The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cheryl checked the markings on her basement floor against the sketch on the parchment one last time. The creep that sold her the statue and its instructions was very adamant about having each symbol perfectly drawn and carefully following all the instructions or she would be in for a nasty surprise. She shivered, remembering the contortions his wretched face went through to smile when he said that.

Creep.

It’d been bad enough going down into hoodsville to find the nasty little shop. She didn’t normally go into the bad parts of town. There wasn’t any point. They couldn’t afford her, she hated the cat calls, and she didn’t like how ugly and dirty it was anyways.

But here she was, trying to decipher these instructions. The goat’s blood reeked and all the things she had to do were just plain weird. Cheryl shook her head, feeling silly about even attempting such a foolish thing. Witches, spells and demons? What was she smoking?

Cheryl sighed and swirled the brush in the blood again. Her knees ached from the pressure while she drew the pentagram on the cement. Maybe her PJs weren’t the best choice. She wasn’t looking forward to kneeling again, but there wasn’t any way around it. The bristles dripped the dark red fluid on the floor as she tied the brush to a string anchored in the middle of her drawing. She pulled tight and started tracing a circle.

Damn agent, she thought as she shifted over. Her knees were raw from the bumps in the concrete. If he wasn’t such a prick I wouldn’t have to do this. She shifted again. Ouch! Fuck! Fucker! I hate him! Another shift. I’m no porno slut! He should be getting me real roles! Last shift. Ouch! I am going to be famous, dammit! The circle enclosed the pentagram. He’s going to pay, just like all those damn directors!

Cheryl untied the brush and leaned back to check her handiwork. God, I can’t believe I’m trying this. She laughed at herself. Well, not exactly God. She grabbed the four candles and placed them around the circle, marking the cardinal directions. Her watch said it was 11:45pm. She still had a little time left. She picked up her glass of wine from the corner and sipped.

I bet nothing’s going to happen.

She walked over to the statue and hefted it off the floor. It felt like the Ricker pewter statues one of her sugar daddy’s had, but this one was a grossly misshapen combination of... well, maybe an ass, a goat and a man. The twisted forms seemed to be writhing either in torment or orgy; she couldn’t decide which. Just like a man to stick it up an ass, though.

She sipped her wine again and checked her watch. It was getting close now. I need to light the candles. She grabbed the matchbook and looked at the little female devil on the cover. A tail won’t suit me. She laughed again at herself, feeling foolish stinking up her basement with goat’s blood. She lit the candles and flicked off the lights. But the horns might be cute. The statue went into the middle of the pattern.

Her watch counted down the seconds until midnight. She checked the parchment one last time. Standing in the right position, got the candles, got the drawing, statue’s in the middle... Her watch clicked over to midnight. Time to recite.

“Oh Great and Mighty Asmodai, Lord of Lust, Adversary of St. John, I command you to appear before me now!” Cheryl yelled, raising her arms. Her voice echoed faintly in the bare, unfinished basement.

Nothing happened.

She looked down at the parchment on the floor and checked what she said. No, it was right. She looked up at the statue. The candlelight played across the twisted form, throwing shadows everywhere. Is it moving? She leaned closer.

The statue abruptly grew, writhing about as though the creatures were trying to tear away. Guttural cries echoed off the bare walls and gusts of violent wind whipped past Cheryl. She screamed in shock and fell backwards, landing hard on her butt. The demon in the pentagram stretched upwards to the ceiling, curving its three heads in the low clearance.

“Who dare summon me from the depths of Hell?” All three heads, man, ram and bull, turned to face Cheryl. She whimpered and scooted back against the wall as the creature tried to reach out, but banged against an invisible barrier. It shifted it’s focus back to the floor. It studied the sigils on the ground, experimentally poking and prodding, trying to find a way out. Cheryl carefully pushed herself up the wall, trying not to draw attention to herself. She shrieked as the man head swung back to face her.

“Did you summon me only to imprison me here? Speak!” It gestured at Cheryl. “What great need do you have that you endanger your immortal soul, witch? Speak!” It impatiently swished it’s great serpent tail, banging against the limits of its transparent cage.

