The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Shall we rejoin our friends, my Lord Airingford?” smiled Claire as we paused at the entrance to the ballroom.

“The gray” no longer clouded my thoughts, and I managed to ask, “Ummmm... Claire?” while still fighting the effects of Claire’s smoke, which were beginning to fade.

“Are you wondering if I know about what goes on in the ballroom? About the Hellions?” I told her yes, I did wonder about that, since she had been ensorcelled the last time she was there. I asked her what she remembered. She blushed furiously and cleared her throat. “Honestly, nothing after about three in the afternoon. I woke up on that altar, and I realized I had been... well... you know.” She looked away, face still red. “However, all the Airingford children are initiated into the Hellions on their twenty-first birthday, so yes, I know all about them. And now, I know what I did for the ritual because of the knowledge I gained through it, but I have no memory of having done any of it. If that makes any sense.” I nodded. “However,” she resumed, “I am left completely to my own devices in assuming the position of the White Queen, so I suppose I should get started.”

I opened the door and we walked into an orgy in full swing. The servant manning the door asked us if we needed to be introduced. Claire told him to wait until we had ascended to the dais at the front of the room where her mother was sitting, looking slightly apprehensive. When we arrived at the front table, his voice boomed, “The Lord and Lady Airingford! All hail the new Lord, all hail the new Lady!” I didn’t see that it had any effect on the orgy in progress.

Claire chanted something in a strange language, causing me to look strangely at her, and then she pronounced, “I am the White Queen of the Hellions and I command all to...” Her next word hit me with a physical force instead of being heard. My nuts twisted painfully, and cum dribbled through my flaccid cock, a quite painful experience— erections weren’t just an option, they were functionally designed to serve as conduits. As excruciating as it was, I could still recognize the sounds of dozens of simultaneous orgasms taking place within the banquet hall. As soon as my vision cleared, I realized that everyone in the room had been affected, save for Claire. Stephanie looked like she’d just been fucked—and was regarding Claire with fear. I hadn’t exactly expected her to show motherly pride, but—fear?

“Yes, mother, I know that the sexual spells available to the White Queen extend well beyond the trinkets you so favor,” said Claire. “Great-grandmother was a virtual fount of knowledge, and she was very detailed in the notes she left for me. She always hated father and your choice of him.” Stephanie opened her mouth, but Claire continued, “You’ve always been reluctant to use the more... direct spells.”

“But Claire—” Stephanie finally interjected.

“Don’t worry, mother, I haven’t looked in the books,” Claire replied, sounding slightly offended that her mother would even consider the possibility. “And I won’t. Just the concept scares me, as it should anyone with half a brain. Besides, I had to get everyone’s attention that the new White Queen has arrived, prepared to begin her own legacy, and I didn’t feel like waiting. That spell was the easiest way to interrupt the orgy.” Claire bowed her head, murmuring, “I’m sorry. I’m not as patient as you.” Stephanie waved her hand in absolution. Claire removed the holder from her purse, along with her cigarettes. “But rest assured that I do have a healthy regard for—tradition.”

She walked through the room, smoking through the holder, blowing smoke around all the Hellions—and the servants, issuing commands, and re-starting the orgy. Claire returned to the dais, the room full of her magical smoky haze. I was feeling the effects as well, although not in their full force, since she hadn’t dosed me directly. Any puzzlement I had at that became immaterial as Claire fitted another cigarette into the holder. “We will bring back some of those stylish American cigarettes when we go meet your family, won’t we?”

Smoke swirled around me, my dick grew to its porn star proportions, and I blankly answered, “Yes, milady,” a prisoner to the gray yet again.

“Mother, it is time for you to render your allegiance to the new White Queen,” Claire imperiously said, exhaling more smoke directly into Stephanie’s face. “Undress and kneel before me.”

“Yes... milady,” Stephanie replied, sinking to her knees as commanded.

“Now,” the new White Queen resumed, lifting her dress to reveal her pussy. “Lick, and lick well, and perhaps I may be—persuaded—to share my husband in the future. Would you like that, Ron?”

