The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

(Part 3)

Nora can’t seem to get enough of the sweet ambrosia that drips from her stepdaughter Sophia’s pussy. The fact that it feels a little “wrong” appeals to her newly instilled rebellious attitude, for which Sophia was herself responsible, converting her stepmom from an exhibitionist into a wanton, pink-mohawked, pussy-licking punk.

For her part, Sophia is currently a equal mix of Heroine, Slut, Punk, Goddess, and Ditz. Combined, these aspects leave her in a clouded mindset that requires and rewards sexual worship, especially anything daring or kinky. The Heroine inside her still wants to thwart the evil doings of her villainous sister Mia, but she finds Nora’s constantly hungry tongue hard to abandon for any reason, especially since the orgasms only heighten the daze through which she views the world.

When Mia left the two, The Book of Phi Iota Mu in hand, she was looking for the ultimate place to unleash the book’s power upon women—someplace fun that would have the most impact where she could wreak the most havoc. She quickly stumbled upon a sign for a nearby Holiday Book Faire hosted at a high school gymnasium by the town’s Christian Mother’s group. Thinking there couldn’t be anything more appropriate, Mia finds herself looking down as its group of five upright members of the community put the finishing touches on their setup for the evening’s sale. She wonders how many of them will still be a part of the “cardigans and turtleneck” set when she’s through with them.

“Is this the book sale?” Mia asks, approaching the youngest of the group, Stella Flores. Stella is only in her twenties, not much older than Mia, but a good decade younger than the rest of her team. Her daughter is just turning two while the others have teens and the oldest is a grandmother even. Stella’s hair is dark and, coupled with her tan skin, she looks like she could be related to Mia, and maybe that’s why Mia singled her out first.

“Yes. We’re not quite open yet. Oh, were you interested in helping out?” Stella asks politely. Of course, everything about her reads “polite.” Mia gets the feeling that someone asked her to join this group and she was just too polite to decline.

“Maybe… first, could you tell me if you’d be able to sell this?”

Mia thrusts the book out toward Stella who reflexively grabs it. In her hands, the heft of the book pulls her down and into it. She finds herself opening it to a random page to read aloud, “The Succubus. To you, desire is an appetizer and sex is the main course. You could live without eating, possibly even breathing, but feasting on the sexual energy of others keeps you young, attractive, and vibrant. Feeding on that energy is pleasurable to all parties involved, though prolonged feedings may be hazardous to your food source. You view all people as a food source and, as such, beneath you.”

Mia makes a mental note to check back in on the woman after she’s made the rounds to see what kind of progress she’s made, imagining a much less passive and demure dame in her place.

Mia next spots Camila Morris, because of her unnaturally bright red hair. She notices that, despite the stodgy wardrobe, she can tell that Camila is tight and toned underneath and thinks that she’d make a great henchman. The reason behind that lovely form? Camila is a personal fitness trainer and she lives exactly as she preaches, eating healthy and spending hours each day contributing to the maintenance of a physically superior body. Seeing her as a somatic type, Mia tosses the book at her with the word “Catch.”

Camila easily makes the midair grab with one hand and, without losing a beat, opens the book and reads. “The Doll. Motion is overrated. You live a beautifully still life, but still manage to squeeze a lot of out of your day—usually from anyone who happens upon your always open, ready, and available holes. As such, people don’t think of you as a person so much as an object to be used and used… and used with complete disregard.”

Camila closes the book and manages to squeeze out a shocked “oh.” She doesn’t notice, at least not immediately, that her mouth never manages to close from that “oh” shape. Mia grabs the book from her still and outstretched arms and spots a busybody nearby.

The busybody in question, Anna Stewart, is a pretty, put together thirty-something with salon-styled hair. To Anna, this group is just a resume builder on her road to a position in local government. “Mayor Anna Stewart” just rolls off her tongue, behind in her affections only to “Governor Anna Stewart” and “President Anna Stewart.” Everything about her from posture to word choice is polished and Mia can read her just like a book.