“I... uh, I...” Cheryl stammered.

“SPEAK WITCH!” All three heads trumpeted at once. Cheryl thought her skull was going to implode from the cacophony.

Oh my god it worked what do I do now what do I say oh my god this is so fucked up! She frantically looked around for a way out. The way her basement was laid out placed her on the far side of the stairs, so she would have to round the demon to get out. Her glance fell upon the parchment at her feet.

What did it say again? She ducked closer.

“You try my patience.” The lowered voice frightened Cheryl more than the shouting. The demon moved frenetically in its symbol cage. Cheryl read furiously.

There it is, there it is!

“Art thou Asmodai?” she yelled, mustering as much confidence as she could.

“Aye, I am that which you seek.” The motion stopped. Each head now concentrated fully on Cheryl. She took a deep breath to gather herself under the fierce gaze.

“Verily I have displayed my power over you, Lord Asmodai, summoning you with your true name, and require now that you grant me a boon!” When Cheryl had first read these lines she felt like it was part of some bad B movie with crappy writers. She delivered them as such, but at least this movie seemed to have pretty damn good special effects. The only thing that kept her from cracking up in hysterical laughter was the terrible visage before her.

“Your boon shall be granted at your immortal soul’s peril, witch. Ask for what you desire.”

Cheryl trembled as she pulled out her prepared speech. Her mind was blanketed in dread and loathing facing this hideous being but she held fast.

They will all pay dearly now.

“Lord Asmodai, I ask that you grant me power over all other’s minds that I might control their actions, thoughts, feelings and desires.”

“Controlling minds, witch? Surely you have not forgotten my Enemy’s rules?”

“It is the boon I ask, Asmodai. Grant it.”

“I will offer you a compromise then, witch. I can grant you the power to drive furious lust into the hearts of men through which they can easily be manipulated...”

“No. I want complete control.”

The demon paused briefly. It looked at her curiously. “Tell me, witch, from what book did you learn the incantation to bring me hence?”

Is this a test? She decided she should go with the truth. “From this parchment.” She held it up.

“And, from which great scholar’s work was this page rended? Johann Wier perhaps? Or my good friend Mathers? Maybe Mr. Crowley?”

“I.. uh, I...” Cheryl stammered.

Asmodai looked askance at Cheryl. “It’s of no matter, witch.” The great maw of the ram chuckled as the human head continued speaking. “I will grant you your boon as best I can, with but a small condition attached.”

“Con—condition?” She didn’t think the parchment hadn’t mentioned conditions, but then she really had read all of it that carefully.

Asmodai shifted inside the pentagram. He smiled crookedly. “Yes, witch. Since controlling minds and not just swaying them is such a tax on my power, you must show yourself free of petty temptation and lasciviousness and capable of grandiose and supreme acts! You must prove yourself worthy of such awesome power, to be revered and reviled for ages to come! For what I grant you will make you great and mighty beyond your dreams!”

“Really?” Cheryl leaned in closer. “What must I do?” Little electric beads of excitement fluttered in her chest. They’ll all see just how important I am!

“Simply this.” Asmodai leaned in closer to Cheryl and spoke softly. “A trivial task for someone as ... superlative and upstanding as yourself, witch.”

“Yes, yes, tell me...”

“First let me know your name, that my minions can spread the word of your eminent dominion throughout the earth and verily unto heaven!”

Cheryl stopped for a second. Something tickled the back of her mind, telling her this might not be such a great idea. She couldn’t come up with any reason not to, though. And she wanted to be great. And famous. And very important. With an entourage.

“Cheryl.”

“Full given name? The worshippers at your feet should know the full name of their new goddess.”

“Cheryl Anne Dodson.”

“Cheryl Anne Dodson, hereafter Cheryl the Great, the Feared, the Powerful... you must simply survive the night without giving in to lustful temptation.”

“Lustful temptation?”

