The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What a weird dream...The demon I’ve been forced to call Mistress put me to sleep with that weird light. And then I dreamed.

I can’t really remember what. There was just this constant feeling of...being afraid of people. Like, constantly wondering what they were thinking about me, and always arriving to the conclusion that they looked down on me. Me, the Lacrosse team’s ace and captain, fidgeting over what the baker thought of me.

Whatever. This was just a dream...And for once, for fucking once since this mess started, I have reasons to be optimistic. I’m back into my clothes, and I’m not inside a dungeon cell anymore. In fact, it’s better than my parents’ beat up home. The absence of windows aside, it looks like a perfectly normal old-fashioned room, with basic but comfortable furniture. And no slave collar chained to the wall, thank you very much. Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of dodge before my tormentor comes b...Aaaaand of course the door’s locked. Shit.

I feel dread building inside of me. If I don’t get out, that monster will definitely come back and resume my enslavement. Her sick words still ring in the back of my mind. “I’ll cleanse away all this bad willpower for you.” What did she do? Have I changed without realizing it? Please tell me I didn’t...Have to find a key...Have to escape.

Hey, there’s this diary again. I open it absent-mindedly, hoping for a key but merely expecting the self-description. And here it is...though the text has changed. The handwriting is a bit better, but the words are the real difference. They don’t describe me anymore...They describe what Mistress has turned me into.

“I am Lyra. I’m a young girl that hates conflict. They say I’m meek, or a pushover, but really, I just want people to be nice. I love giving favors. For this reason, I am Mistress’ prized possession and am currently in training as her maid.”

Bitter tears drop on the paper. My whole body is shaking. What did she do to me? I can’t have become a pushover...This is bullshit.

“I kind of have a temper sometimes, but I always catch myself in time and apologize. It’s just that, sometimes, even a nice girl like me can snap. But I am a nice girl...I feel kind of weird having become a Fae’s doll, but I wonder if the life of a servant can really suit me.”

No. I can’t be this girl. I can’t be admitting defeat...There’s always a way out, no matter how hopeless it is. The situation can always be turned around...That’s what I want to believe, as team captain. As a free woman. I Don’t fool yourself. She is a Goddess....I haven’t...changed...

“Dear girl...You felt it, didn’t you?”

A pathetic whine come out of my lips. She is here, right behind me...Right after I felt this horrible, sick twinge of resignation. I was trying to motivate myself, no, to -be- myself...and my betraying heart answered “Don’t fool yourself.”

I should feel anger, rage, the desire to turn around and fight this witch tooth and nail...but I only feel hopelessness. I curl up and tremble as her night-colored fingers carress my shoulders. That...that Goddess fucking monster really did drain my willpower away.

“No...” I try to object, knowing all too well she’s not going to be fooled. “Don’t be upset, my sweet” Replies her loving voice. “A part of you has melted, but you are still Lyra. You’re simply an obedient Lyra.” “I’m not Lyra. You turned me...weak. I’m not weak.” “Indeed you are not, my beloved maid. Turn around.”

An order. As if on automatic pilot, I turn 180 degrees. She’s right on me. Such a bright smile...If only it could have belonged to a handsome, normal human dude. I mean, shit! I obeyed an order like it was the most natural thing in the world and I don’t even freak out?!

“You see? Your filthy world might tell you that obedience is weakness, but as you make your first steps into the wonderful world of servitude, your pretty head is free of turmoil. With a clear station in life, a submissive girl like you can go forth without any doubts.” “I have plenty of doubts, you...” “From now on, you will always reply to my lessons by meekly saying ‘Yes Mistress.’”

Another whimper. So that’s how it’s going to be? She really does want me to become a soft, pliable toy...And I can’t shouldn’t resist her. Can I? Surely there’s some backbone left in...No. Her eyes command me. Feel dizzy. Afraid...I...I can’t hold my ground. Must obey. Easier to obey.

“Yes, Mistress.”

This is bullshit. I feel lightheaded, completely floored by the rush of humility.

“You’re such a delight, Lyra sweet. Don’t fret...I will still allow you to have a temper and speak out of turn...” Playfully says Mistress. “My little maid is a spitfire, I wouldn’t want to change anything about that...But as free to have opinions as you are, my teachings are now sacred to you. When Mistress dispenses her wisdom, you shall accept it with doe-eyed gratitude.”