“Excuse me, Miss —“

“Mrs., actually. Mrs. Anna Stewart,” she says extending her firm, but not too firm, practiced handshake out to Mia.

Mia shakes and talks. “Excellent, Anna. Can I call you Anna? Great. I was wondering if there was a place at the book faire for this…”

Mia places the Book of Phi Iota Mu down on the table in front of Anna.

“This looks a little older than what we’re planning on selling.”

“You wouldn’t judge a book by its cover, would you, Anna?”

Challenged, Anna takes the opportunity to open the book’s cover and finds herself reading from the page she opened to. “The Domestic. A throwback traditionalist, you believe a woman’s place is in the home, not the workforce. You excel at all sorts of household chores, ranging from cooking to cleaning to blowjobs. You have an extensive collection of toys and accessories because when the house is clean, and there’s a lot of time before you have to start dinner, you like to keep yourself happy and satisfied.” Anna closes the book and with a thoughtful “hmm,” her professional career-focused mind already clouding over with recipes, sewing patterns, and thoughts of going home to diddle herself with her favorite accessory after she’s finished all her chores.

“Hi,” comes from behind Mia. Naomi Edwards decided to approach her as she saw her making the rounds. “What do you got there?” Naomi points at the book.

“Honestly? It’s a book that transform the reader into whatever they read in it.”

Naomi laughs. It’s an easy laugh. She seems the most relaxed of the women Mia’s met so far. “Cool, just like one of those word boxes where you are the first three words you read.”

Mia extends a hand to this charming woman in her thirties with the dirty blonde hair and friendly eyes. “I’m Mia.”

“Naomi.”

“You know that’s I moan spelled backwards.”

“What?”

“Seeing if I can predict your future,” Mia says with a smile. If she weren’t a villain to her core, she’d probably leave this woman alone. Instead, she places the book in front of Naomi.

Naomi hovers a hand over the book and chants “Make me a billionaire” three times before she opens it to a page and reads, “The Psycho. Your love is obsessive and your grip on reality tenuous. You are paranoid and angry and angry that you’re paranoid. When you’re happy, you’re an absolute dream, but, as they say, happiness is fleeting and yours is especially so. You are not friends with any of your exes and they all have recurring nightmares starring you.”

“So, not a billionaire,” Mia says.

“Apparently not,” Naomi responds. “Oh well.”

“Thanks for playing,” Mia says.

“What’s that mean?” Naomi chirps back at her with a previously unheard darker tone carrying through her voice.

Mia sees the process starting and doesn’t want to get into it with some psycho. She snags the book and says as pleasantly as possible so as to not trigger anything, “Have a great day.”

The last of the quintet, Eleanor Parker, stands next to what once was Camila Morris with her hands on her hips. Camila has glazed over, all over in fact, but looks surprisingly lifelike. “Okay. Who did this?” Eleanor looks around but can’t, for the life of her, see how someone was able to sneak in something like a sex doll this sizable without her noticing. “Seriously. Who did this?”

Eleanor is a sixty year old, silver-haired, grandmother of three. She is the leader of the group and she rules with an iron fist. The fact that someone was able to sneak such a grotesque thing into her otherwise idyllic event is an unnecessary black mark and she wants to know who to pin the problem on and punish. She doesn’t know where Camila has gone (despite literally standing next to what once was her.) Stella is hunched over at her area, grabbing her stomach. Demerits later, Eleanor thinks. Naomi is yelling at someone into her phone. Even more demerits. At least Anna is tidying up her area with gusto. Finally, someone doing something right, Eleanor will have to give her some verbal encouragement later. And then Eleanor notices the random woman walking around with some comically old, large book. As the one person she doesn’t know, Eleanor immediately places the blame for the appearance of an oversized adult novelty on this women’s shoulders. It doesn’t hurt that the woman is dressed like a sensual wrongdoer.

“Did you do this?” Eleanor says, charging up to Mia, but pointing at the Camila doll.

“Yes, actually. She is my doing. You like?”