The other two heads visibly sighed as the human head pressed on. “Orgasm. Each time you succumb to the sweet, sinful pleasure of the body, a quarter part of your will and your soul will leak out and fall to my tender ownership. If the sun breaks the horizon and you find yourself in possession of any part of your soul, I will grant you your boon as best I can and watch delightedly as your magnificent, and illustrious intentions are made plain to the world. Do you agree, Cheryl Anne Dodson?”

“I do! I do!”

“Then, Cheryl Anne Dodson, release me that I may fulfill our contract!”

Cheryl felt the words of release yanked from her lips. The three heads chuckled as the demon’s form wreathed and slithered back upon itself, gradually shrinking back into the pewter statue. The horrible screams and torrential blowing decreased gradually as the creature shrank into stillness.

Cheryl collapsed on the ground, shaking, suddenly worn out.

Cheryl’s head started to ache almost immediately after the demon left and she had barely enough energy to crawl up the stairs. The tiles in her kitchen were warm compared to the cement downstairs. She pushed up towards the sink and flicked it on. The cool stream of tap water stung her lips.

Did that just happen?

She leaned against the counter and rested her forehead on the edge of the steel basin.

That didn’t just happen. No way.

She felt the little excited shivers again.

Yes. Yes it did.

In her mind she did her happy dance. Her body didn’t have the energy. It took a few minutes to slip to the floor and crawl up to her bed.

So now I’ll just sleep the night away... and in the morning, I’ll get to play...

A little grin played across her face. She didn’t bother taking her clothes off.

“Cheryl Anne Dodson, lay still.”

In her distorted sleep perception, Cheryl felt like the dream started right away. A very handsome, naked man walked into her room. Greek god was more like it. Her weakness passed over into the dream as well, keeping her head still as her eyes followed the intruder. A little voice in her mind insisted she was in trouble and should be screaming like crazy and going for the phone. The stranger sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hi, Cheryl Anne Dodson.” He smiled at her. It’s very perfection caught her breath and sent excited shivers through her chest. This was obviously one of those dreams. “A friend sent me to check on you tonight. Let’s get you out of these clothes.” He pulled the flannel PJ bottoms down her legs slowly, caressing as he went. “You have wonderful legs.” He slid them past her feet and reached up for her shirt. “Lift your hands above your head.” Cheryl was a little surprised that her body, so unwilling to follow her own commands, easily complied with this stranger’s wishes. He drew the top over her head and threw it off the side of the bed. “You are quite sensitive. This will feel exquisite.”

That little voice persisted, prattling on about how wrong this was and how she needed to be worried about such an overtly sexual dream with the conditions of her new found power. The rest of her tired mind found it easier to concentrate on the expanding vibration in her loins as the stranger gently ran his fingers over her exposed skin and up to her stiff nipples. She gasped as he pinched delicately and fondled her breasts.

This won’t count, will it? It’s a dream.

Cheryl closed her eyes and thrummed with his touches. The wonderful hands gently played her increasing desire while his lips kissed languorous notes on her neck.

“Spread your legs, Cheryl Anne Dodson.”

Again her body responded to his directions. The mattress squeaked as he slid between her legs. He tenderly kissed her lips as he positioned himself before her dripping pussy. His first strong thrust forced a moan from her. Her body responded with a rapid crescendo to his powerful beat. She quickly found herself singing this stranger’s praises. The climax burst upon her suddenly, deafening her thoughts in a tumultuous uproar of symphonic bliss. The will and soul spilling from her clenched sex each added their own beautifully bittersweet overtones that resonated inside the whole.

Her conscionsness slipped away as the furor faded.

Awareness came back slowly. Her thoughts were quiet next to the pleasant buzzing still in her mind. She stretched luxuriously in place and turned onto her side.

He was still there.

She blinked. Still there. Blinked again.

What just happened? Am I still dreaming?

The hum threatened to keep her torpid, but the little voice grew more insistent. It nagged about having only three left now. That sparked a little flame of thought that burned through the fog enough to focus on.

I need to do something here.

She shifted and swung a leg off the bed.

Call the cops.

She rolled and got the other leg over the edge.

Leave. Now.