“Yes, milady.” The gray continued to fill my head, but, on some level, I could feel my own continued desire for Stephanie. I had finally removed my painfully restrictive pants, and my cock, feeling enormous, stood perpendicular from my body. It needed a home. Claire leaned back into her chair with a wicked smile, opened her mouth, and I began to fuck it.

“Slowly! Gently!” she gasped, and my hips automatically slowed. Claire started out teasing me with her blowjob, and I quickly became less important to her as her mother’s efforts began to affect her more strongly, until she came with a series of soft cries. Her eyes re-focused quickly, and she commanded Stephanie to lie on her back. She re-lit the cigarette, exhaled in my face, and sat on her mother’s face. “Fuck me, my Lord. Fuck me until you start to cum—and then I want you to finish your cum in my mother’s mouth.” I gave a little jerk of repulsion at Claire’s casual depravity... and then everything went gray. My cock strained a little more in response to the smoke, and I happily mounted the Lady Airingford from behind, straddling her mother’s head. Claire was already very wet and I slid into her easily, despite my supernaturally enhanced size. “Ohhhh... myyyyy Lord... Airingford!” she gasped. My dick sizzled inside her, making me moan loudly in pleasure. I started moving. “FUCK me!” Claire exhorted, and I was snorting with every thrust, accompanied by loud slurping sounds and the Lady Airingford’s high-pitched moans of rapture. Suddenly, the underside of my cock burned... once, twice, even more strongly the third time. For some reason, the movement within Claire stopped feeling so satisfying during my release. I withdrew, and thrust downward—into Stephanie’s welcoming mouth. My mother-in-law greedily sucked at the next explosion from my nuts, crying for more, and I obliged until I was completely drained, even beyond the reach of the family’s formidable sexual magic. I collapsed on the dais, panting, and my vision slowly focused enough to see Claire roll onto her back and guide her mother’s head between her legs to clean the still-visible mess I had left in the Lady Airingford’s pussy. I heard a wicked-sounding moan and a muffled one in answer. I watched, getting turned on despite the incestuous act and my feelings, but I was physically spent, and so could not respond to my own direct stimulation.

“My Lord... my lord, please wake up.” Claire’s soft, gentle entreaty made me open my eyes. We were the only people on the dais, and the orgy was still in progress. “Let us take our leave.” I asked how long I had been asleep. “Maybe ten minutes, give or take a half-hour. My mother is quite—skilled—so I may have lost track of time,” she grinned. “Not that you’d know anything about her ability to make you lose hours like that.” I blushed. “Help me up, please, Ron. My legs are still a little—wobbly.”

“Should we have our departure announced?”

“No... I’m not that much on ceremony. Let’s leave our guests to their fun. They’ll leave when the spell fades away,” Claire cavalierly replied. I took her arm, and we left the room, returning to our chambers, where she resumed, “Mother’s already asleep in her room. It’s the family curse. She’ll be subject to my command from now until her death, and in turn, you or I will eventually be subject to our eldest child’s command in the same manner.” Lady Airingford sighed. “But...that’s enough melancholy for now, Ron. I am quite fatigued, and would very much like to sleep with my fiancé.”

“So, when is the—official—wedding going to be?” I asked over a hearty English breakfast.

“Well, there are a lot of things that have to happen first,” Claire said. “After all, people do not go to Great Britain for a two-week vacation and come back married to someone they just met. We will need to court, although we aren’t royalty, so it can be done outside of the public eye and informally. I will, of course, need to visit you in the United States so that I can meet your parents and friends and such. And purchase American cigarettes... I do like their perception of stylish smoking. You will send me gifts from time to time until you move here permanently.” I told her of course I would. ‘But I do need to find out many things about you before you return to your home. Consider it as... a primer on Ronald Stone, if you will.”