“You know children come to a book faire, right? CHILDREN!” Eleanor stomps. “And that book? What is that book?”

“It’s how I made all of this happen. Camila became a doll, Anna’s gone domestic, Naomi’s gone disturbed, and Stella’s looking increasingly hungry. What about you?”

“I’m mad.”

“Sure, but how about now?”

Mia pushes the book into Eleanor, who reads, “The Virgin. You are all things youthful and pure. You’re saving yourself for that special someone and when they come along, you will love them as best as you can… eventually surrendering your prized cherry to them. You will wear white, regardless of the season, for as long as your maidenhood remains intact.”

“Looks like you get another chance at life. Go figure. But white after Labor Day? Such a faux pas.”

Eleanor looks at the strange woman in black latex, confused.

Mia approaches Stella, still hunched over, clutching her stomach. When she’s just a few steps away, Stella stands and reveals some noticeable changes. Her skin tone has shifted away from a light brown to a more reddish hue. Her eyes are all pupil, giving them the appearance of almost all black. Her lips are naturally a deep, dark blood red. Seeing Mia, they curl up into a Cheshire grin, revealing white teeth with pronounced pointed canines. Standing, she gives off an aura of confidence.

“I have you to thank for freeing me, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like pleasure?”

“It’s a kind offer, and I’m tempted, but it seems like a risk I don’t need to take.”

“Pity…” Stella says and gestures downward. She’s wrapped in a thin black haze and for a moment, Mia can see her naked form underneath, perfect in every way, making her even more tempted. The black haze disperses leaving Stella clad in as little leather as possible to cover the bits deemed “inappropriate” for public display. However, her entire body is highlighted by the tight outfit, lifting and separating her breasts for presentation and skin tight on her ass to showcase its allure.

“You look good.”

“Change your mind?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else here to provide sustenance.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Naomi screams into her phone. “Bill. BILL! How do I know you’re home watching our kids and not with some side hussy? What do you mean where is this coming from? Don’t try to pin this on me. Don’t gaslight me, Bill. If you’re with our kids hand them the phone.” She listens, nodding. “Okay. Okay. I believe you. This time. Don’t think this gives you a free pass to do whatever you want behind my back. I’m watching you. I’m always watching you.”

Stella steps up to Naomi, touching her shoulder gently. “You sound frustrated,” Stella whispers into her left ear. “Let me help,” she whispers into her right ear.

Naomi turns around and finds Stella’s lips pressing against hers. Then, Stella’s tongue pressing against hers. Then, Stella’s body pressing against hers. It’s erotic and undeniable. Naomi takes a breath and whispers, “I’m going to go crazy on you.”

Stella smiles and whispers back, “I can handle it.”

Anna, having perfectly righted her table, sees a table across the room shaking and a few books falling to the gym floor. That sort of mess would give people the wrong impression. It would make people think that they don’t know how to keep a clean house. That wouldn’t do for Anna. Not at all. She steps up to the table, bends down to pick up the books, sees two bodies intertwined, and is then grabbed, pulled into them.

She musters “But there’s still cleaning to do…” before she surrenders to the immeasurable pleasure.

Young Laney Parker finds herself alone tending to the last touches on the Book Faire. She knows it’s sponsored by her town’s Christian Mother’s group and has no idea why she’s working it. While she lives her life as pure and positively as she can, which would be good motherly traits, she’s barely eighteen and quite the opposite of a mother. In fact, it would take something very Christmas-y indeed to bring a baby into her life… But that would require the presence of an angel, and how likely was that?

Mia walks away from the chaos even as the crowd starts to sprinkle in for the event’s opening. She thinks that this will, indeed, be a very interesting book fair. She’d love to stay and see, but her work is done and her imagination will be just as good, especially with the image of Stella’s naked body seared into her brain. Though, she does wonder what the product of the combination of a succubus and a virgin is. But it’s the holidays. It’s time for her to go home and check in on her family. That is what the holidays are all about, after all.