The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Araad caught up to Hera, then overtook her, then came to a stop in her path and swiveled to face her, standing firmly in her way.

“Good evening, Professor.” Spoke Hera with an agitated snort. “Out of my way.” Araad grimaced and shook her head, arms crossed.

“I believe I’m the one with the authority here, young woman,” Araad snapped, her eyes dull and weary. Hera no longer knew about her dealings, which meant there was zero reason for this. She assumed so, anyway. “And I’ll have you show me the respect I—”

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear, Araad Greski.” Hera scowled confidently. Her mouth wasn’t moving. She must, Araad reasoned, be using some kind of magic. “I have zero stake in this institution. I am here as my lady’s loyal hound, and no more. Get in her way and I will not hesitate to bury you alive.” There was truth in her words, or at the very least there was truth in her intent. Araad’s brow furrowed and her expression of hostility grew more naked.

“Give Livia her book.”

“I said I had HALF a mind, Professor. Besides, what I want-what I THINK-that’s irrelevant in the face of an order. Dogs aren’t for thinking.” Hera brushed forcefully past Araad and made her way towards the room that served as Livia’s living space. Araad let out breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“El garshir rakis temps.” She muttered to herself. Time yielded yet again to her influence and the last five minutes or so of her life played out again, but much faster and in reverse.

Araad sat in her combination office and living space. The chair she occupied was comfier than she was used to, despite her best efforts. One of her legs rested crossed over the other at the knee, and the other bobbed rapidly up and down. She was pouring over a book about magic, like she was basically at all times she wasn’t engaged with Ms. Calweigh or her students. Or the other students.

The book explained things she’d never known but which she had to teach. Weapons she was familiar with. Swords were probably the most complicated but she was familiar. Axes were so simple she barely had to teach. Polearms were mostly intuitive. Bows were tricky but she had...enough practice with those. Pugilism was another of her areas of expertise. Magic, though, she had little understanding of even the basics.

“There are some people born with innate magic abilities or talent in certain forms,” she mumbled to herself. The book explained that the most extreme instances of this were called sorcerers, and that they were very rare. The book elaborated that sorcerers would have instinctive knowledge of select spells or (in even rarer cases) entire forms of magic that didn’t rely on them. This instinct was so deep that, much like how a child can replicate sounds after hearing them without the need to have the specific mouth and tongue movements taught to them, these casters could recite spells they never learned and operate their results with intuitive command rivalling their own limbs. Some had even been recorded casting specific spells instantaneously in life or death situations without knowing they had.

“Would I?” Araad mused to herself. She contemplated putting on the heaviest suit of armor she could find and hurling herself into a lake. But, she realised, walking in loud full plate to the fishing area would arouse suspicion. Best...not to do that. She turned the page.

A knock at the door startled her. She jumped to her feet.

“Come on in!” She cried. The door creaked open and in walked Ms. Calweigh, a student Araad didn’t recognize in tow.

“Wait, who the hell, what—” a soothing voice waaay back in Araad’s mind reminded her to trust Ms. Calweigh. Her upset expression swiftly melted into a smile of contentment. “Hello, you two.”

“Hello,” said Ms. Calweigh. She shut and locked the door. “This is Vils. She’s a fucking mess.”

“Daaaamn, you weren’t kidding!” Vils had rich blood red hair and vivid orange eyes. The former was short but messy. She was tall, with long limbs, and her nose and cheek bones were both high and dainty. “Hello, Araad!”

“I told them you’d show her your tits.”

“What?” Araad asked, confused.

“So show her your tits.” Araad got the memo this time. She liked when Ms. Calweigh bossed her around.

“Yes, Miss. Of course.” Araad smiled wide and pulled open her top, letting her chest spill out. Vils went limp. Ms. Calweigh was muttering something, rubbing Vils’ temples with her fingers. A murky cloud of black light, which looked almost like smoke, billowed out from her fingers. They enveloped the top of Vils’ head. Floated into her ears, her eyes. Those eyes dilated and lost their luster. Vils moaned. “Good girl, Vils. We should both just relax and obey.”

