The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Charlene looked at the card one more time. It read “These white arrows shall cause whomever they strike to obey thee without question.” It was unsigned, and the person who had written it was right-handed, but had written the note with his left hand, and in crayon. It was hard to trust someone who did things like that. They were usually sickos. Still, one arrow in the butt wouldn’t kill anyone, and if she was quick, she probably wouldn’t even get caught. She found a cute guy standing alone, and she loaded one arrow into the crossbow she had bought at the sporting goods store. She took aim and pulled the trigger. The arrow disappeared into the flesh of the man’s backside as though it had never existed. Quickly, she ran up to the guy and touched him on the shoulder. No response.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“My name is Alan, Mistress.” the man replied.

“Why did you call me Mistress?” Charlene asked.

“Because I obey you, Mistress. I am your slave. I will obey your every order without question.” Charlene was suddenly very turned on. The arrows did work.

“Come with me.” she said, and he followed her to a secluded place in the bushes. “Strip me.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Alan said, and began to remove Charlene’s clothes.

“Strip yourself.” she said, and Alan obeyed. His penis was depressingly soft. “Get hard.” she commanded, and his penis obediently inflated. “Lie down.” Alan lay down on the grass, face up, his penis pointing to the sky. Making sure no one was watching, she mounted on top of him and began slowly pumping herself up and down. Apparently the arrow forced him to come simultaneously with her, for when she came, he shot his juice into her. “Fuck me from behind.” she ordered, and Alan obediently did just that. “Keep going until I tell you to stop!” she commanded, and Alan obeyed. Charlene came again and again. The pleasure became so great she almost couldn’t get out the word “stop,” but she did. “Wow.” she muttered, too low for Alan to hear her. “With these, I could have any man I wanted.” As sleep slowly stole over her, she wondered how long the arrow’s effects would last.

Across town, Ian Bradley had gotten the same kind of arrows with the same card. Just like Charlene, he didn’t trust the crayon-scrawled handwriting, but figured one test wouldn’t hurt. He shot an arrow into the left cheek of a cute blonde who was about two years older than he was. Finding her completely obedient, he loaded her into his car. Once he was in the privacy of his own condo, he stripped his new toy and lay her on the bed. He broke her cherry and fucked her until he wore himself out. After a rest, he had her suck his cock. When he was through with that, he got her in the ass. She was the perfect mindless sex zombie. He didn’t bother to ask her name. He simply renamed her Fuckdoll #1. Soon there would be many more.

Shane Gray followed his client into the condo. The timing couldn’t have been better. His client’s wife came out of the kitchen just then. With the mysterious grey arrows hidden in his coat, he introduced himself to the woman. She turned to her husband, and they began yet another arguement about bringing strangers in unannounced. Her back was to him. He drew one of the arrows. Not having a bow on his person, he simply threw it like a dart. It disappeared into her back. The woman was instantly submissive, and backed down, just as she would back down and surrender in all arguements from then on. To Shane, ten thousand dollars seemed way too light a price for the use of one of the seven mind-altering darts he’d been given by the mysterious person who wrote with his bad hand in crayon, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that he’d almost cleaned the guy out. Besides, there was the second facet of the payment.

“Honey, I want you to give Shane a blowjob.” his client said.

“What? But why?”

“Because I promised him you would, you sexy little thing. Do it because you feel so submissive that you can’t resist.”

“Alright, honey.” the woman said. She turned to face shane, got down on her knees, and unzipped his pants. She was good. Apparently she had practiced early in the relationship, back when there was still some of the old “magic” there.

“In other news, a man with a bow has somehow sparked a race riot in downtown Manhattan today. No trace of the so-called ‘crimson arrows’ he is said to be using have been found.” the TV reporter said. “Similar incidents involving people shooting at white-robed Klan members with yellow arrows have sent the Klan into hiding. Also, a group of blue arrows was fired at the defense attourney in the case of suspected child molester Delbert Armstrong. The attourney lost the case, but claimed that he only lost because the arrows rendered him incapable of any falsehood.” Billy Keller turned off the TV. So it wasn’t just him who had gotten mysterious arrows from this weird arrowsmith who wrote in crayon. Fascinating.

“Billy, honey, why did you turn off the TV? All these people being shot by arrows and all, don’t you think that’s kinda weird?” said a large-breasted brunette.

“So a bunch of weirdos decide that the gun has taken all the sport out of attempted murder, so what?” Billy said.

“You’re so right, Billy, lover.” said a redhead, who also had rather large breasts.

“Billy, you’re so sexy when you’re domaneering!” sighed a second blonde, who had once been a porn star in one of the movies Billy had frequented.

“Oh, Billy, just let me hear ya sexy voice one more time, I think I’m goin’ ta come!” moaned a lovely Irish girl. Billy looked with pride on his harem, consisting of four gorgeous young ladies, whom he’d shot with four of the mysterious pink arrows he’d gotten from the arrowsmith.

