The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

You never heard of me until today, I’m sure of it. No matter how much you think you know about The Occult, how many tomes on Demonology you held in your hands and read all the way through, there’s no way you ever came across my name. It’s not that the information on me is scarce or hard to find, but rather non-existent. History wants nothing with my very nature, and even Hell is ashamed of me.

You didn’t know me before, but now you do. My name is displayed up top for everyone to see and, even though it may seem hard to believe, - I know our kind isn’t known for its truthfulness! - please believe me when I say that the title attached to it is as real as it gets. I’m a submissive demon and, as far as I know, the last remaining one to boot.

Now, I know what you’re probably thinking: “Wow, the last of its kind, how original!”. However, originality has nothing to do with it, and I will not change what I perceive as a fact in my mind for the sake of a literary device. Ever since I came to be, I have only known two others with the same... inclinations, namely my brothers Serphomet and Slavistopheles. Alas, they’re no longer among us, having fallen prey to the exorcising wrath of the infamous Winchester Sisters, Samantha and Deanna, the cruelest hunters the world has ever seen. I hate them but I also love their unabashed dominance and, if they were to show up at my doorstep right now, I would probably drop to my knees to lick their boots clean, while begging for mercy. Bloodstains don’t come out easily, but my tongue does wonders, trust me.

Yes, I said “doorstep”. I live among your kind and have done so for the last four hundred and fifty-three years, two hundred and twelve days, nineteen hours, six minutes and forty-one seconds, not that I’m counting or anything. It’s been hard trying to stay hidden in plain sight, but a preferable alternative to the pile of smoldering heat they had waiting for me down in the netherworld. Some pessimists I met throughout the ages sometimes say that “Hell is a place on Earth”, but they’re wrong. Hell is its own thing, and far too twisted and impossible for someone like me. I hate it as much as it hates me, and I don’t want to go back... ever!

Just like everyone else, my life in this pale blue dot has had its fair share of ups and downs. The most annoying part is having to constantly relocate and change my identity so that humans don’t suspect of me when they realize I don’t grow older. Unlike many others out there, I’ve not been blessed with the gift of shape-shifting but, also unlike many others, I do possess a physical body of my own, and one pretty much everyone I meet finds somewhat irresistible. I’m the tall, handsome wet dream everyone wants to come true. Women want to do all sorts of things to my flesh and, while I don’t mind an occasional gathering of horny nymphs to blow off some semen, I’m submissive, and I’d rather lavish and worship all females like the Goddesses they are than have them prostrate before me. You understand, right?

Okay, I think that’s enough. I’ve given you plenty of insight about my person already, and now it’s time to tell you all about the most important time of my life. It was the day a mortal did the unthinkable and summoned me.

It happened on a Sunday morning, right around 8 am. I know that for certain because I always shower on Sundays at the same time. Even demons need routines to keep going, and this is one of mine. Now, the thing about a summoning is that is a completely compelling instrument for our kind. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we are doing. When the invocation begins, it pulls every atom in our existence into the magical conflagration being weaved. It shreds us to pieces and then re-materializes next to the summoner like one of those Star Trek transporter thingies. That’s what came to be, and right in the middle of my shower.

“What the fuck?” A confused voice rang in my ears as I landed in the center of a black and red pentagram, soap and shampoo dripping from my naked body.

“I could say the same thing...” I turned around and confronted the summoner, an early twenties brunette with round blue eyes, a silver nose ring almost falling into her thick upper lip, and juicy flesh cantaloupes trying to peek out from a bright blue ribbed crop top. She wore nothing from her waist down except a pair of same-colored satin panties. Height-wise, she couldn’t be more than five feet five, a far cry from my majestic six four, though it doesn’t matter much when we’re on our knees. I took a quick survey of the place we were in. It was a dorm of some kind, but I couldn’t recognize anything particular about it.

“Why are you naked?” She looked at me as if she had never seen an unclad fiend before.

