The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

For some... there are no choices.

I stand before the full-length mirror, watching my nude body reflected in cheap glass. Beads of sweat run down my skin; some are met by Tracy as she kneels before me, her tongue tracing expertly across my clit. I shudder as she brings me to climax, my hands tangled in her long black hair, holding her in place until at last I’m satisfied. For now.

I am only flesh... and all flesh is weak.

My juices wash over her, spilling down her cheeks and across her tongue, nectar to a hungry bee as she laps up every drop, cleaning me with long, loving strokes. Her tongue is longer now, more nimble, like a snake’s... as is my own. Our bodies are being reshaped... sculpted... transformed by the Voice. My legs are toned, strong, firm muscle beneath smooth, flawless flesh; curvy hips that wrap around into a perfect ass; breasts which seem to grow by the hour, topped with hard, succulent nipples. I look again at my reflection and smile at what I am becoming. At what the Voice has wrought.

All flesh is weak... but the Voice is strong.

Tracy stands, takes my left nipple between her thumb and forefinger and tweaks it gently, sending a delicious surge of pleasure rushing through my nerves, up to my brain, arousing me once again—or is it still? I grasp her chin, raise her mouth to my own, and taste myself on her lips, her tongue.

Behind us, Julie grunts in satisfaction as she settles her burden in the dark blue trunk that once held my past like a tomb. She closes the lid and snaps the latches in place before walking up behind me, her bare feet treading silently over the dozens of photographs strewn across the floor, faded smiling images of half-forgotten parents better left in the shadows of the past.

The Voice is strong... but the Voice is more than strength. The Voice shows clarity. The Voice grants forgiveness for all transgressions. The Voice brings purpose... and desire... and anticipation for what is to come.

I gasp as Julie’s hand snakes around my ass, between my legs, her finger finding my clit and caressing it expertly. Her body presses against mine and I close my eyes as her soft lips kiss the nape of my neck. Tracy steps closer, and I am surrounded by the most wonderful sensation, skin on skin on skin, fingers touching, lips kissing, tongues tasting, and I indulge my desires again as the Voice fills my mind.

We are all but the instruments of Her will... and when She has Awakened, this world shall never be the same.

“I’ll be there. Yes, I know where it is...” Claire Goodman trotted up the stairs, sweat cooling on her skin, cell phone held to her ear as she spoke. “Look, I gotta go. See you later,” she said, then snapped the phone shut and clipped it to the waistband of her tight running shorts. She shook her head and adjusted the racquet under her arm, wondering just why the hell she didn’t just dump Pete’s sorry ass. I’m not a moron, she thought, annoyer her boyfriend thought her so dumb. So what if I’m blonde?

Maybe frat boys just turn me on too much... not that Pete’s getting any anytime soon. Claire chuckled as she rounded the corner to the third floor, but stopped when she found herself face-to-face with two girls she recognized as roommates from down the hall. “Hey, Nat, Julie. Whatcha got?”

Nat and Julie each carried one end of an old blue trunk. “Just the future,” Nat said, a strange little smile curling the corners of her mouth. “Want a peek?”

Whoa, cryptic Claire thought as she moved aside to let them pass. “Maybe later.”

She balanced one of the blue rubber balls on the racquet as she walked toward her room at the far end of the hall, wondering just what those two were up to. Julie was awfully quiet... she thought, the image of the normally extroverted Julie following silently behind lodged in her thoughts.

As she reached her door, Claire popped the ball up into the air, catching it with her left hand just as Nat’s voice echoed up the stairwell behind her:

“I’ll hold you to that.”

This part of the basement was dimly lit at best, far from the heavily-used laundry facilities and exercise room. Flickering fluorescent tubes revealed cracked, flaking paint and crumbling brick, the most obvious signs of long-neglected maintenance. Nat stepped into the doorway and set down her end of the trunk, peering into the corridor beyond as if into some unexplored cavern. Dust covered every surface, disturbed only by the occasional footprint; this far down there were seldom any visitors... which suited their needs perfectly. Nat ran her hand over the wall, feeling the paint crumble to dust beneath her touch.

Further up the hallway a heavy door swung open, its long-disused hinges squealing in protest. Tracy stepped out, streaks of dirt covering her clothing and pale skin. “Come and see what I found,” she said, smiling.

