The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As she stood on the subway platform, Mary reflected on what had brought her to this moment. It had not been straight forwards. Born in London to a Jamaican called Victoria and an English man she never knew, Mary was conceived in the North West of that city but hadn’t even been born before her father left the family. Unemployed and with a new baby coming, Mary’s mother took her future daughter back to her ancestral home, Kingston in Jamaica.

They took up residence with Mary’s grandmother Victoria, named after England’s most famous queen, who was a famed and feared, though now elderly, lady rumoured to be a voodoo practitioner. A young Mary grew up in the shadow of this gnarled, wrinkled, intimidating black woman, though she heard stories that her grandmother had been an outstanding beauty as a young girl, so beautiful that when she’d been working as catering staff, at one of the British ambassador’s parties, she’d caught the eye of many of the young ruling elite attending the gala.

One went so far as to bed the gorgeous woman and, during the night, so the story went, she ensnared his mind with a devilish love potion. However, so strong was the concoction, it was too much for his elderly heart and killed him dead in his bed… but not before he’d consummated their relationship and impregnated the young Jamaican, giving her a baby girl who she called Elizabeth, after England’s most recent queen, following the family tradition of naming its daughters.

Regardless of where fact and fantasy crossed over, what was certain was that Mary’s grandmother had borne a daughter whose father was white. Elizabeth, like Victoria, had been incredibly beautiful but, unlike her mother, was much paler skinned and, more worryingly, not very bright. She’d grown up in Kingston but always yearned for England, a country with strong Jamaican links that many believed was a promised land of wealth, jobs and self-worth.

She put together as much money as she could and took the trip to England, but the country, which had actively sought mass immigration from the West Indies after the World Wars, had not been welcoming at all. By the time Elizabeth arrived, in the late 70s, the dream had well and truly soured. Still, she stayed for over a decade, eventually becoming a citizen of the country, and looked to start a family… only the man she fell in love with evaporated at the first mention of pregnancy and marriage.

Returning back to Kingston had been hard for Elizabeth but she felt it the best course of action and Mary, her daughter, named after one of England’s few remaining queens, received a very interesting education. Grandmother Victoria was indeed a voodoo practitioner and she taught her bright, beautiful little grandchild everything she knew. The main secret was that voodoo, like all magic, was a few simple tricks enveloped in as much grandeur and spectacle as you could get away with.

Mary learnt fast, her intelligence and beauty masking a ruthlessness and desire for power that only her grandmother really saw. Victoria nurtured it, encouraging the development of a truly empowered young woman who was frighteningly proficient at Victoria’s one actual magic trick… hypnosis. Victoria had learnt the technique from a grubby psychology book she’d found in her local library as a young woman, that and a mixture of trial and error.

Having finally established that she could induce a trance well enough, Victoria had subsequently turned her eye to establishing a persona where her hypnotism wouldn’t get her into trouble. Here voodoo proved very helpful, both in making people too afraid of her to question how and what she was doing, and in that her mysterious, dark magic façade caused people to be even more open to her powers of suggestion. In some cases all she had to do was say ‘I have cast a spell on you’ and whatever she suggested next was promptly obeyed!

Her granddaughter absorbed all of this and quickly went about practicing her skills on everyone she could: the local men and women, her classmates, her teachers and even her mother! After some initial false starts she soon found that she was extremely competent, gifted even, and was quick to use all her natural assets if necessary. More than one man had been ensnared by the jiggling of her firm, ample, coffee coloured breasts. One or two women had as well…

During the latter inductions Mary had learnt one or two things about herself. The first was that she infinitely preferred sexual relations with women rather than men. The second was that the only thing that turned her on more was utterly dominating those women first, controlling their minds so completely that, even when they thought they had a choice, they’d still prefer to give themselves to her. It made her body sing in a way that was completely unmatched by any other experience in the 17 and a bit years of her life. It was also something her grandmother did not approve of at all…

Mary was effectively banished from the family home when Victoria found out exactly what her granddaughter was using her skills for. However, the young, now stunningly beautiful woman was more than prepared for a life beyond the relatively narrow confines of Kingston. Using her mother’s British citizenship to secure herself a passport she immigrated to England, setting up in London.