We spent the day just—talking. At some point, I noticed that I had not seen Stephanie all day, which seemed odd. She had always been a part of Airingford Manor for my time there, and so her absence was noteworthy. “Mother is looking for a flat in London,” Claire explained. “Now that she is no longer the lady of the manor, she has a guest room for occasional nights, but no permanent place here. If she were to ask, of course I would give her living space, but—it just isn’t done. The former Lord or Lady Airingford has his or her own residence away from the manor. And the family is well off enough so that you will have a multitude of housing options available from which to select. My mother won’t be living in a low-rent section of London, I assure you.” She looked at me. “She could live in the highest, most fashionable area of the city if she cared, but knowing my mother, she will take two steps back and live comfortably, well within her means.” I asked about her being in London—although we were in a rural area relatively nearby, if that meant that Stephanie could choose not to participate in Hellion events. Claire shook her head. “It’s a—sacred—pardon the expression, commitment. Once bound to the magic, be it by blood, contract, or parentage, you remain so for life. Most, if not all Hellions consider it a very high form of service to mankind. The more there are to drain the magic, the less—activity necessary, and in turn, that reduces the chance of something going wrong.” She hesitated, looking unsure of what to say next “Errr... did my mother tell you—”

“—What was at stake?” Claire nodded, obviously relieved that she wouldn’t be the one to tell me. “That we, and the Hellions exist to keep venting the pressure on a giant boiling pot of evil for the remainder of eternity?”

“Yes,” Claire affirmed with definite strength in her voice, attesting to her conviction. “Occasionally, we must recruit new members for the cause and increase the number of Hellions. I don’t know if mother told you, but the artifacts have been slowly, but surely gaining strength over time, so that we have had to expand our little group.” I asked how often, not wanting to know the process. “According to my great-grandmother, we’ve been adding a new couple every thirty to forty years since she could remember,” she replied, “and that seems to suffice.” Reading the question on my face, she added, “You and I will have to seek a new couple within the next five to ten years... mother got lucky. She did not have to pick an unlucky pair.”

She didn’t use the sapphire on me all day, choosing to use it to command servants to do things they would have been doing anyway. “It’s gotta be discharged,” she shrugged. When it was time to retire for the evening, Claire pulled out one of the cigarette holders.

“Can’t we just do this normal?” I half-jokingly pleaded.

She smiled. “Sure we could! But I want everything you can possibly offer.”

“But you have no idea what it’s like without magic!” I protested, causing her to pause before lighting her cigarette. “I was told that I’m pretty good long before I even met the Airingford clan.” Claire regarded me with evaluation in her eyes, and asked about my size. I held my hands apart, and she moved them again to show the magical enhancement. I blinked in disbelief and my mouth hung open. Holy shit. No wonder I felt so big.

“Maybe—another time,” she grinned, clicking the lighter on and drawing long and smooth. Smoke filled my vision, and I felt my penis swell. “Just so you know, the magic insures that it will fit—but we can tell the difference.” Her grin grew wider.

Claire and I talked more the next day, learning about each other. Over dinner, she sighed, “Well, you’ve extended your vacation by three days, and I’m sure you can’t take an indefinite leave.” Three days? I told her that I thought I’d been at the manor for a week. She smiled, “A lot of the family magic innate to the manor involves—time. Specifically, slowing time in and around the manor.” I was aghast. “So, in here, it’s been almost six days, while out there, it’s only been three. I can only imagine the uses to which Morgan Le Fay put that,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. I asked about going back home. “Martin has been packing your things, and your return ticket is booked for tomorrow’s afternoon flight—first class of course.” I gave her a funny look, and she added, “As of now, Ron you have no fiscal worries for the rest of your life.”

I was still taking stock of everything she had said, particularly the last part. I wasn’t extravagant by nature, my wants had always been modest, except for the dream about London—which had turned into an object lesson in being careful what you wish for. What would I do with seemingly unlimited financial resources? The student loan was history. My small credit card balance was done. Maybe a new car—no, I’d be moving to Great Britain at some point this next year, so my old Toyota was going to be fine for when I was back in the U.S. “So, how are you going to introduce me to your family?” bubbled my future fiancée, plopping onto the bed next to me.

“I expect that I’ll tell them I met a girl while I was on vacation,” I replied with a grin.