As she pushed her torso up, strong hands caught her shoulders. “Now then. Cheryl Anne Dodson, you are not leaving yet. I’m not done with you.”

Cheryl found her body stopped responding. As she stayed still, the flame switched to icy panic and dropped through her stomach to settle tingling in her crotch.

What’s happening to me?

“Lie back down.” Cheryl did. The frigid tingles ran up her back and tickled the base of her neck. “Spread your legs.” One leg went off the bed this time as her body again granted this man access to its most intimate parts. “You are still very sensitive. Stay motionless and feel the heat of my breath.” The panic melted quickly as he blew on her clit. “Feel the heat of my tongue.” The licks made her pussy gush molten lava up through her chest, melting her mind.

It’s never been so good...

Her eyes rolled back as a finger slid in her sweltering sex and crooked upwards. The pressure built slowly inside her from his sensuous pace. Each languorous lick and swirl of his finger sent more lava from her pussy, straining her already weakened consciousness. It finally erupted in torrid pleasure that scorched her mind, burning passionately as more of her will and soul gushed out.

Her body sagged on the bed as her mind slipped into blackness.

Cheryl felt herself falling. She instinctively reached out and jammed her wrist against the floor. The pain jarred her awake as she rolled onto her side. Memories flooded in, crowding each other in the faint warm glow still left after...

Well, after the best sex she’d ever had. She’d never been that sensitive before or come that quickly. Or had it feel so damn good. Then realization set in.

Oh God, only two left. What’s happening here?

Her mind spun as she sorted through the events of the evening. Two fragmented recollections started pushing past the others. One sang exquisitely and the other burned blissfully, each as part of her leaked onto her bed. She wanted that again, now. The voice called out weakly to warn again that only two were left.

But now, part of her was working for that goal. It wanted to succumb and feel the rapture as quickly as possible.

Am I a junky? That quickly?

She looked up on the bed and saw a form resting there. Little tingly waves swept up from her crotch. She reached up to pull herself onto the bed.

Shit.

Forcing her hand back, she rolled onto her other side and pushed herself up. The willpower remaining in her was embattled at every step towards the bathroom, but she made it. A raging inferno of desire sang of delicious temptation as she turned on the shower. Cold. The freezing water calmed her down, quenching the fires and drowning the sound in an icy torrent. Her concentration revolved around not getting out and not turning on the hot water.

After a few minutes, she leaned against the rear wall, palms flat and arms stiff to hold her in the spray. The desire washed off her back and down the drain, unable to bear the dousing cold.

What do I do now? Leave, I guess? The window?

She turned her head to look through the shower curtain.

Can’t. That pervert Harold is over there. He’d probably have a heart attack if he saw me.

She smiled. The thought of screwing his old, frail body to death leapt to her mind and lead her back to her predicament.

Shit. I guess I’ll have to go back through the bedroom.

She sighed.

In a few minutes. I need to be ready when I face... him...

Her pussy twitched, remembering. She squeezed her thighs together. Panic welled again, drawing strength from the chilly shower. Thoughts of soothing that terror came unbidden, thoughts of using it as fuel for a tongue that would lap the cold water up and warm her soul. She shut her eyes, playing the scene in her mind. The frosty blast felt a little warmer.

And those hands... Exploring... Deep inside...

A lot warmer.

The voice yelled again about something half gone. The chill started to creep back in. The voice nattered on about hell and pain and losing her immortal soul. Something about losing, though, had lost its sting. Her pussy had a taste of losing and it liked it. A lot.

The water wasn’t cold anymore. In fact, she could’ve sworn someone had turned the handle towards hot. She looked over her shoulder.

He was there, reaching past the curtain to the control.

“Hi, Cheryl Anne Dodson. Leave your hands against the wall. Spread your legs a little more. Keep your ass up. Arch your back.” Her body moved again with a will of its own. Her crotch tingled with anticipation that fed on her fear. The voice in her mind was silent.