“Yeah…” Vils was weak and happy and blank and suggestible. She wanted to collapse but her head was locked in place. Staring empty ahead. Seeing with her eyes but not with her mind.

“You’re both inferior to me,” Ms. Calweigh hissed. “Right, dears?”

“No,” Vils shuddered. Tried to shake her head. The smoke flailed. “No, I-what-no—”

“Yes. I’m. Better than you.” The smoke grew thicker and blacker. It rushed in waves up Vils’ nostrils, in through her ears, in her eyes. Her head slowed down and jerkily returned to its position. Staring at Araad.

“Nnnn-Im noooot…”

“You are, dear.” Araad gave Vils a warm smile. Resistance faltered. “Please let her in sweetie.” The word “sweetie” hit Vils like a hammer. She broke instantly into a dumb smile.

“I’m inferior…”

“That’s right dear.” Araad held up her breasts and started to rub and tease them. “I’m the teacher. I teach you, yes?”

“You...teach me…” it didn’t matter that Vils wasn’t one of Araad’s. It was hot. She was eager.

“Yes, good girl. Just trust her, obey her.”

“Trust...obey…” they muttered.

“It’s very important,” Ms. Calweigh continued with an almost sadistic grin, “That you pay cloooose attention. Listen.”

“Listeeeeen…” Vils stared dumbfounded into Araad’s cleavage. She felt herself growing limp. Pliable.

“That’s right, sweet cheeks.” Araad climbed into Vils’ lap. Her breasts and the student’s face were inches apart. Vils’ mouth fell gaping open. Her tongue lolled shamelessly out of it. She felt herself falling forward, as if gravity had shifted and now her body drifted to those breasts in place of the earth. They called to her, tempted her.

She had to listen.

She had to listen.

“Sweet...cheeks…” Vils purred. “Listen. Obey.”

“Good girl.” Cooned Ms. Calweigh with an edge in her voice malicious as a knife’s edge, “Inferior. Listen. Obey.”

“Listen,” Vils parroted, “And obey. Listen, and...and obey…”

They continued like this for an hour. Ms. Calweigh dug deep into Vils’ mind with a grin. Araad, too, was all too eager to lend her voice and charm to the effort. Vils was quickly disassembled, softened, undone, reduced to putty in the (not all that much) older girls’ hands. When their work came to a close, Ms. Calweigh unceremoniously booted Vils from the room. The discombobulated student stumbled disoriented to her dorm, where she collapsed uselessly into bed and was taken by a deep slumber almost instantly.

“I can’t believe that TOOK so long!” Ms. Calweigh grumbled to her protege. She sat on Araad’s bed, and she looked ANGRY. “Three entire days of class and we’ve made progress with ONE student!”

“They folded pretty quick, though.” Araad tried to console her partner, still buried in a book. “We can’t hurry things too—”

“Oh,” cackled Ms. Calweigh, “Oh, but we CAN. With that spell of yours we can fuck up as often and as hard as we want! We’re untouchable!”

“Two days and thirty hours ago Hera caved your head in,” Araad mumbled. “Honestly that woman scares me.”

“She should,” Ms. Calweigh said. “That woman is trouble.“

“Should we target her first, then?” The thought of softening that horrid scowl into something more personable made Araad feel warm and tingly. She wanted to see them smile...to make them smile. She smiled, herself, as the thought made her heart skip a beat.

“No. We’re better off going after her master.”

“Oh?”

“Did you seriously not profile your students?”

“Just explain.” Ms. Calweigh performed an exaggerated groan and rolled her eyes.

“Well. There are several factions here, right?”

“Yes,” answered Araad, “Us, the church, and the empire.”

“Wrong,” Ms. Calweigh chastised, “The eastern...northern...parts of the empire succeeded about three hundred years ago. They’re a feudal nation-state now. Though, with a recent revolution they’re considering some idealist horseshit called ‘democracy’ these days. The southern part of the Empire also has its own shit going on and is essentially a seperate power in all regards that matter.”

“Okayyyy,” droned a bored Araad, who was only half paying attention, “and what you’re getting at...is?”