Nat and Julie followed her into the room, setting the trunk down in the center, very near where its precious contents would ultimately reside. Ancient lab tables and metal cabinets lined the walls, long abused by college students before being relegated to oblivion down here. Tracy had dragged one of the cabinets away from the back wall, revealing a patch of older plaster painted a lighter shade of green... and the metal door that had been concealed. Intriguing, the Voice purred. Where does it lead?

“It’s an access to the old steam tunnels,” Tracy said. “University maintenance must have covered it up during some renovation, probably didn’t want kids breaking their necks down there.”

The steam tunnels had long been known by the university students, crisscrossing the campus, connecting the basements of most buildings. The had originally been built to provide access for steam and water lines a century before, but now carried the miles of electrical wire and telecommunications cable required to operate a modern educational institution. “We can get into any building on campus through here, and nobody would even know.”

Then let us use it—we’ve so very much to do, and the time grows short... the Voice said.

Tracy held up a sheet of paper; ordered rows of black handwriting ran down two-thirds of the page. “I know just what we need.”

Nat quickly read down the list: metal bar stock, quarter-inch steel cable, quarter-inch nylon cord, surgical tubing, beer keg with tapping gear, hand truck... The list went on, and as Nat read the Curio nestled within her cunt began to pulse with warmth. Intriguing...

Nat walked over and unlatched the trunk, her eyes a conduit for the Voice to see the precious item held within. “It’s more than that,” she said, the plan forming in her mind, growing clearer with each moment. “It’s perfect.”

Perfect? the Voice said, and a sharp peal of laughter echoed through the trio’s thoughts. Inspired, perhaps... devious, certainly... but perfect? No... only I am perfect.

All you need are three more items.

Lester Greer was waiting for the analyzer to complete its cycle—meaning he was slumped over the desk, a slick of drool running down one cheek—when something woke him from his far-too-infrequent slumber. A door opening behind him, perhaps, and then closing again. He rubbed his eyes, wiped his cheek with a dirty lab coat sleeve, looked at his watch and groaned. Nine-thirty, he thought. Probably just Cliff making his rounds. He yawned and lay his head back down, wondering just why he wanted to get his Masters degree so badly that he’d sacrifice what little social life he had just to finish this series for the professor by Monday.

Another door opened somewhere, this time accompanied by the tinkle of breaking glass. What the hell? Lester thought as he stood up, straightening his thick glasses. “Cliff? That you?”

Lester had come to know the maintenance man pretty well since the semester began, and knew that Cliff was not clumsy. He was also not one to sneak around, especially in dim, spooky basements. “That better be you,” he muttered, checking the analyzer readout. Plenty of time—he could take a quick look and be back long before the run completed.

He opened the door and poked his head out into the hallway, looked left, then right... and stopped: there was a light on in the chemical locker. Great. More jackasses looking for drugs, he thought. None were kept there, only basic chemistry stuff, but that had never stopped the desperate or the stupid from trying to break in at least once every semester. He started to turn around, but then something was being pressed against his face, and a thick, pungent odor assaulted his nostrils and filled his lungs. Chloroform? he managed to think as his legs folded and he collapsed. We don’t keep chloroform here...

When his senses returned, all Lester could think about was the most wonderful dream of sex that still filled his mind. Oh, man... what was that all about... he thought, but then all his words left him as something warm and wet brushed across the head of his cock and he shuddered, an involuntary moan escaping his throat. He opened his eyes and looked down just as the dark-haired girl kneeling before him wrapped her lips around his throbbing member.

Lester gripped the arms of the chair, no longer caring how he’d arrived in this particular position as the mouth around his cock began working up and down, lips and tongue and teeth driving him wild as all those silly skin-magazine fantasies replayed in his mind. Dear Forum, you won’t believe what happened to me...

The girl looked up, her dark eyes mischievous as she gently nipped at the head of his cock, making him shudder. “Do you like this?” she said, and licked him from base to tip like an ice cream cone.

“Oh... yeah...” he moaned, reaching out to grab her hair and pull her mouth back down over his throbbing member.

“Then you have to do just as I say... or I’ll leave you like this.” To reinforce her point, the dark-haired girl stood and began to turn toward the door.

