The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“She thought she was safe, but then the killer popped up behind her, and buried the axe in her skull!” The short scrawny boy with bad hair and thick glasses screamed.

No one else screamed. The group of friends sat around in the half light of the living room just sitting there. “That was dumb,” one girl said.

“Yeah,” a tall broad boy agreed, “and how did the killer come back after getting decapitated?”

“He was immortal,” the boy with glasses stated.

“I agree with your friends,” a boy with a French accent said, “that was a dumb story.” The French boy sat in more darkness than the others, and looked like he should have been holding a smoke. “If it is terror you desire, I have a story,” he said.

“Does it take place in France?” A heavyset girl asked.

“Paris,” the French boy said.

“I’m game,” another girl said getting comfortable.

The French boy turned to his audience. “What I am about to tell you is one hundred percent true. This really did happen. If you look it up, as I did, you will find facts, but not what really happened. This is what really happened. It took place six years ago.”

There are parts of Paris many do not go to. These are the parts that are dark, are dangerous, and if one had a choice they would not stay. One such place is called Danube. Only the most desperate go there. Those like a young woman, a girl really, whom had nothing, but dreams.

She dreamed of being a fashion designer, and that is what she came to Paris from the countryside to become. However, before reaching one’s dreams, you first must start below, and so she obtained a position as assistant set builder at the Théâtre Paris-Villette. Not what she was going for, but it paid the bills. One of those bills was towards a small gray building, that had a small gray room in the area of Danube. The room was simple, a bed, a desk, and a closet. With a bathroom down the hall, there wasn’t much more to such a simple gray room, but it was all the woman could afford.

When she first looked at the room she did not open the closet, as if she had, she might have found other lodgings. Still, there was electricity, and heat, and the windows did open, so she paid for a month, and set out to try and make something of her life. With only a trunk of clothes she had little in the way of possessions, but what clothes she had with her, she wished to hang them in the closet. This was her first glimpse of the dark void within.

When she opened the door all she could see was darkness. There was no light, and what sunlight came in would not illuminate past the threshold. All there was, in that doorway, was darkness. Some say that if you stare into the void long enough the void stares back, but this was not the case. This was a black that had no equal. This was a void that sucked more than a black hole. All that was before that door was drawn in. If it wasn’t for the girl’s clothes that she was holding, dropping from her hand, and her feet getting tangled up, she would have become part of the void then. Quickly, with a prayer on her lips no doubt, she slammed that door shut.

Days passed, and the girl made friends, sent letters home, and found the start of a life. In those days she seemed to forget about what was in the closet, although, she did not open it. The gray room was getting color with wild flowers in empty wine bottles. There were curtains that added yellow and red. A rainbow bedspread made the room feel less gray. There was still something wrong with the room. It seemed to suck the light and life from the room at times. When the sun was down, and all the light came from one lamp on the desk, that closet seemed to breath in and out the darkness. With each passing breathe, from something with no lungs, some of the light would slip under the door, and be consumed by a never ending need within.

It was one day that the girl had finally made a dress that she had designed. It was red with gold in places, and white in others, and it gave a stunning elegance along with a wild ambition. She had made it to fit herself, and it fit like a second skin in places women should look feminine, but flared out where movement and fun were required. As much as she loved her dress, she did have a dirty job to do, so she had to put on a frumpy brown skirt and white top. The girl was quite proud of her dress, and wished to keep it clean and straight. She looked at the closet, and a cold chill, that had nothing to do with the frostiness of winter, slipped down her back. Rational thinking took over. After all, it was just a closet. A hole in the wall with a door. There couldn’t be anything in there.

With her prize dress in her hand the girl opened the door to the closet. There was no closet, only the void. There was no swirling, or pulsing. The was only darkness. A darkness that sucked in the light. A darkness that sucked in joy and happiness. A darkness that sucked in the spirit of what it means to be human. The girl stood before the wall of darkness as the light in her eyes was also drawn away. The darkness drew out of her more than just her light, but her soul, her mind, her essence. She didn’t notice as the spectacular red dress fell from her hand to land upon the floor between her and the door. She didn’t notice as the darkness extended.

Call it a tendril, or a tentacle, or even a pseudopod, but that darkness reached out for the girl. It wasn’t long, or thin, but it did stretch a line of darkness that made all under it blacker than anything had a right to be. The darkness was like part of the inside of a cave was cut out and was reaching for the girl. It reached between her legs, up under the dress. This tentacle moved with a slowness that made one think of an otherworldly sloth, that was composed of the absence of light. With her mind gone, with her will taken away, the girl stood there as the darkness went up between her legs. There was a moment where nothing happened. Then the girl started to rock back and forth. Her mouth hung open and drool rolled over her lower lip as the rocking and stroking caused by this darkness made her skin flush. She shuttered as the shade of night made her climax. Her body was acting on instinct rather than thought. She had no thought. She had no will. Her body had reached peek sexual pleasure, and she was not even aware of it.

The darkness slowly slid back into the closet. The murk of the void seemed to call to the girl, as drool flowed from her mouth, as juices flowed down her legs. Eyes rolled back into her head as she took a step forward into the blackness before her. If she had lifted her foot higher she might have walked into that murk then and there, but her beloved dress, and in particular the hanger it was on, caught her feet. She stumbled. A sharp crack of her head against the door to the closet seemed to break her out of the trance the void had put her in. She screamed and kicked the door shut. Part of a sleeve of her dress was caught between the door and the frame. When the terror died down and she was breathing normally again she looked at her dress, and the caught sleeve. A tug on the sleeve showed that the dress would not come free on its own. With two quick snips with a pair of scissors and she just left the part of the sleeve where it was. She hung up the dress on the outside of the closet, determined to never open that door again.

