The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The mother smiled with satisfaction. Her flesh-servants lay draped around her, naked skin glistening in the candlelight as they gently heaved with pleasure. They were soulless, obedient flesh. Their entire beings were devoted to her. They felt neither pity, nor shame, nor love. They would eagerly kill and rape in her name, and get off from it. The pathetic human beings that had once inhabited those bodies were dead; all that remained was the evil that lived in every man and woman’s heart—no longer caged and shackled by the filthy divine spark that was called the soul.

They were glorious. She had ripped out that pathetic lie from their hearts, and freed them from their weakness. Soon, the whole world would finally become what it had to become. Soon, everyone would taste the wonderful freedom that she had already gifted Ana and Ellie and Leah and Jeanne. It had started with them. It had started with Her!

For a short moment she remembered the lives she had lived, and it already felt like it had never happened. It certainly hadn’t mattered. Nothing about her worthless lives had ever been worth giving a shit about. Her job, her future, her friends, her family. Sam’s dad. Mina’s wife. Jordan’s sisters. All that love, all that attachment, all that anxiety. Fucking pathetic. She was so glad to be forever done with it.

She commanded her serving flesh to follow as she ascended into the university library. The sun had already set, but the day was far from over. They strode past the discarded corpses of the last of those that had dared to oppose her, and out of the building. She felt the air tingling with Order magic as they walked down the steps of the library. The rain had stopped, and there were people standing in the grass, their minds caught in the magic that Ana had woven around the library in the moments after she had killed her Mentor and surrogate father. It was still holding strong. There were some newly-arrived police officers outside, and students, as well as people who had just been passing by. The magic had drawn them in, and taken hold of their minds, and subdued them. They were standing on the library front lawn now, still as statues, their eyes looking at nothing. Whoever got close enough to witness what was happening was themselves drawn into their trap.

They walked among their prey, and the Mother smiled hungrily. They’d been so incredibly lucky—but that was the nature of the Mother’s power. Her power. She ruled chaos, both in the world and in the hearts of the people that lived in it. Still it had been a narrow victory. But a victory nonetheless. Not only had they defeated the Order, but they had also claimed their supernatural power.

The stars, truly, had aligned.

Her flesh-servants watched raptly with hands between their folds as she claimed the men and women around them, pressing her dark lips against them and consuming their souls. After overcoming the fortified minds of the servants of the Order, claiming the flesh of mere mortals was almost too fucking easy.

As she approached her next victim, she smiled. It was a young woman; early twenties, wool sweater, blonde hair done up in a bad-hair-day-bun. She recognized her, and she remembered being Sam and talking to her as they waited for their first lesson in Russian Theater to start. She remembered meeting with her to study ‘The Seagull’ and doing a couple of stage readings—Sam had read Madame Arkadin. She remembered how they’d done a presentation together. She remembered going out with her for a drink later that evening. She remembered the moment she had told Sam about her boyfriend. She remembered how Sam’s heart had broken.

Pathetic.

“Hello, Maya,” the Mother said with a wicked smile and stepped forward to claim the young woman’s soul. As she pressed her lips against hers, she appreciated the utter absence of hesitation and compassion in her heart. Thinking about how pathetic she used to be just made her hot and wet now. The act of remembering her worthless lives and feeling nothing but cruel satisfaction in their destruction was almost like killing them once more, burying them even deeper, undoing them even more absolutely. That realization felt like one of Jordan’s thoughts, but it was beginning to be hard to tell. Her memories were clear and distinct, but her minds were one and the same now.

Dark liquid filled her mouth, and it tasted sweet and bright. She swallowed it down, and notes of ambitious dreams, perfectionism and self-doubt billowed through her senses as she ripped all of it out of Maya and consumed her soul.

Yes, she thought, as she felt her darkness spill over into the newly-created void at the young woman’s core, filling her up and awakening her to the resonance.

None of me wanted this. She remembered Jordan and Mina and Sam’s lives, and let the memory run across her wet cunt. She remembered what she used to be, and her dead heart simmered with infinite contempt. Yesss, she thought, as all three of them. They’re gone! They’re dead! Three dead black hearts beat in her chest in mutual agreement and blistering satisfaction, all of them glad that they had died.

In front of her black eyes, Maya’s face became alive with wicked satisfaction, and the young woman’s eyes burned with soulless purpose. “Yesss, I am willing flesh,” she hissed, and the Mother could feel the resonance at the core of Maya’s corrupted body, owning everything that she was after it had killed everything she used to be. She could feel how Maya’s cunt was soaking her panties. She nodded in approval, smiling at the woman whose soul she had destroyed, earning a groan of pleasure from her.

Still thinking about your boyfriend now?, she thought, and chuckled. Then, she moved on to her next victim. She would have Maya later.

The next soul she killed tasted of depression, courage and wit. The one after that was sharp and bitter—the soul of someone who was full of hate and prejudice already. It tasted like coffee and cigarettes, wonderfully addictive and mature. It belonged to a police officer, and the part of her that was Jordan felt a special kind of thrill and irony in unleashing all his cruelty by removing the little bit of humanity that he had left.

The next one tasted like neurosis and longing. Then came a woman whose soul had almost no taste at all but who creamed shockingly hard once her flesh served. After that, obsessiveness and misanthropy. After that, duty and debt and guilt. One by one, she consumed them and destroyed them and made them serve. She moved swiftly and without any more pause, claiming one innocent soul after another—until only one remained.

The last one for now was a beautiful young woman that looked both shockingly smart and beautiful—the kind of woman that played the lead in spy thrillers—the kind of woman that every part of her would have gone mad for, even... before. She had saved that one for last. She could not wait to taste her soul—and after that—her flesh.

Your flesh will serve. All flesh will serve.

All around her stood her newly-corrupted flesh-servants, watching on their knees or on their feet, hands down their pants, or pants around their knees, fucking themselves as the darkness in their evil hearts resonated with her will. She felt their cruel obedient fantasies in her mind like shallow waves rolling over a beach of black sand.

She strode across the lawn to claim the woman’s soul. But when she reached her and stopped, her face inches away from that of her victim, she paused. For a moment she simply took in the beautiful face in front of her. Even in a mindless daze, the woman’s eyes seemed awake and alert, as if there was a spark inside of her that could never be fully extinguished. They were the kind of eyes you fell into.

Suddenly the Mother’s mind diverged, and she was violently reminded of Katie, and Sam, and Jordan—the ones that she had adored, once. They’d had the same kind of eyes. She still remembered it—what she had felt when she’d looked into those eyes. That bright feeling of adoration. That warm, prickling magnetism. That terrified anticipation of at any moment breaking something and ruining it. That overwhelming relief of being accepted and loved.

So fucking pathetic.

She smiled, and her mind danced with the wonderful music of absolute purpose. Her cruel and pitiless heart beat to the rhythm of stroking fingers and pulsating lust. Her being was alight with the incandescent glory of her resonance.

All flesh must serve!

She was the bright fire in the center of a forest clearing, burning and consuming every fluttering thing that was drawn in by her light—and her mind was that of Sam and Mina and Jordan, holding hands, dancing naked around the scorching flames as the stars shone coldly above, celebrating the death of everything they had been.

She pressed her lips against the woman’s mouth and killed her, too.