“Please don’t—don’t go! Please!” Lester sputtered, suddenly desperate. “I need—I need to —”

“To cum? Yes, you certainly do... but not yet,” she replied. She swung a shapely leg over both of his and straddled him as he sat on the chair, sandwiching his cock between their bodies, sliding it against her belly and moist thatch. She leaned closer, slid his glasses off, tossed them aside, and took his face in her hands. “Is this what you dream of?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes...” he replied, unable to lie, grinding his hips against hers, desperate for release.

“And what if this was more than just a dream?” She rocked back slightly, moved her hips up, and suddenly his cock slid into her tight passage, making him yelp and shudder. “What if this was the future, nothing but pleasure for all eternity?”

Somewhere in the distance there was a long electronic beep; part of Lester’s mind thought he really ought to check the analyzer, but then those lips descended to his and her tongue worked its way between them, sticky and sweet and intoxicating as she began to rise and fall upon his cock, each motion bringing new ecstasy. Dark rivulets of black cum escaped from between their joined lips, coated his cock as her excitement grew and her pace quickened, became frantic as his hands found her hips and held them tight. He pushed himself up into her as hard as he could, eyes rolling back into his head as he finally let go, spurt after spurt filling her tight cunt, white mingling with the black that was already flooding out of her.

Tracy smiled as Lester’s body went limp, her tongue oozing black cum as she licked her lips. “Rest now,” she said, easing his still-hard cock out of her as she stood and surveyed the room. Over in a corner she spied a two-tiered utility cart. Just what she was looking for... to start.

“You’ll need all your strength soon enough.”

Not far away, Cliff Maddox was wondering just what the hell had gotten into kids these days. Here it was, ten-thirty at night, and some foolish girl had left her skirt right in the middle of the hallway, no doubt some sort of prank. He walked over, knelt down, picked it up, then dropped it when he felt the soaked material. Crazy kids, he thought.

He was about to retrieve a broom and dustpan from his nearby cart—latex gloves, too, can’t be too careful about disease, after all—when he spied a small white object lying in a crumpled pile halfway down the hall. He walked over and nudged it with his foot. Panties?

A giggle echoed behind him, and Cliff turned just in time to see the door to the girls’ restroom ease closed. “Okay, enough of this,” he said. “Ain’t got no time for foolishness tonight —”

He pushed open the door and froze, his thoughts locked up at the sight before him: an attractive blond girl leaning over one of the sinks, naked as the day she was born, her bare ass and pussy lips warm and inviting. Immediately, against all his better judgment, hic cock sprang to life, straining against his faded blue coverall. Oh, Lord, what is this? he thought as her reflection looked him in the eye.

Without a word she smiled and raised a hand to her mouth, sliding her middle finger inside, sucking it until it was slick, neither one of them blinking even once as he stood there, transfixed. What the hell’s gotten into kids these days? he thought again, but this time the thought came from somewhere in the he back of his mind and faded quickly.

The girl reached down between her legs and used that finger to stroke herself, slowly at first, until moisture covered her blonde-maned labia. When she slid the finger inside her Cliff moaned without realizing it, his attention divided between the delectable sight before him and the urgency growing in his cock. She soon added a second digit, her reflected gaze never wavering from his, and oh, those pale blue eyes were so pretty now...

“Ohhh.... ahhhh...” the girl breathed as her hand sped up, pumping her fingers quickly now in and out of her pussy. The air had become thick, filled with some wonderful aroma—jasmine, perhaps, or maybe the perfume of that New Orleans hooker who had gotten his virginity a lifetime ago. It eased its way into his senses, caressed all the right memories, and suddenly he was seventeen again, young and strong and off to fight in a war he never wanted to see.

His hands trembled as he unzipped his coverall and pulled it down, letting the heavy garment fall to the floor as he walked forward, shedding clothing as he went until, barely a foot from her, he stood naked, his cock hard as stone, the tip already wet with pre-cum. He stood behind her, staring at the sight before him, and just for a moment wondered just what the hell he was doing.

Then the girl reached around with her other hand and wrapped it around his cock, gripping it tightly, making him gasp. “What are you waiting for, soldier?” she said. “Don’t make me ask again.” She pulled him closer, leading him by his cock, until the head just barely brushed against her pussy. He reached out, grabbed her hips, marveled at their perfect roundness as his grip tightened. With a grunt he thrust forward and slid inside her, the grip of tight female flesh around him a welcome sensation indeed after so long alone.