There she set about establishing herself as a mistress at the centre of a hypnotic web, starting with her acquisition of a British passport and all the possibilities such a document opened up. Along the way she decided that the humdrum name of Mary was no longer suitable for a grand mesmerist such as herself. Instead she took the name of Solitaire, after the clairvoyant in a James Bond film based in the Caribbean, and the surname of Clark, which was chosen for its mundane nature as much as anything. There were lots of S. Clarks in the world, but very few Solitaires.

Solitaire was successful in creating a new identity, but she was also quite careless. Having received her passport she threw caution to the wind and began ensnaring woman after woman with no thought for the consequences. Within a month one of her victims was declared missing on the front of national newspapers and, to compound matters, nearly all Mary’s money had been spent on food and rent as she enjoyed the attentions of no less than ten hypnotised slaves!

Realising that it was only a question of time before she was discovered, Solitaire took her minions to the nearest ATM and had them empty their accounts. She then erased their memories and sent them to the local police station while she pocketed the surprisingly large quantity of loot, some £3,000. This was enough to get her to New York, aged 18. The Big Apple was another large city where, Solitaire hoped, there were plenty of young, attractive women who could disappear more easily than her previous prey… She was correct.

Blinking away her tiredness, Sarah gazed into the gaping tunnel of the subway as the train finally emerged. Looking around, because she was in a supposedly dangerous neighbourhood, she saw that he platform, like the train that was arriving, was practically deserted. Sighing, Sarah reflected that this was hardly surprising. Who would be travelling down from Harlem to Manhattan at nine o’clock at night on Christmas Eve?

As the subway doors opened she pulled her numerous belongings together, almost lost hold of her sheath of notes, just about caught them, manoeuvred awkwardly onto the train and dropped the pile of papers into a heap on the floor. Great. Now they were all messed up. Sighing again, Sarah bent over and pulled the documents together, eventually forming them into some semblance of order before sitting down on the subway seat with a third sigh. So this was the life was it?

Not for the first time Sarah considered why she was in New York. The answer was simple: she was good at her job. No, it was more than that. She was great at her job. As a junior researcher at BBC Cardiff, her hometown in Wales, she’d shown a great grasp of the skills it took to sort through the hundreds of applications for the network’s latest reality TV program and pick out the people who’d make good television.

That skill had taken her to London where she’d also excelled at a more demanding, though similar job. From there she’d submitted her resume to some of the large American channels, more because that’s what everyone did than any great desire to emigrate. One had called her up and invited her for interview in its London offices. They’d liked what they saw and offered her job. At her family’s insistence, as she’d always said she wanted to go to New York, Sarah had accepted.

The problem, which she hadn’t explained to her loving family, was that the skills that made her so good at her job were also what made her miserable in the big cities: she was a good listener, she empathised well, she was genuinely sympathetic of other people’s problems and sob stories, she was uncompromisingly pleasant and she never said an ill word behind peoples’ backs. In short, when presented with the application form for a potential American Idol, or British one for that matter, Sarah would see exactly how the person thought of his or herself. This was worth its weight in gold for the program’s producers, who could then plot the best way of humiliating said contestant live on air.

However, these characteristics also made Sarah a real pushover. Having been in the States six months she’d quickly become the person who made or bought the coffee, who did the annoying odd jobs that came up and who was laughed at as ‘That English girl,’ the personification of the ‘Mustn’t grumble’ attitude which supposedly made the English such easy targets. Such comments, which she invariably heard via the office grapevine, were incredibly hurtful to someone who genuinely would never even hurt a fly, and they made her even more conscious of her perceived in ‘adequacies.’