“I suppose that I’ll have to take a trip to the United States in the next month—so that I may appear suitably—interested,” she clipped. I looked at her with an answering grin that slowly faded as I looked into her blue eyes and beautiful face, my gaze becoming one of infatuation. Her eyes lidded slightly; and then we were kissing. I began to remove her clothes when we came up for air, my dick expanding without smoke. Claire was panting softly, the flush appearing above her full, round breasts. “I won’t be seeing my fiancé for another three weeks,” she sighed as I played with a nipple. “How do you think we should we spend our final evening together?” It was a purely rhetorical question as she reached for my cock. “That’s wonderful!” she softly exclaimed. “You weren’t joking about your natural state, were you?” And that was the last coherent thing she was able to say because I climbed on top of her, and slid my dick into her wet, warm, wonderfulness.

“So let me get this straight... you went to London on your Uncle Leonard’s money and you met a girl? I mean, you met a girl,” snapped my mother. “Figures. Leonard and women. I knew that money was going to get you into trouble. What does she want? Is she pregnant?”

“Leona!” boomed my father, coming to his brother’s (and my) defense. “I can’t believe you would have the nerve to—”

“James, you know what your brother was like,” my mother immediately interrupted.

“Yes,” Dad rejoined, “but I didn’t think you had such little faith in the way you raised your son.” That effectively ended my mother’s Uncle Leonard rant. “London is a long way away from here, son. Are you sure that she’s as interested in you as you seem to be in her?”

Claire would have been pleased at my ability to read my father’s mind; this was exactly the question around which our strategy was formed. “She’ll be coming to the United States for a visit in three weeks. Meeting me just changed her itinerary a little.”

“She’s not one of those—looking to marry an American for citizenship, is she?” my mother asked, looking worried. “And are you sure she’s not trying to take—advantage—of you?”

“I’d be more worried on her side—she’s a Lady.”

My brother chose that moment to appear, sniggering, ‘I’d hope so. I’d hate to think that you were suckered into marrying a dude who just looks like one.”

Mom shushed him with a look. “A—Lady? Royalty?” I explained that the title was because of her family’s wealth and lands, and not on any royal relationship. I also told her that I’d been to her home, and that it made the houses in Walnut Hill look puny, not merely small. “So you’re telling me that she doesn’t want you for your money, or the opportunity to become an American.” I nodded. “So what’s her name? Will you have to hire a butler and a cook for dinner? Is she going to stay at your tiny apartment when she gets here?” She sighed in resignation. “You know that’s what she’s used to, right? Will the reality of you and your family ruin this fantasy you both have?” I gave her a funny look. “I’m still your mother, and I will worry about your happiness until the day I die, Ronald, so do not give me that look. I mean, how can you afford the engagement ring?”

“Her name is Claire,” I answered. “She’ll be staying at the Four Seasons while she’s here. Since we aren’t formally engaged, it wouldn’t be—proper—for us to spend the night together.”

I got a sinking feeling that my mother had already dug her heels in on this when she went into the kitchen fuming just loud enough so that I would be sure to hear every word. “Now everything has to be proper. Our son’s apartment isn’t good enough for this lady. Her fancy snooty-pants ladyship has to stay in the poshest hotel in town. She’s probably rented out the top floor to stay. Well, if she thinks that she’s going to fool around with my son’s heart...”

I sighed, and followed her into the kitchen to plead my case. “She’s dying to meet you, so she wants to take us all out to dinner. Including Art,” I said, indicating my brother. “Claire is worried that you won’t like her at all.”

“Even if I don’t, and as much as I hate it, it’s not mine to judge,” she clipped, her tone of voice indicating that she didn’t like the concept of Claire at all, and that she did think it was hers to judge. “I’ll behave, and I’ll make sure your father and Arthur do as well.” My dad shrugged as if to say, “I’m not going to be the problem here.” The stage was now set. Claire would be arriving in a month, and... I realized that I missed her... if not the magic.

I met her at the airport when she arrived, having spent the first two weeks on the East and West Coasts. “Is your family suitably nervous and worried about my wealth?” I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Well, I’ve done my best to put the trappings of wealth away for the duration. Hopefully that will put them at ease.”