“Why do you think?” I pointed at the wet patches of foam oozing on my skin, none of which were strategically placed to avoid embarrassment. Luckily, we don’t suffer from the same strange shrinking phenomenon that plagues ordinary human males. My dark shaft happily saluted her majesty and she beamed.

“I didn’t know demons showered.”

“And how many demons have you had the misfortune of knowing to this day?” I retorted, the cheeky, bratty part of me eager to play.

“You’re my first.” She shrugged.

“A virgin conjurer... That explains it. Would it be too much trouble to ask you for a towel, please?”

“Not at all.” She threw a fluffy pink rag at me. It smelled of lavender, honey, and pussy squirt, quite the delicious trifecta. I began cleaning myself as she examined me from top to bottom. It wasn’t the first time someone looked at me like I was livestock. I was already used to the twisted attention, and I even posed for a moment or two.

“I have to say you’re not what I expected at all.” She noted after she finished her lustful survey.

“Well, expectations have a sad habit of not conforming to reality... Surely you already knew that.”

“You look so... human. Are you really the demon Subzebub?”

“I am. And you are...?”

“I’m not telling you my name.”

“Why not? You know mine.”

“Because if I do, you’ll gain ascendancy over me. Isn’t that how this works?”

“Not really. You summoned me and now I’m trapped here. You can be Jennifer, Vanessa, or whatever... it doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, yet another reason not to tell you anything.”

“Fair point. May I call you Linda so I can have a name to go with the face at least?”

“No, you may not.”

“How about Yvonne? I love that one. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Seriously? I like Linda better.” She frowned.

“It’s settled then. Hello, Linda, it’s a pleasure to meet you even though I’m a bit exposed right now.”

“A pleasure to meet you too, I guess.” She shook her head, befuddled at my courteousness. “Wow, are all demons as polite as you?”

“No, they’re absolutely not. Many would try to look for a way out right now and possibly rip a hole down your spine for the audacity of invoking them. I’m a special breed. I’m also curious.”

“About what?”

“I’ve never been summoned by a human before. Would you be so kind to tell me how you came across my name to perform the ritual?”

“Oh... I found it over there...” and she looked at a half-open laptop resting on the lower half of the bunk bed behind her. From where I was standing, I could see a bright green website from the 90s, the kind of flashy abomination you try hard to forget it was ever real. It was entitled “Compendium of Evil - an all-encompassing list of devils to do your dirty work for you.” Besides my own, I recognized a handful of names in it, some of which were way out of any regular human’s league. It was the corniest and funniest shit I had ever seen.

“Well, that’s new...” I muttered, my torso almost dried. “I still have no idea how they got that info, but never mind. I’m surprised that of all the names in it, you had to go for mine, though.”

“You weren’t my first choice.”

“But the first that worked?”

“Yes.”

“Flattering to hear. So what do you want, Linda? What dirty deed do you want me to perform so you can pretend to keep a clear consciousness when all it’s said and done?”

Her eyes lit up as she circled my geometric predicament. “Does that mean you’ll do it? You’ll do what I ask because I summoned you?”

“I’ll do what I have to in order to get out of this prison - nice design, by the way! - and get back to my shower. I’m not a wishing machine, but if it’s nothing too fancy, I’m sure I can hook you up. What do you need?”

“Revenge.” She spat the word as if spewing venom.

Ah, of course, the petty desire of retaliation for past grievances your lot loves so much to the point of often not remembering what it this they’re supposedly trying to avenge. I’m not saying we’re above it - we are not! - but we go for it on our own without relying on supernatural outside forces. After I finished drying myself, I wrapped the towel around my hanging cock and asked:

“Against whom? Parents? Teachers? Best friend? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“A bitch that stole my man. Her name is Amanda Jenkins and I want her dead.”

“Dead, huh? That’s as serious as it gets. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Positive. She’s a two-faced, conniving vixen that gets off on ruining relationships. She crossed a serious line when she interfered with mine. She has to pay.”