These included: having breasts, being brunette, being just five foot eight, having a body mass index classified as only slightly underweight, wearing glasses and not trying to dominate everyone she came into contact with. The thing was, by Welsh, London and, to a lesser extent, New York standards Sarah was strikingly good-looking, so much to the point where women instinctively distrusted her attempts to be nice.

An early developer, Sarah had always been acutely conscious of her weight and the large size of her chest, so made every effort to stay thin. This had given her beautiful legs, slim arms and a relatively toned body, though it had done nothing to reduce her enormous breasts, which were 34E and quite distracting for anyone she ever had to speak to. Her shoulder length hair was naturally curled, so she took care to keep it straight, while her face was pale and unblemished, with a naturally smiling look to it that, to the paranoid, made her seem like she was constantly about to start smirking.

Finally, to complete the strange mixture of beauty and pleasantness, Sarah wore delicate, understated reading glasses. They weren’t designer nor were they expensive and she was told she couldn’t use the alternatives due to not having enough tears in her eyes. Instead she stayed with her simple specs that, like her, were neither showy nor particularly ugly. They just were, and that made everyone suspicious of her.

In Cardiff it had been fine. She had lots of friends and everyone knew her as a local girl. London had been a bit worse, filled with a lot of near anorexic girls who were so paranoid about their looks that they treated anyone who was prepared to just be herself, especially if that self was very attractive, very suspiciously. New York was something else again… Compared to the flat-chested, blond, six foot tall, skeletally thin, contacts wielding uber-bitches who made up the rest of her ‘team’ Sarah had a lot to loath about herself.

Furthermore, used to having a quiet drink after work and even flirting a little at such occasions, as she had done in Cardiff and London, Sarah quickly gained the reputation of a hard drinking slut, who’d flaunt her body at any man at all, even those with wives or girlfriends. It wasn’t like she’d even slept or kissed any of them to her it was just playful banter, but that’s not how everyone else saw it. To make matters worse, her attempts to get on the dating scene in the city had been laughably disastrous.

Apparently, there was no such thing as taking things slowly in New York. You didn’t meet up, have a drink, chat a little and maybe go on to dinner… it was all tightly regimented and controlled. And very, very aggressive. Guys regarded her as frigid and couldn’t be bothered to talk to her for more than half an hour. One even pulled out his cellular phone and started arranging another date that night, right in front of her! It was embarrassing and it was humiliating for Sarah, especially the way it seemed that everyone in the office would know about such catastrophes the following day. So, to compensate, she tried harder to be liked. It didn’t work, but it did fill up her time…

For example, she’d been sitting in the office on Saturday afternoon, looking forwards to her Sunday off, with the guarantee of Monday’s Christmas Day free as well, when her supervisor came in talking about shooting locations for a program not even related to any of her projects. She needed someone to go up to the middle of Harlem and take notes on half a dozen potential locations for a new cop show the network was creating called NYPD Navy Blue, a blatant rip-off of a rival series.

No one volunteered. Eventually, after her boss spent the rest of the day muttering about doing it herself and missing out on her last chance for Christmas shopping, Sarah mentioned that she was free on Sunday… Quick as a flash she was hooked, reeled in and landed. It was just a half dozen locations, it was just in Harlem, it was just this and just that. Sarah immediately saw the job was specifically for her superior but she’d already agreed to do it and couldn’t back out. Still, according to her boss, it would only take an hour or so… In fact, it took 9.