She didn’t seem nervous at the dinner, handling my mother’s interrogation with a sense of humor and her cultured good nature. “I know that this is sudden, Mrs. Stone,” Claire admitted, “but Ronald and I hit it off so well that the Atlantic Ocean is not an obstacle.”

My mom fretted about my being stranded after a fight. “He’s an unemployed high school teacher... that does not pay well in the United States, even if you are working. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to afford you—sorry dear, but it’s true.”

Claire looked surprised at that, my brother grinned stupidly, and my dad looked ill. “Mrs. Stone, if I were only interested in rich Brits,” Claire evenly began, “my mother would be most distressed, and accuse me of being a snob.”

“Well i certainly don’t think you’re a snob, but my Ronald is not a toy for some rich girl’s entertainment. They call it ‘slumming’ in America.”

I couldn’t believe she had said that. I knew she was overprotective, but this was worse than anything she’d ever done. I needn’t have worried; in retrospect, I should have expected Claire’s next move. “Mr. and Mrs. Stone; Arthur: you will be very happy for Ron that he has found someone very special, who feels the same way about him. Her social station and wealth mean nothing. The only thing that is important is that you are positive that they were made for each other, and you know, deep in your hearts, that they will be incredibly happy together for the rest of their lives. You will dedicate yourselves to insuring that happens.”

“Yes, milady,” all three of my relatives replied. It was a little weird to see my family controlled, but it was weirder that I didn’t feel like intervening on their behalf. My future wife smiled, while running her fingers over her magical family heirloom.

Dinner went very nicely from that point, with my mother showing great interest in Claire’s title and family history, and apologizing for our lack of similar status. “That’s all right,” replied Claire, “Ron is as dashing and intriguing as any prince. I think that I am lucky to have found him.”

After dinner, I rode with Claire back to her hotel, where she announced that she would rather spend the night at my place than in a “stuffy hotel.” She packed an overnight bag, and we took a taxi to my apartment, propriety be damned.

“So, you will be coming to visit the manor at the end of the month, correct?”

“Yes, milady,” I jokingly said, not under the influence of the sapphire. “Now that my mother isn’t worrying me to get a job for the next school term, I think I can contact the family’s travel agent and make those arrangements. Did you get those American cigarettes you were wanting?”

“Yes!” she smiled as she kissed me. “And I’ll have an order for you to bring me as well—as soon as I decide which I like best!” Claire swung herself in front of me. “You know, I really do miss you,” she tenderly resumed. “Ron, it’s not just the sex—after all, we both know that I can get that whenever I want it. However, that comment I made to your mother about you being dashing and intriguing was not just for show. There’s something about you that I can’t quite define, but it makes me want to be with you.”

“I think the term is ‘All-American good guy,’” I replied, only half-jokingly. “American women crave danger—and that’s not me. I have had many female friends comment on my ‘safety.’ You, on the other hand... I’m different enough to be interesting, and yet mild-mannered polite enough for the Cultured British Lady in you to be comfortable with me.”

“Mr. All-American good guy, my love, I will see you in three weeks at Airingford Manor. I hope that you will consider evolving into an all-British Empire good guy,” she smiled, kissed me, and turned to enter the security line.

“Hello, your lordship, nice to see you again at the manor,” said Charles as I returned to my soon-to-be permanent residence. “Her ladyship is in the kitchen,” he resumed before leaning to me and with a wry smile, whispered, “she has insisted on cooking for you tonight. She seems to want to impress you. Fancy that.”

The next evening, we attended our first social event together at a small museum in London, and the next morning I was amused to read that Miss Claire Airingford attended, “accompanied by a young man, in whom she showed very apparent interest.” I guessed that officially made us an item. “So when is our next social event?” I jokingly asked.

She smiled and said, “You are at leisure until Friday evening dinner, Lord Airingford, when the Hellions will assemble to welcome your return. The social circle in which we travel is quite dormant at the moment.” She lit a More and resumed, “Pity. I would have preferred that we had enough events for it to not seem so—precipitous were you to declare your intentions towards me, and for me to affirm that our interest was mutual.”

“That’s not an engagement, right?”