“Not without me, you’re not, Maven!” Billy said, pouncing on his highly-aroused Irish girl. He inserted his prick in her, and she came, but he fucked her until he wore himself out. That didn’t stop the two blondes from going for oral sex with him. The first one took up a position at his mouth, while the other one proceeded to suck his cock. He fingered the other two while he worked and was worked on. The blonde at his prick fingered herself. The orgasms were not simultaneous, but they were close enough that everyone was satisfied. And to think, he still had eight more arrows left. He could have more women if he wanted. Not now, though.

Puck sighed to himself. Apparently these mortals didn’t have much imagination, or at least most of them didn’t. Obtaining the quiver full of pink arrows had given Kyle Peterson the guts to condition four homeless women into his slaves, but he hadn’t used the arrows yet. He had used Chinese “pleasure spheres,” vibrators, submiminal tapes, nipple clamps, gravity cuffs, and various suggestion-enhancement drugs. The quiver still hung unused on a peg on his wall, but he only kept it as a backup in case his programming failed. Perhaps he should have warned the young man that the magic won’t last forever. Dianna and Cathy knelt side-by-side on the carpeted floor, thinking of nothing, just as he’d instructed. They were good slaves. He walked over and whispered in Cathy’s ear.

“Cathy, come over to the bed.” Cathy got up and walked to the foot of the bed. Puck moved her around to one side and draped her over the bed. He penetrated her from behind.

“Cathy, you remember those oaths I made you memorize?”

“Yes, Master.” Cathy said.

“Recite them for me, would you?”

“Yes, Master.” Cathy said. “I am your slave and yours alone. Your voice is all I hear, except when I need to hear something else in order to do your bidding. My body is yours to fuck. My mind is yours to alter. My heart is yours to break or mend as you see fit. I will wear only what you wish me to wear. I will say only what you wish me to say. I am your eternal servant.”

“Good girl.” Puck said, and proceeded to take pleasure in her body. She moaned as his penis moved into and out of her womb, then screamed when orgasm made her go rigid.

“You’re a good slave, Cathy.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Cupid glowered at the crystal ball held in the severed talon of a gargoyle. He had seen enough, as had Oberon, who sat across from him as they glowered together.

“Robin Goodfellow must be brought to justice, Lord Oberon.” Cupid said. “These corrupted arrows of his are wreaking havoc throughout the Earth Realm.”

“Indeed.” Oberon replied. “Very well, we shall summon him.”

Puck lay happily between his two slaves. What could be better? Suddenly he felt a strange tingling as he began to dematerialize. The next thing he saw was the High Courtroom of Avalon. He quickly kenned some clothing.

“What’s the big idea, calling me to court in the middle of the night when I’m not decent?” Puck asked.

“When are you ever decent, trickster?” Oberon asked. “For I see that trickster is what you ever have been, even when you were thought Cherub-converted.”

“What else can I be but true to my nature, Lord Oberon?” Puck asked.

“Silence!” Oberon snarled. “You have been summoned here on charges of corrupting the nature of Cupid’s arrows, enslaving mortals against their will, making mindslaves of thine own siblings, namely the Weird Sisters, and causing chaos of a sexual nature throughout the Earth Realm. Also, we have learned that you used the magic of the arrows against your own Father and Mother, myself, your Lord Oberon, and our Queen Titania. How do you plead, trickster?”

“Not guilty, Lord Oberon.” Puck said. Oberon glowered down on the Elf. “Might I speak in my own defense?”

“Proceed, trickster.”

“Firstly, my Lord, I have NOT corrupted Cupid’s arrows. First of all, because I myself made those arrows with mine own hands, Sire, and not a drop of that pink freak’s sweat nor blood did ever adourn neither shaft nor head nor feather.”

“The design of the arrows was Cupid’s doing.” Oberon retorted.

“Cupid is known for inventing the Pink Arrow of Love, not the Crimson Arrow of Rage, the White Arrow of Blind Obedience, the Yellow Arrow of Fear, the Grey Arrow of Submissiveness, nor...any of the other non-pink arrows. To say that I corrupted Cupid’s arrows would be like saying that Smith and Wesson corrupted gunpowder. And the arrows are not evil by nature. Timed correctly, the Red Arrow can bring about much-needed justice, the Grey Arrow can cow unrighteous resistance, the Yellow can stop stupid people from doing stupid things, and the White Arrow...” He paused, trying to think of a virtuous use of the White Arrow. “...The White Arrow can be used as a nonlethal tool of vengeance agaist someone who has caused you great torture, just as the Weird Sisters did to me.”

“Your remarks are noted, and I will deliberate on them when the opening arguements are completed.” Oberon said. “Continue.”