“The next in line for emperor is Atris. She goes here.”

“I know. She’s in my class.”

“I’m aware. Anyway, Hera’s family and hers are all entwined by some ancient ‘duty’ nonsense. She might as well be Atris’ dog.”

“So I should...target Atris first.”

“Yes, finally!” Ms. Calweigh rolled her eyes. “Took you long enough.” The teacher’s aide shot to her feet. “I’m going to my living space before anyone gets suspicious.”

“Why would it be suspicious if you were—”

“I made Vils look like you! I made her look like you on the way in and I made myself look like her.”

“That seems like—” Ms. Calweigh was through the door. Araad mused that she missed the confident, commanding Ms. Calweigh that she’d first met but then turned back to her reading.

“Why can’t we communicate the safer way, mi’lady?” Hera asked her master while glancing down at a knife in her hands. The blade glistened nicely in the outside light.

“Because,” Atris paused to take some sweets from her pocket and scarf them down, “because using magic like that is suspicious.”

“And that warrants the risk of being overheard?” Hera returned the weapon to a sheath at her side.

“Just be a good hound and—” Atris froze. “Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t—”

“Shall you call me a bitch, instead, then?” Hera asked. Her face was as offended, as angry, as jovial as a blank slate of marble. Atris forced herself not to laugh. She couldn’t tell how her companion felt and had no intention of offending them. “Hera Töten, Bitch of the Empire? The Imperial Bitch? The Emperor’s Bitch? High Bitch in Service—”

Atris lost composure and clutched at her stomach laughing.

“Hera! Hera, please-stop it! Ah- hahaha! Hrrr-snrckt, pfffff—” she guffawed and yelped at length until her body fell back under control. “Wait, were you serious?”

“Dead serious, your imminent Majesty. As I always am, in all matters.” Atris chuckled. She still wasn’t entirely certain. The two walked out from the shade and made a leisurely stroll through a lavish garden area.

“In...in any case. What have you found about the teacher?” Atris asked.

“Only that she is a sorcerer and a former mercenary,” Hera answered, her voice heavy with contemplation. “Unusual for the church to so trust someone without any more knowledge on hand. Certainly worthy of suspicion.”

“And her aide?”

“That Ms. Calweigh character?” Hera snorted dismissively. “I trust neither her competence nor her character any farther than I could throw her.” Atris nodded and lifted a thumb to her mouth, then bit it. “Your imminent Majesty, with all due respect—”

“It’s a bad habit, I know,” muttered Atris as she, annoyed, removed the nail from between her lips. “Have you been eavesdropping on them?”

“Come now,” Hera responded, “I haven’t the time to waste eavesdropping on them and I shan’t until after we’ve ensured several more pressing matters are neutralized.” The two came to a stop and breathed easy for a moment. Then Hera frowned. “The noise suppressing enchantment I placed over this area is gone.” Both froze for a moment. The gravity of this blunder hung from their necks like an albatross. “We’ll have to use this method for now,” Atris heard Hera say inside her own head, ”A rookie mistake. Later today I’ll inspect this area under the guise of looking at the plant life. I might be able to discern whose magic rendered my own undone.”

“Very well,” Atris reluctantly projected out to her companion. She disliked doing this for...a few reasons. She knew, though, that none of them would hold up, not against Hera and not against the risk they might pose to her mission. A bell rang. “I have a meeting in the chapel. Unfortunately, my position means I can’t opt out. It would-”

“It would call attention to you,” Hera finished the thought for her. Atris felt uneasy and dizzy for a moment. Having one’s thoughts completed for them like that was not a feeling that sahe would ever cease to find disconcerting. “I need not have every bit of intrigue spoonfed to me, your Majesty. You might raecall where and how you learned them.”

“Alongside you…” Atris muttered out loud. Hera nodded with a grim snarl on her lips.

“My apologies for digging up any unpleasant memories,” Hera offered, sounding genuinely waorried. “Do stay safe.”

“I will,” Atris promised. “Apology accepted.” She departed for the spiritual center of the monastery, ssteseling herself to meet the woman at its head.