“Stay still.” She wasn’t sure he had to say it this time. He climbed in behind her. “Look at the wall.” She faced forward. His hands gripped her hips and he slid his erect member easily into her wet snatch. She moaned loudly as tides of pleasure swept through her and lapped at the edges of her mind. Each eroded her psyche further as they crept higher and higher. An inexorable tidal wave built in her crotch and swept up to engulf her in a torrent of ecstasy.

She drowned in the sweet intoxication of will and soul washing away in the flood.

The hard tub was uncomfortable. Fear, horror and panic were as well. The voice screamed at her to wake up but her waterlogged mind sloshed around slowly. One hand made it out of the tub, and then the other. She leaned over the edge for a bit with a silly smile on her face.

Too good for words.

Trepidation won out. She flopped out of the tub and onto her knees. She was alone in the bathroom.

Now what?

The same choices presented themselves. Out the window or through the bedroom.

Maybe I could lock myself in here?

She looked at the door and gave that up. It was flimsy.

Hell, I’d probably screw the knob off for him.

That made her laugh. Then go cold.

I better get out of here. Now.

She quietly stood up and snuck to the door. Cracking it a bit, she could just make out the stranger lying on his side, facing away.

Is he asleep?

She heard gentle snoring. Crouching, she pulled out into the bedroom and crept to the dresser. Briefly, she thought about going commando, but something nagged at her not to. Carefully she slid open her underwear drawer. The dim light in the room was barely enough for her to see. Her fingers felt satin with lace at the edges. She pulled the garment out, glanced quickly and then silently put the panties on. She reached back in and felt around until she found a lacy cup. It came out and the bra quickly covered her chest. A little naughty tingle sent her hand back in.

Hose. Stockings. A garter.

He rolled over.

She froze.

“Don’t stop on my account, Cheryl Anne Dodson. Please, continue. Put on those stockings and garters.”

There they were, lying in her open palms. Each matched the bra and panties she already had on. Her cunt flared and the voice wailed as she slipped the silk up her legs and clipped everything in place.

How did this happen to me?

She looked at him, fear, panic and desire in her eyes.

“All consuming lust.” He stood up facing her. “Look at the object of your desire, witch.” Her eyes riveted to his rock hard penis. “I will let you go if you can resist playing with yourself, Cheryl Anne Dodson.” Hysteria, lust, dread and desire all raged inside her, fighting for control. He stepped towards her. “A simple matter of not giving in.” Her loins sang a dark song of tempting submission while the voice scolded her for even thinking of anything but running out of the room right now. He came another step closer. “What you should do is will your hands not to rub any sensitive spots on your body, keep from masturbating yourself to willess, soulless, eternal servitude.” Heat from her crotch warmed the icy panic in her stomach. He stepped next to her. “Imagine your longing, your passion, your very own hands being the source of your doom.” A wave of desire crashed over her mind, sending one hand towards her panties and the other inside her bra. He ran his hands around her body, not quite touching. “Try not to think how sinfully delicious and intoxicating it was feeling your immortal soul leak out of your pussy tonight.” She circled her clit and pinched a nipple, her body trembling and almost collapsing. He smirked down at her. “You can choose, Cheryl Anne Dodson. Do you have enough will left to fight this? Or will you let your desire for such wicked euphoria be your undoing?” Gasping, she sped her hand up. It listened only to her clit’s craving for her decadent ruination.

She crumpled to the ground as she sang in the culminating flood of fiery lava. The euphoria of the last of her will and soul leaking out, of breaking the condition and losing her bargain, made her complete submission exquisite.

Any torment is worth this! Oh God!

The incubus laughed at the stupid, weak human as he watched the last of the immortal soul leak out and drip down to hell and it’s Master. A leash and collar poofed into his hands. “Come on, doggie. I have tricks for you to perform.”

Cheryl hiked her ass up higher for the camera. “Oh, baby, I want it so bad.” Her latest role suited her perfectly. “Harder, harder! Oooh oooh!” Lots of sex, then fucking, then more sex to top it off! “I love your big, thick cock in me!” She bucked as she came, not having to fake it for the camera. She never did. The thought of all those people that would be watching her leak out as they whacked off always did it for her. A little bit of their will, a little bit of their soul... It all felt so good.