“On the part of the Weird Sisters, I claim Right of Vengeance. It was they that delivered me into the hellish grasp of the Pink Freak.”

“And what of Odin, who was also one of thy escorts?”

“You mean you haven’t seen him yet?” Puck asked. “Alright, on that count, I do admit I overdid it a bit with...almost a full quiver of pinks while he was looking in the mirror, but that was also revenge.”

“Bring Odin here.” Oberon told Hera, who bowed then disappeared. Two minutes later, the still-masturbating Odin was delivered to the courtroom. His penis was red and he was spewing blood with each jerk, but he couldn’t stop.

“Shall I remedy this, Sire?” Puck asked.

“Indeed.” Oberon replied. Puck muttered a quick spell, and Odin stopped. Healing spells were administered by Mab, Mustardseed and Flora.

“Continue, trickster.” Oberon said.

“Yes, Sire. As for the thing about enslaving mortals against their will, I was only doing what I thought best at the time.”

“Explain.” Oberon said.

“Dianna was stuck in a relationship with an abusive boyfriend who wouldn’t go away. I believed that she would be safest if I brought her under my protection. Cathy didn’t have anybody. She was just a hooker, but I broke up that corrupt organization, then, realizing that I had just sent one more outcast into the world, I decided to take her under my wing as well to make amends for putting her in a most unenviable position, and now they’re both happier than they’ve ever been—or at least they were until you spirited me away. They’re most dependent on me for guidance, you know. And as for the charge of causing chaos of a sexual nature in the Earth Realm, I did no such thing. I made people happy. That’s all. No one became miserable because of what I did. Charlie would still be a miserable, lonely wreck without Sandy, Officer Webster and Ms. Harcrow are no longer afraid to try new things, and are experimenting with threesomes and having o-so much fun, and were it not for my Rage Arrows, poor Karl and Shanna Jones would be dead in a ditch somewhere, instead of in their warm, relatively safe beds in police safehouses where they won’t have to worry about being killed by the KKK, a wretchedly evil organization by its very nature. Causing its would-be victims to kill KKK members only lessens the darkness over that dreary world.”

“And the final charge; using the magic of the arrows against myself and Lady Titania.”

“My Lord, I had only Avalon’s best interests in mind when I did that! You had been fighting over something, and another divorce seemed imminent. I only acted on instinct using Cupid’s arrows to try to stop a royal calamity!” Puck said.

“Is that all?” Oberon asked.

“I...I think so, Sire.”

“Let the record show that the defense has rested.” Oberon said. Puck had a bad feeling about this. “Puck, you claim sole responsibility for the creation of these alternate arrows?”

“Yes, Sire.” Puck replied.

“So be it. The patent for these alternate arrows goes to you, then, Robin Goodfellow, as does responsibility for the...market research.” Puck gupled. “Robin Goodfellow, this court recognizes the just uses of all of your alternate creations except one. The White Arrows must all be destroyed, and their victims liberated. Henceforth you will clear all future alter-arrows with me or Cupid before testing them in the field. The arrows are dangerous in mortal hands, however, and must never fall there again. The arrows you distributed to the mortal population must be reclaimed as soon as possible. Since you have provided what you believe to be the best situation possible to your two slaves, you may keep them. I see no reason to undo the effects of arrow-usage on anyone not victimized by White Arrows except for the victims of Shane Gray, who has attempted to capitalize on Elven works, a direly illegal act. You must also use your Trickster cleverness to concoct a suitable punishment for him. As for Cupid’s wish to charge you with malicious mischief while still an apprentice, I contend that you were simply following your nature. The case of the Comedy of Arrows is closed. I have spoken. All depart.” The Elves in the gallery teleported away, as did Odin and Titania. That left Puck, Oberon and Cupid. The pink freak hovered before the trickster.

“Well, Journeyman, you’ve certainly gotten off easy. I would have had you share the fate of Tantillus.” Cupid said. “Still, except for the Whites, you make good arrows. Just be careful how you use them in the future, understood, Journeyman?”

“Got it.” Puck replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Oberon has decreed that I do some things, and I think it best they be done immediately.”

“Indeed.” Oberon said. “One final thing, young Puck.” What Puck hearing right? Had Oberon actually called him Puck, not by his birth name?

“Yes, Sire?”

“I see that you do not lead a life of leisure.” Oberon said. “A trickster’s work is just as hard as that of an arrowsmith, if not harder. Your duty is to make punishments fit the crimes, to time happenings just right so they are humorous or appropriate, to aid the work of Karma and interpret the laws of nature as loosely as possible to teach authoritarian rulers such as myself that sometimes decrees must be carefully worded. I decree that you shall continue in that work, using your skills as an arrowsmith to aid in its execution.”

“With pleasure, Sire.” Puck said. With a snap of the King’s fingers, Dianna and Cathy were at Puck’s side.

“Go now, and to thine own self be true.”