Thus Sarah found herself returning home to a dingy, expensive flat in a rundown Manhattan apartment building for Christmas Eve, bone tired and unhappy at her life. She thought about calling home, but knew her friends and family couldn’t bear to hear anything other than great news from the Big Apple and besides, she’d yet to figure out the hour changes and stuff, despite having been in the city half a year. So she prepared for a long subway ride home, followed by dinner for one and Christmas alone. Just like last year, where her then boss had persuaded her to work Christmas day in London so that he could be with his family. Or they year before that… and the year before that…

For a moment Sarah felt the tears well up in her eyes. It was all so unfair! But instead she took a deep breath, fought down the self-pity and focussed on the copious notes she’d made on the six locations… only a shadow suddenly passed over her. Looking up, Sarah was stunned to see that there was an incredibly beautiful young woman standing in front of her. Whoever she was she was wearing a long and rather rigid looking dress with extremely daring slits right up both sides, the front and, Sarah assumed, the back as well. It didn’t look like much to protect against the December cold.

The woman sat down opposite Sarah who, realising she’d been staring, looked back down at her notes. But it was only a façade. She was fascinated by this gorgeous being who’d suddenly materialised in front of her and, after waiting a moment, slowly allowed her eyes to play up her travelling companion’s body. Whoever she was her legs were covered by the thin green material of her dress, though a black crack ran down the middle of her skirt leading all the way up to her most intimate areas. A pair of faultless feet poked out beneath the dress, housed in expensive looking black high-heeled shoes, which impressed Sarah, as she knew about the difficulties of walking in stilettos.

Surreptitiously looking further up, Sarah checked out the woman’s hands folded in her lap, the large breasts above them and, with a brief glance, the woman’s milky coffee coloured face, curly brown, almost black hair and dark, intelligent eyes. They were looking at Sarah, with a slight smile beneath, and the brunette quickly looked away, back down at her notes.

Sarah was no lesbian but she could appreciate the female form in an unbiased way while her job involved trying to discover members of the public who could occupy the TV viewing public’s attention in whatever way. It was usually a hideously cruel way that they got to ‘enjoy’ their 15 minutes but occasionally she found someone who could do so in another manner. This gorgeous black woman opposite her could do it on looks alone! Sarah wondered casually at whether the woman had any other skills that might lengthen her time on screen.

That was the usual problem with beautiful women or men: they had nothing else. Sometimes, on rare, wonderful occasions, they did but, for the most part, they had got through life on looks alone and that wasn’t enough for television. You needed allure, sassiness or some other hook, often wanton sexuality, to survive in TV’s harsh domain. Sarah wondered whether she might strike up a conversation with the woman, perhaps find out whether she… Flash…! What was that?

A glimpse of something shiny had distracted Sarah from her thoughts. Keeping her head turned towards her notes, she allowed her eyes to flick upwards again towards her travelling companion. The woman had crossed one leg on top of the other, causing the uppermost limb to extend through the centre gap of her dress, revealing beautiful, pale brown skin up to the top of her thigh. Sarah fancied she could even detect a whitish glimpse of the woman’s panties through the opening! She quickly looked back down at her notes embarrassed at such a sight.

Flash…! This time Sarah tried to focus on the cause of the irregular spark that had already twice distracted her. There it was… The woman opposite Sarah, her travelling companion as she liked to think of the people she ‘shared’ a journey with, even on the subway, had something glimmering on her ankle. Sarah stared at it over the top of her notes even leaning forwards a bit to get a better view.

Her travel buddy had a bracelet above her left foot, some sort of silver chain wrapped repeatedly around her ankle with a very shiny jewel in the centre. It was that gem which was occasionally sending flashes of light Sarah’s way. They were only occasional because the gorgeous black woman opposite her was very slowly rotating her foot, which was what had caused the gem to accidentally flash at Sarah.