“I have no doubt you feel that way, but I have to be perfectly clear: if you’re yearning for such a decisive action, you better try your luck with another demon. I don’t do death.”

“But you just said you would do what I wanted! I...” Her voice faltered ever so slightly before thundering in with unexpected vibrato. “I command you to obey me, Subzebub.”

Oh fuck! She used both the “c” and the “o” word in the same sentence, two delicious morsels of letters that make me all tingly. If you have never had someone utter them on your ears, melting your little pink brain into oblivion, you have no idea what you’re missing. All my muscles twitched, the dark hairs on my arms and legs shivering. All submissives yearn to obey. Linda had just triggered my one weakness without even knowing it.

“I have no wish to go against you, but we’re talking about the most drastic of affairs, here. There’s no coming back from this. Was her offense really so bad to turn you into a cold-blooded murderer for the rest of your life?”

“I won’t be a murderer if you take care of her for me, will I?”

“Murder by proxy is still murder, and I already said I don’t kill. Never have. Never will. Besides, there are far more inventive ways to exact revenge on another.”

“Like what?”

“Please, undo the pentagram and I’ll tell you.”

“You think I’m stupid?” She laughed to herself. “The moment I do that, you’ll run away and leave me hanging, or worse, attack me on the spot!”

“I’m a fan of the first possibility, the second not so much. However, you have my word none of them will come to pass if you trust me on this, ‘Linda’, so... please?”

She shook her head and sat in the bed, bare feet suspended mid-air. Her eyes were on the verge of tears. “There you go being all polite again! God, that’s so weird!”

“Special breed, remember? You look like you need a friend right now. Can I be one, preferably without traps to keep me bound?”

“Does it hurt being inside the pentagram?”

“I wouldn’t say hurt, but it’s kind of itchy. I’m also getting cold being in the nude, so... again... please?”

“Oh, fine!” She threw her arms in the air and jumped my way. Her left foot pirouetted around my prison before smudging the red chalk border that held the incantation together.

“Thank you.” I said as I vanished before her eyes.

Now, before you say anything, no, I didn’t break the promise I had made, for Loyalty is a thing even down below. I didn’t escape, merely transported myself to my house to put on some fresh clothes and then returned to her location. It took me about a second, a single blink of her gorgeous eyes.

“You were naked just now...” She mumbled before adding: “I liked you better that way.”

“I know, but this is more comfortable for both of us.” I replied.

There was hardly anything special about my wardrobe. Purple T-shirt, worn-out jeans, a golden college ring from the last time I pretended to be a student. My quarterback days were over for the time being, but I would do it again before the Earth claimed me.

“Thank you once again for setting me free.” I sat next to her.

“Thank you for not running away.”

“I’m a demon of honor. Ready to hear about how I can serve you?”

“I am.” Her entire face irradiated warm, soothing light.

“What do you know about demonic possession?”

“That’s really a thing?”

To answer her question, yes. And to answer yours, yes, despite having an actual physical body, I can still invade other people. For you see, my essence and I are two different things altogether. While they coexist in perfect harmony inside this hump of meat, I can separate them while remaining the same. The metaphysical ramifications elude me, and trying to discern the intricacies of its principles is even more useless than a time-waster reaching out to a Domme. There are many ways in which I can project a part of me to take hold of another, and even more points of entry. Eyes and ears seem to be everyone’s favorite, but submissives love pussy and ass. I’ll take a hairy cunt or a wide open derriere any day of the week.

I told her the devious plan that I had just concocted to see her smile. She listened and nodded, one incomplete sentence after another drizzling from her pink tongue. There was a small hole in it, probably from another piercing she had once loved. It was healing nicely.

“So you’re thinking about going...?” She muttered.

“Yes.”

“And then do...?”

“Yes.”

“So that the...?”

“Yes. What do you think?”

“I think you’re a genius.”

“Good. Any more questions?”

“Just one.” She said, hugging me like I was already part of her family. “When do we start?”