Doe-eyes gratitude...The words make me feel so... Yes, good girl. Smile and obey. Fuzzy...

“Yes, Mistress.”

She takes me in her arms. So warm. Mistress loves me

“See? You already understand. You’re growing up so fast...Good girl...”

Oh...oh shit. This came so...naturally. For a second there...I really was nothing but her doting servant, drinking up her words with a captivated smile. Worse...I...This totally made me wet. How?!

“You are reborn, my dear.” She continues. “The new you never disobey, and always does as she is told. You’re already a suitable servant. But you’re far from perfect...You still fear me. Which brings us to your second major lesson...Faith.”

She lets go of me, backs off a little, and waves her hands around. There is a rain of sparkles, and...Oh my God.

“B...Blue Thunder!”

My own, custom-painted crosse, the stick you play Lacrosse with. My staff of victory. My fifth limb. I try to reach for it, but Mistress makes it float to the ceiling.

“Give me Blue Thunder back! She’s mine!” “I know. And if your heart entertains the fear that I would be cruel enough to vaporize your crosse, don’t let it. I wouldn’t dream destroy your most prized possession, Lyra sweet.”

Her voice is...disarmingly solemn. She’s telling the truth. She keeps proving how intensely she despises the real world...If she wanted to destroy Blue Thunder just to sever my ties and force me to accept this Faerie universe, she already would have. What can my dear Blue Thunder mean to her, except just a way to break me?

“I did not claim you blindly, you know. I admired you from afar for the longest time. I know what you love. I fully understand what this strange little racket, this... ‘crosse’ means to you.”

Bullshit. You’re a godlike fairy. There’s no way you understand.”

Wouldn’t I?”

She gestures to the wall behind her, and I can see myself playing with the team. I wear the white and blue team uniform...It’s an official match. In fact, it’s the match we had just won before I went home, cut through the park and woke up here. Goddamit, that was a good match, but...Now I regret ever waking up that day.

“Look at you, Lyra.” She purrs. “Joyously commanding your teammates from the middle of the field. Not only can you master that ball, you also have a powerful analytical mind. You make the most out of each player’s talent, so much you don’t even think about it. Instinct, duty, loyalty...All for the name of enjoying yourself. You’re not paid for it. You’re from a poor household but you keep playing this obscure sport because of the joy it brings. No greed, no filthy attention seeking...Just the pure fire of passion.”

Yes...” I mutter, confused. “Then...if you know about this, if you understand...Why turn me into a docile servant? Couldn’t you...I don’t know, whisk the entire team into a fantasy Lacrosse tournament or some shit like that?” What am I saying now? That looks like the premise of a shitty cartoon, but...It would have been fun...

The Fae caresses my hair, and I bow my head without even thinking.

“That’s because you imagine being my maid is just some menial task, some cruel punishment. No, my sweet. It is the greatest privilege I can bestow you. This is the highest calling a human can hope for. Directly serving a Fae...In ancient times, before all this filth and noise, girls far and wide would have murdered for a mere chance at this fate.”

Well, I am not from the Dark Ages, okay?! Being turned into a maid, without ambition or future is a punishment for me!”

Oh, but you will have the occasion to change your mind.”

She snaps her finger, and I can see Blue Thunder disappear. Before I can even protest, though, the godlike being sends into my mind a picture of where she sent it to—near the manor’s exit.

“As a matter of fact, it begins right now. This is...your tryout, if you will.”

T...Tryout?”

Yes. Your goal is to try to reach your crosse while my Manor changes you.”

Changes me? Shit, I don’t like that one bit, but...At least there’s a goddamn victory condition!

“As you make your way to the exit, you will be transformed, bit by bit, into the lovely maid I want you to be, but you will never fully lose control. You’ll have the freedom to hate these changes. If you still reject your station at the end of the hallway, you shall be given your filthy life back.”

Of course I’ll reject it! You can change me all you want, you won’t break my resolve!”

The would-be Mistress smiles, as if greatly pleased by my answer.

“Let us not wait, then. The door is open. Begin your trial.”

That’s an order I am willing to obey. I turn around, clenching my fists, and yank the door open without so much as a “fuck you”.