The brunette stared at the jewel as it moved on its slight orbit. Round and around it went, glimmering constantly… round and around… Sarah continued watching it, finding the sight curiously resting. It was such a bright, sparkly thing in the drabness of the subway carriage. Looking at it was much nicer than all the other things, especially her long, tedious notes, and she was already so tired… She didn’t want to have to concentrate on anything else, especially with this beautiful jewel and beautiful woman so much easier on the eye. Round and around went the gem… round and around…

It was so restful, for some reason. Sarah felt the yawn start and it gradually sneaked out. She was exhausted after her long day and it was much easier to look at the wonderful jewel than to try and read through her notes. But it was so far away, twisting round and around… As subtly as she could, Sarah edged forwards a little. She could still pretend to be reading her notes but, in reality, all she was focussing on was the shiny gem as it twisted round and around… round and around…

Now the glittering jewel started to move. The woman opposite was gently raising her leg, Sarah dimly realised, sliding her soft, supple skin over her firm dress and bringing her left foot to rest on her right knee. All the time the foot continued turning, ever so slowly, round and around… all the time the gem also moved round and around… all the time Sarah looked at the bright, shiny jewel as it flashed at her from across the train.

Belatedly, Sarah realised she could now see right up the other woman’s skirt! The high centre cut of the dress had been pushed to one side by the woman’s left leg and Sarah could look all the way up to her travel companion’s obviously white panties! But it was so hard to concentrate for some reason… Flash…! Oh, that was why… the woman was still twisting her foot round and around and Sarah found it hard to keep her attention on the woman’s panties with the jewel twisting round and around in front of her.

She focussed on the gem for a moment, then looked beyond at the other woman’s panties, before the gem pulled her attention back, whereupon she found herself looking beyond it at the panties once more. Something was wrong with all this, Sarah’s mind seemed to be saying, but it was just so easy to continue focussing on the sight in front of her, so she ignored the thought. Back and forth went the focus of her eyes, between the other woman’s gem and panties… round and around too, as they followed the jewel… and closer and closer Sarah moved, edging towards the twin sources of her distraction… the flickering gem and the inviting panties…

What was wrong with that thought…? For some reason Sarah suddenly felt slightly uneasy… This situation wasn’t normal, her mind was saying, you shouldn’t… Flash…! It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the sparkly jewel, so shiny and peaceful, so easy to focus on… and the white panties, framed by such beautiful, slender, long, coffee coloured legs, and around them the sides of the stiff green dress that, despite being down to the young woman’s ankles, had failed to cover her up.

And now it was failing even more! The woman had finally moved beyond the simple twisting of her foot or rearrangement of her legs. Her fingers had come towards her left ankle. They were fiddling with the gem, unwrapping it or something… Sarah couldn’t quite understand, as her mind was strangely foggy and incapable of thought. Now the gem started to move, away from the woman’s left foot but staying right between her panties, which were being increasingly revealed…!

Sarah stared unabashedly as the gem twisted slightly from side to side in front of her, but she wasn’t focussed on the jewel… The woman opposite her had moved her left leg away from her right so that she was spreading her legs far apart! The skirt, long since removed to both sides, shielded nothing of the woman’s body beneath her hips. Sarah gazed rapturously at what was revealed, her gaze occasionally flicking back to the gem for a moment, but much preferring to stare at the other woman’s white panties…

Those panties began moving forwards slightly as the woman leant down in her chair, moving her upper back down but her lower back outwards, towards Sarah. The jewel, moved away from the brunette, towards the white panties… onto them… It finally stopped. Sarah, so empathetic, so eager to please, knew what she was supposed to do… A part of her mind tried to rebel, tried to assert itself, but it was overruled.

Slowly, she moved forwards, off her chair, towards the woman before her with her shiny, mesmerising jewel and her white, flawless panties that the gem now lay on top of. Sarah came off her seat and, her conscious mind barely aware of the decision, moved towards the other woman’s panties. It seemed impossible for her to stop. And, when she got to them, she leant in and kissed them, inhaling the inebriating scent. A whispering started at the edge of her awareness. Sarah rapidly lost consciousness.

When she came to she was still on the subway and it was approaching her stop. She pulled her bags together and stood up before moving towards the doorway. Their her… friend was standing, her back to Sarah, who felt no need to speak. Something was dangling from her… friend’s hand… the jewel, hanging from its silver binding. It was rotating slightly, twisting around, just beneath her friend’s… ass… Sarah stared lustily at the gem, alternating between it and the gorgeous bottom in front of her for what felt like forever, her arousal rising with each moment.