Days past, and the dress was mended, and the girl spent less and less time in her room. She was out, enjoying life, and wearing her dress wherever and whenever she could. Finally when she was out someone noticed her, and her clothes, and wanted them. A clothing designer spotted her, found out she had made the dress she was wearing, and on the spot did an interview. The next day there was a more formal interview, but that was just for paperwork. She had a new job, a better job, a job she wanted. She was to help design wedding dresses that people all over the world would buy. There would be more money, and she could leave that gray room. By this time she had two trunks worth of things to move to her new flat. She was ready to leave, almost.

Still caught in the door was part of her dress. She’d looked at it for days, and had even tugged on it to no avail. It was as if the void on the other side would not let go. Ready to depart, it was as if she would leave part of her in that gray room, and she had no desire to do so. She wanted to be free of that room, that closet, that life. With a determination that had defied past experiences, the girl was going to open the door to the closet, and get that last piece of herself.

She gripped what she could of that red dress sleeve, and quickly opened the door and pulled. The sleeve came freely into her hand. She stood up with a hand on the doorknob. She looked from the scrap of fabric in her hand and into the void. The shade of nothing that had no end. The blackness of darkness that had no equal. The sucking night that took all was an arm’s reach from her, and it took her. Her light went first, and then her mind. It was as if, now that the void had done so once before, it knew how to take her free will all the more quickly.

The girl stood there in her blouse and skirt, and stared at the nothingness that only took. It took her mind. It took her soul. It took her fear. It would take everything. Her eyes rolled back until only white showed. Another tentacle from the depths of darkness that should not be slid out again. It was as if there was nothing to stop the inky nothingness that reached for the girl. It had a taste of her, and it wanted more. With all that made the girl a true being had been pulled away, and now the void wanted only the flesh. A scalpel wouldn’t have been sharp enough to do what this shade did as it cut through the fabric that encased the girl. Her shirt fell away after a few deft cuts removed the covering. A simple slice and the skirt fell to the floor, spread out so nothing was between her and the void. Three quick slits and her brazier sprung back revealing teardrop breasts with small nipples. Two slices and the girl’s panties fell to the floor between her legs. A great clump of hair grew just above where her legs met. A rose ready to bloom hung below those dark curls. She had nothing between her and the void that consumed.

The false arm of the night in the closet slid over her body, as if blind, and needing to feel what was there. It passed over her nipples making them stand out hard against her flesh. Feeling, or at lease touching, her skin as the tendril snaked down her flat stomach to between her legs. Sliding under the hair, between her thin thighs, and into the middle of her rose, the girl felt nothing as her brain stopped making any desire or fear manifest. Sweat popped out on her forehead and body, as the shade stroked in and out of the unencumbered nether regions between her legs. Her knees bent, either lacking the ability to hold her straight, or giving the shadow better access is something only the almighty would know. Her mouth opened and hung slack as gasping for breath, drawing in ragged breath after ragged breath, was the only thing she did. Her eyes were still rolled back seeing the emptiness of her mind. She had no thought. She had no desires. She was only there to be consumed. The void was playing with its food. With a shuddering gasp the girl came. Fluid flowed out of her, and through the shadow that had violated her.

In time her breathing became normal. Her legs straightened again. Her eyes weren’t rolled back as far. She once more was just flesh, an unthinking animal that was only good for its meat. With her free will annihilated, and play time being over, the void drew her forward. Each step was agonizingly slow. With each step, a foot lifted, was put forward, and then the body followed, each one taking a full minute. Regardless in five minutes the nude girl reached the void. With no hesitation in her mindless husk of a body, she stepped into the everlasting night. She made no sound as her body, from small nipples to flat ass, was eaten up by the darkness. In seconds even the heel of her foot was gone. Then, even slower than her walk, the door to the closet closed. Centimeter by centimeter the door crept closed, and what power there was behind this even came to an end with the door latching itself shut.

The girl was never seen again. It took some time for someone to notice she was gone. Her trunks packed, and a pile of sliced up cloths in the middle of the floor. When the GN showed up to investigate they opened the closet door, and found nothing inside, but an ordinary empty closet. It was assumed that she got into some trouble living in Danube. Perhaps the stress of leaving one job for another, or one flat for another, caused her to break. However, you and I know the truth of what happened to that poor girl. The void was hungry.

The boy with glasses held up a finger and hesitated before asking the question, “How do you know all this?”

The French boy waved his hand as he said, “My uncle is a pervert and had a camera in her room. I watched the tape.”

The heavy set girl had her phone out and was tapping away as she asked, “When was this?”

“I saw the video last year,” The French boy said, “but the date stamp on the film was from six years ago.”

One of the other girls looked on as the heavy set girl tapped away. In seconds they both said, “Oh my God!” This caused everyone to crowd over and look at the small screen.

“Wait, so this actually happened?” Asked the tall broad boy.

“That,” the French boy said with a smile, “or my uncle was playing with video editing software. However ask yourself this, which is more likely; an otherworldly black void that mesmerizes people before eating them, or some young girl had a psychological snap and ran away? Still to this day if I can’t see the back of a closet because it is too dark, I close the door and find someplace else for my clothes.”