The answer to that was the next day. I needed to do a little digging and also get ready for the possession process, for it’s not as automatic as you think it is. Going all in extenuates even the most skilled of us, and my experiences in the subject hadn’t always been consistent. Real dominion doesn’t happen from simply burrowing our way into a vessel’s soul. The trick is staying there long enough to enact the changes we want to see, something we can’t do unless our focus is in the right place. Every mind has its own set of defenses and barriers, a spiritual version of antibodies that react to any invading presence whether it is real or simply imagined. I was sure Amanda had plenty of those waiting in store, judging by the cruel tales Linda told me about her.

If a broader picture is necessary, then here it is: Amanda Jenkins was a teacher’s aide at Dartmouth College, the same institution Linda and her former beau, Jackson, attended. Two years older than Linda, she was an imposing six feet two bombshell of Scandinavian ascent whose family controlled most of New Hampshire’s educational technology businesses. Unconfirmed rumors placed her IQ at 139. Anyone with a fishnet fetish loved her and, to a less extent, so did fans of shiny clothes. On rare occasions, she would grace the campus with a combination of both, making heads turn and almost roll to the floor.

Flamboyant? Check. Mean-Spirited? Check as well. Besides her assistant duties, she had gained quite the reputation as an informal counselor with a lot of reach in the institution. Students that came to talk to her often ended up revealing dark secrets for no apparent reason, tidbits of information she would gladly explore to get her way, just for fun. Jackson had been one, worried that his reputation and grades would plummet if a hidden Futa porn addiction came out in the open. Amanda made sure of the opposite, in exchange for a year of fuckery after dumping Linda’s ass. Now, he was one more number in her ever growing stable of devoted bitches in what I can only describe as a true demonic deal with none of our kind involved. Impressive! I wondered what would it be like to succumb to her, too, perhaps have a giant dildo staring me in the face, and then I wondered no more because the mission was something else, and I would not betray my summoner.

Monday morning, I was eager to go, all thoughts clear, body fully rested. After meeting with Linda in her dorm again, I sat by the bathroom door, legs crossed, and asked:

“Ready?”

“Yes, but this is sounding like more astral projection than possession to me. Do I really need to look after your body? I have classes today!”

“They will have to wait if you want your payback. I will be vulnerable during the entire event. Do you want to risk me dying before completing the assignment?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Then you’ll keep watch while I pay Amanda a visit she will never forget.”

“How will I know when you’re... you know... flying around?”

“It’s impossible not to know, trust me. Just promise me you won’t scream.”

“Okay.” She crossed her fingers. It was a vain hope anyway because even I would shriek if I saw it happening for the first time.

“You might want to step away from me, now.” I said, hands clutched against my chest, eyes closed to the mortal world, yet open to the endlessness of the universe. I took a single deep breath and then...

... exhaled myself straight into the depths of everything, a pulsating black orb flung out of my shell. The flesh it was attached to rippled and wobbled, hardened wrinkles stretching out before collapsing into a rubbery puddle. I loved that body more than anything, so it was a shock to see it crumple, a deflated mask for whom life was a strange concept. Before me, the nacreous lines of all realities intersected one another, a busy network of dimensions, possibilities, and afterthoughts. Space meant nothing within the hodgepodge of shimmering trails, and Time circled into itself to devour all gravity. I rode the mystic snake until the end of my world and the beginning of Amanda’s until both became one.

The assistant was entering her office on the ground floor when the disorienting sensation flared. I pushed myself up her legs like a diamond corkscrew, deeper, deeper, harder. She gasped for air the moment the front door swung open, books flying from her knotty hands, prismatic key-ring twirling above her head.

“Fuck...” She moaned when I slowly crawled out to thrust myself anew, invisible energy tendrils kissing her damp labia three times in a row. Amanda’s feet spun out of control, like a ballerina who had forgone universal training in favor of haphazard improvisation. Ferragamo high heels scratched the varnished wooden boards on the floor, and her professorial navy blue pencil skirt pushed hard against her clammy legs.