The doors opened and, without a word, Sarah’s new… best friend moved forwards out of the train, Sarah following her. Her friend walked slowly, but it was still too fast for her dress, which pulled apart a little with every forwards step, revealing a brief, heavenly glimpse of her friend’s oh so desirable white panties. They left the station and Sarah followed all the way, trying to stop herself from moaning out loud with every glimpse of her friend’s delectable ass, her oh so sexy legs, the shiny gem or her panties.

Sarah was desperately turned on and tried to lean forwards and touch her friend, but she couldn’t for some reason! She tried to touch herself but again, her hands wouldn’t do what they were told. Instead she continued staring at her friend’s ass, desperate to unleash the torrent of desire within her. Before the brunette even realised where they were going they were back at her apartment building. Her friend stopped in front of the main door for a moment and fiddled in front of her with her free hand briefly before continuing inside.

Now they were inside the building, walking up the stairs to Sarah’s second floor flat. Beneath her friend, Sarah couldn’t contain her gasps any more. She could constantly see her friend’s panties, each upwards step tantalisingly revealing a little more for a split second before her friend’s legs came back together… only to spread apart again with the next step and show off her delightful panties once more to Sarah. After a very short while they regrettably arrived at her floor and then her door. Once again her friend fiddled for a moment and, suddenly, they were in Sarah’s home, the door shut and the lights on.

Solitaire finally turned to Sarah, bringing the hypnotic gem she’d used so successfully to ensnare the brunette up before the woman’s barely conscious eyes. Sarah groaned, her mind desperate to surrender. Solitaire licked her lips briefly in anticipation… she’d chosen her victim well. Reaching forwards, she unclipped the binding of the necklace and gently pushed the two halves around Sarah’s neck. As the gem clipped into place Sarah finally knew everything. This wasn’t her friend it was her mistress. She’d been hypnotised and was all but enslaved. The gem represented her badge of ownership. But she had a final choice, she realised, as her mistress slowly slinked towards the open door of the bedroom, lay on the bed and spread her legs… Sarah had a choice.

She could leave. The door was behind her and a single turn of the bolt would open it. Or she could stay, go over to Solitaire, her mistress, and give herself to her entirely… And now, she realised, Sarah could touch herself…! Even as she realised it, Sarah’s hands flew to her breasts, kneading the large, soft tissue aggressively and feeling her already erect nipples harden yet more. It felt so good…! She allowed one of her hands to slip down towards her trousers, but quickly realised that she wasn’t allowed to touch herself down there… That was allowed only if her mistress said she could…

Even as the options presented themselves what remained of Sarah’s mind still desperately tried to get her to turn away. It even got so far as raising her right hand away from her body and turning her half way around towards the door. But, immediately her arousal seemed to wane. Turning back just a little brought it back, and more… Sarah tried to turn away again. Once more her arousal disappeared. She turned back. It surged once more. It was impossible to deny! Sarah’s mind tried a final time to get her to turn, to leave and go to the police or anything, but her desire overrode it and, feeling her arousal increase exponentially with every step, she advanced on her mistress.

By the time Sarah was at the bedroom door she was on her hands and knees and crying out in pre-orgasmic bliss, one of her hands pushed inside her bra and squeezing her throbbing nipples for all they were worth. There was her mistress, legs spread, dress either side of them and her panties, and the joys they contained, pointed right at Sarah. The brunette crawled towards Solitaire, so close to coming… so close…! Finally, with the greatest effort, she pushed herself up towards her mistress’ panties, the very act thrusting her closer to orgasm… and finally it came. With a single kiss of Solitaire’s white panties, Sarah came massively and repeatedly… and her mind gave in entirely. She was completely, utterly and irreversibly… dominated.