The girl moaned and gripped the sides of the sink tightly as he withdrew and thrust forward again, then again, then again, each cycle faster as the old muscles remembered the process and eagerly repeated it. Each stroke provoked an animal grunt, the nubile young creature speared by his cock urging him on with each one, whispering nasty little thoughts right to his mind, it seemed. He let her hips go and pawed at he breasts, squeezing them roughly, pinching her nipples and making her shriek. He moaned against her shoulder and bit down, savoring the salty sweat and coppery blood her drew. With each stroke rational thought was driven further and further away, retreating until nothing remained but the grunting animal wanting nothing more than to satiate its lust.

She cried out as the cock throbbed inside her, filling her with sticky cum. Cliff’s thrusting never paused, never even slowed as he grabbed her arms and pulled them back behind her, forcing her into an awkward half-standing position. He held her there, nearly lifting her off the floor with each thrust as he plunged into ecstasy again and again, unable to stop himself even if he’d wanted to. Black cum dripped from her cunt, seeping around his cock as both shook in orgasm, becoming a flood as his own seed mixed with it and squirted out from the interlocked flesh, until finally his grip went slack and he fell to the floor, cock still standing proud as his face went blank.

Nat turned around and knelt between his legs, gently milking him, making him shudder as a fresh gout of cum shot into the air and landed on his belly. “That’s it... yeah, that’s just fine,” she cooed, licking the tip of his member and savoring the taste as it slid down her throat. But enough with the fun and games—there was work to be done.

“Now, soldier... take me to your shop.”

Kevin, you suck.

Perry Deines—Pete to everyone but his family, and only then when in trouble—yawned and stretched, the sports-car magazine open to one of his favorite advertisements, a sleek black vehicle with a big-breasted babe spread out over the hood. He still had no idea just what product she was selling, nor did he care—the babe was welcome company on a cold October night. She looked a little like his girlfriend Claire—bigger tits, dark hair, but those lips... oh, I bet she’s good with those lips... he thought, hoping that at the party tomorrow night he’d finally get the chance to find out.

But for the time being was stuck here pulling a double shift—again—because that little shit Kevin had pussed out. The liquor store did brisk business most nights, but the sudden cold front rolling through had driven most customers away tonight, making the near-closing hours quite lonely.

Pete adjusted his ass on the he improvised milk-crate seat and frowned, realizing just how full his bladder had become. He stood up and yawned, then took a quick glance around the store, empty of people now for over an hour. Quick piss-break should be okay, he thought. Then, without thinking about it, he grabbed the magazine and headed for the restroom in the back. A little company couldn’t hurt, either.

He pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside, not bothering to lock it behind him, unbuttoned his fly and slid down his jeans and boxers. In his left hand was the magazine; in the right... well, the right hand was soon occupied with more than simply holding his cock and was stroking up and down its length, teasing it to hardness. His attentions, focused as they were, completely missed the electronic bing-bong of the front door opening and closing, or the footsteps that stopped just outside the door at his back. In his mind, he was leaning back on his bed at the frat house, watching Claire work her mouth around his tool.

Pete never heard the door open behind him, or the steps as someone walked up behind him, tilting her head slightly as she watched him pleasure himself, lost in the sensations. She smiled, a predator preparing the killing blow, and raised the looped belt she held in her hand.

Sheep, she thought. And a wolf.

With a single motion she dropped the belt over his head and pulled, tightening the loop around his neck and cutting off his air. Pete, yanked back into reality by the attack, tried to yelp, to call for help, but his breath had no outlet, no way to escape the unyielding pressure at his throat. He dropped the mag, all thought of his impending orgasm gone—all that mattered now was to take a breath, to keep air moving in and out of his lungs. He began flailing, trying to grab at his assailant, throwing elbows and missing.

A strong hand grabbed his right wrist, pulled it behind his back, and then the assailant was pressing against him, holding his hand in place with her body as another belt was looped around it. The assailant yanked on the belt, pulling his hand to that spot just between the shoulder blades nobody can properly scratch on their own, and with a few more precise motions his left arm was identically restrained by the other end of the same belt, leaving his arms immobilized.

