Essence.“

“I love and serve Queen in all things. Obedience to Her is the nature of existence.“

Sharon began to fuck herself in earnest with her fingers now. No longer resisting, Karen matched her in body and in lust. Both women moaned loudly, the only difference found in the natural pitch of their voices, creating an eerie harmony of wild abandon.

“I surrender. I obey. I live. I desire. I adore. I become.“

“There is no old. There is only new.“

“There is Queen. There is Essence.“

“I love and serve Queen in all things. Obedience to Her is the nature of existence.“

“I surrender. I obey. I live. I desire. I adore. I become.“

Their voices were shouting now, punctuated by moans and gasps as their consummation came closer and closer. Over and over the words came, driving them into deeper and deeper oblivious passion. The Essence was visibly moving over Karen now, taking more and more of her, leaving only a few small patches of white skin uncovered.

Within moments, even that was gone.

Their locked vision broke and Sharon screamed in ecstasy as the reward for Her conquest sprang through Her. Karen’s scream was equally intense as both women stepped into the relentless pleasure of the Essence, flowing over and inside them, consuming all that was not Essence, and giving only blissful orgasm in return. They stiffened and shook as the sensations went beyond their capacity to respond, burning away into ash the women who had once been neighbors, had once been human.

Neither could remember anything but now, and what they had become. There was only the hunger for others to join them. To join the Essence.

Sharon turned to look at the lesser woman, Her eyes now as uniformly black as the rest of Her. Shapes and patterns erupted on Her skin, forming intricate pulsating spirals and facets that mirrored the light in ways that no woman, no person, had ever seen. Karen’s body followed as the last of her humanity disappeared into ebony slickness.

The Essence had more than one way to capture its prey.

Pleasure sprang from them in molecules as they breathed the Scent of Pleasure into the air. Their movements hypnotic, they vibrated in constant orgasm as they licked and nibbled their way up and down each others’ bodies, cycling the passion back and forth until the time to rest was upon them.

There would be more coming soon. They could feel the Essence growing in the distance around them. The Queen smiled as She drifted off to sleep. Somewhere in the innermost recesses of Her blackened mind, She had the most delicious thought.

Officer Withers would be returning soon. And she had the most delectable daughter...