“No,” confirmed Claire. “That essentially says that we will be engaged within six months, and married within the following year. It’s a slow process. Although I’m not royalty, being the Lady Airingford, I can’t just have you declare our engagement any sooner. “As much as I would like to, eloping to Las Vegas is not an option.” She stretched and placed her half-finished cigarette into a holder. “However,” she impishly smiled, “I don’t necessarily have to wait for the—benefits—of marriage.” Perching seductively on the side of the bed, she drew on the holder, and I hardened. “Come, my Lord Airingford, it is time to enjoy your wife-to-be. Yet again.”

Claire was looking at me with a smile of sexual contentment as she lit another More, without the holder. “Oh, no, Ron,” she giggled in response to my quizzical glance. “My appetites do have their limit.” She sighed. “I suppose we should eat something—else. I’m calling the kitchen for a hearty, if late, meal. Someone has sated one, and given me another.” I blew her a kiss and went to clean up so that I would be somewhat presentable for the staff.

I took a long shower; the hot water felt very good on my body. My muscles were feeling a little tired and sore, although given the amount of sex I’d been having, I shouldn’t have been able to move at all. I chalked it up to the enchantment, reasoning that if deviant sex was the outlet for the object so-called evil magic, it couldn’t very well kill them while they were serving it—no sex, no perversity, no evil magic worked. A quasi-familiar voice filtered through the bathroom door as I was finishing up. I stepped back into the suite wearing a robe. “Ah, excellent timing Ron! Brunch has arrived,” softly exclaimed Claire at my appearance.

The slender red-haired servant who had apparently brought our brunch looked up suddenly, gaping at me. It only took a moment to recognize who she was. “Hello, Hannah,” I smiled, remembering her as she was just before I had fucked her into a deathly still, pale, unresponsive coma-like state. “I’m happy to see you well—”

She sank to her knees, her face losing all expression, breathing, “I must obey my master,” as she blankly stared at me, transfixed. I blinked and looked at Claire, who slowly shook her head in response, looking as amazed as I felt. Hannah remained kneeling, looking (?) at me. It was very disconcerting, so I politely asked her to stand up. “Yes... master,” she replied in an even more disconcerting monotone.

“Hannah,” I said, trying not to sound as panicked as I was beginning to feel, “please, resume as you were before you saw me.”

“Yes... master,” was her response, and immediately thereafter, she blinked, turned to Claire, and said, will that be all, milady?” Claire replied with a very distracted-sounding, “yes.” Hannah turned to me and began, “Good day—” but on regarding me, she once again sank to her knees, and blankly said, “I am yours to command, master.” I immediately stepped back into the bathroom, gave my previous command again, and waited until I heard Claire dismiss her and the door had closed.

“What was that?”

“I’m just as puzzled as you are, Claire.” She asked me about any magical artifacts I might have stumbled upon, but I couldn’t think of anything I’d had on me that I hadn’t arrived at the manor with—other than her. She wondered aloud how I knew Hannah in the first place. After I had finished blushing, I told her about my first night as head of the Hellions, which drew a lewd grin from her, until I got to the part about what happened to Hannah.

“So she passed out?” Claire gasped. “And they had to carry her away?” I nodded, and she went quiet for a while. “What did my—mother— tell you?” I couldn’t think of anything other than the sincere envy in her voice, and among the other women in the room. “Hmph,” she finally huffed. “Remind me never to smoke that much around you. I don’t think I like the idea of being a mindless slave. Commanding mindless slaves, yes. Going mindless at the mere sight of you—that’s not for me. Going insanely horny at the sight of you... is much more to my liking.”

“Can we have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a come-on? Even as enticing and exciting as you make it sound?” I half-jokingly asked.

“Is that a complaint?” Claire smiled, before reaching for her pendant. “Either you come willingly...”

“Uh-uh... Don’t want to lose your mind,” I smiled, wiggling my finger at her.

Claire pouted, and put the magic bauble away. “Now I have to behave like a normal woman in a boringly normal upper-class British relationship instead of the sexually ravenous and dynamic White Queen of the Hellions.” I reminded her that the time for that would soon arrive, and she smiled, a feral one that excited me. “Yes, well, there is that.”