The periphery of Pete’s vision was going dark and tears were flowing freely from his eyes when the belt at his throat was loosened just a fraction, allowing the barest hint of cool air to creep into his burning lungs. He gulped down as much as he could, not caring why the assailant had done it, only that they had.

A hand snaked around him, grabbing his forgotten (but still-erect) cock and squeezing it hard, eliciting a strangled yelp. He was shoved up against the tile wall, his legs spread apart by the toilet bowl between them, his cock just at the level of the toilet tank; hot flesh pressed against his exposed buttocks, fingers pressing so hard they left bruises. Breath warmed his neck, his ear, as his assailant spoke for the first (and only) time: “Time to play.”

Panic grew into full-blown terror as cold hardness touched against his ass, a rod of iron pressing against his anus, seeking warmth. Nothing could stop its inexorable progress as the head of the Curio tapered, became slender, almost needle-like, slid into the tight opening and up Pete’s ass before expanding once again to its full thickness. Pete screamed as flesh tore within him, drops of blood staining the toilet water below as Julie withdrew, paused, and pressed forward, deeper this time. Pain blossomed as the process was repeated, each stroke bringing fresh agony even as the hand around his own member loosened and allowed it to slide back and forth along her fingers, responding with excitement even as his cheeks burned with fear and shame.

Grunts filled the room now, low animal sounds as Julie fucked Pete’s ass mercilessly, her hand a surrogate cunt as his cock began to drip with pre-cum. Pain was married to pleasure with each thrust as her breaths became desperate and the grunts became howls, her thrusting feral now, uncontrolled. “Uh! Uh! Uh!” she screamed, and suddenly Pete’s ass filled with heat that crawled up his guts and dribbled down his legs, black cum mingling with the red blood in the bowl, and unable to stop now he orgasmed, his cum dripping over his cock and her hand, pooling on the cold porcelain -

In his mind, behind his eyes, he saw a line of men dozens, hundreds, all kneeling before Her, their eyes fixed upon Her in lust, wanting nothing more than to crouch over her and take her like an animal, over and over until their passions were at last sated. But there was no end to this hunger, no satiating this burning need to envelop themselves in sweet, tender flesh. She watched as the men began to stroke themselves, hands wrapped tightly around throbbing purple-headed cocks, eager for release. A collective groan rose as one by one they came for her, their seed flying in thick wet strands, sometimes landing on their own bodies, sometimes on the backs of the men before them. Faster and faster they began top spasm, two, three, half a dozen, each more intense than the last, desperate groans filling the cavernous stone chamber as they all shuddered and came and came and came -

When it was over—when Julie turned Pete around and sat him down on the toilet—his eyes were glassy, unfocused as the fear and shame were burned away. Julie knelt down, her hand still around his cock, and began pumping it again, grunting in satisfaction when she was rewarded by another spurt of cum after a few moments of stimulation. She stood and licked her fingers, letting his taste linger on her tongue, and then led him out of the restroom and toward the back... where the fun stuff was.

Tonight was shaping up to be a big night.

Ahhh... home at last, the Voice thought, pleased as Julie and Pete exited the tunnels into their basement chamber. The beer keg echoed with a hollow boom as Pete set it down and stepped over to a corner of the room, peeling off his clothes as he went and adding them to the pile left there by the other two men in the room. Near the center of the room Cliff was busy welding together a boxy open framework and bolting it to the floor, then welding a large steel ring to the underside of the top beam. Sparks struck his bare flesh and sizzled, but Cliff never gave any indication he was aware.

Moments later Pete had taken his place at Cliff’s side, holding components in place as Julie approached, the Curio held in one hand. Silently Julie knelt and offered the blood-red prize to Nat, her head down as Nat accepted it into her pussy, shuddering as it slid within of its own will. Did you miss me? the Voice asked.

“Always,” Nat replied, surveying the room. In the far corner Tracy and Lester had assembled a complex array of glass and metal, a chemistry set right out of a mad scientist’s lab. Laid out on metal trays were dozens of implements covered by white cleaning rags. Nearby, on the floor, the blue trunk had been opened; a half-dozen tubes ran from the item held within to the tangle of glass. “The party’s almost ready.”

And the guests?

“I have the perfect candidates. All they need...is the proper invitation,” Nat said, and Tracy giggled.

Then by all means... have them join us as soon as possible.