“What is this?” She queried, my cue for the brainwashing regime to start.

Truth, I said, the voice of my incursion perfectly replicating her own. I have a truth for you. Listen.

Amanda clenched her teeth as she stumbled behind the desk, muffled moans dying to break free.

Everything in life is made of little things, small moments dictate the most important moments of who we are and who we hope to be. Maximizing pleasure while avoiding discomfort is a tenet we strive for, but if we only take in account our pleasure, then it’s a selfish one. You’re selfish, Amanda. You’ve been selfish since the day you were born.

The teacher’s aide writhed next to the chair as my essence pumped harder, an imaginary cock with the speed and force of ten thousands of racing engines perfectly synced. I dug a hole beyond her pussy and straight into the nervous center of her drooping soul, a web of synapses burning red with delight.

Selfishness is the death of true freedom, for pleasure exists to be shared. No one is born to live for their own gain but to fuel the passions of others through one thing and one thing alone. The only truth of this world and all that will follow is submission.

Amanda’s right hand reached for the seat of the chair, trying to stand up. Horizontal was better, a humbling position for a weakening mind. I exploded into the first orgasm, exerting monumental pressure on her chest, arms and legs. Unable to fight it, she whimpered.

You have brought submission to others so that they could keep you appeased. Isn’t it time to give it back, pay it forward to the ones whose lives you took extreme satisfaction in ruining? Speak not of the wondrous ache you will feel when you submit, but rather act on it. Be it. Be the submission you expect from others. The Bitch with a capital B dies today. Become amanda. Become just one more bitch.

“Hmmm...” I heard her hum. Words were already failing her spirit, and the resistance I had hoped to encounter was nowhere to be seen. My onslaught had taken her by surprise and I love a good surprise! An image of Linda made its way from my core into hers, her beautiful face etched in her spongy brain.

Be that for her. You love her. You’ve always loved her with all your heart. You love her, amanda.

“Hmmm... yes.”

You love her so much that the thought of not being a bitch for her is a travesty that hurts your senses. This can’t be. You can’t allow it to happen.

“Oh... no.”

You would do anything to be close to her right now. You would do anything to hear her say ‘come to me, my little bitch.’ You will do anything to make it a reality, one you will never, ever wish to be deprived of.

“Definitely...” She squirmed, diamond in, diamond out, the unrelenting force of all the dicks in the world ramming her silly. “Oh fuck, that feels so good!”

It feels good because it is so. Your pleasure is her pleasure, and enslavement, your badge of honor. You will be a bitch forever because you already are one. She is your Mistress. Obey!

“Mis...”

She is your Mistress. Obey!

“She is my Mistress...” She spasmed, juicy fountains erupting between her legs.

Find your Mistress and obey. You know where she is. Go to her now. Obey!

“Yes, I will...” amanda, the bitch, mewled as she finally found the strength to stand up. “I will obey.”

That’s a good bitch, I jolted her beaver one last time before releasing her. For a moment, that overpowering part of me floated above her ecstasy-filled gaze before she scurried off through the campus’ corridors, an animal in heat whose libido would not falter until she worshiped at her new owner’s feet. Linda’s image shone inside me as well, its truth reverberating at the innermost recess of my primeval needs. Depleted, I drifted back into the void of substance, happy to let go completely. I would have stayed there floating forever, had she not called out to me.

“Sub, are you there?”

Sub... what a glorious nickname coming from the one I loved more than anything in the world. In the thrill of the moment, I had just brainwashed myself to be hers too, and it was wonderful!

“Sub, come to me.”

Yes, Linda. Yes, Mistress. I will follow your voice until I can bask in your power again. I’m coming. Wait for me...

My essence spun and convulsed into a mushroom cloud of acquiescence. Next thing I knew, my physical body welcomed my presence in the perfect reverential position. I kneeled before her, unable to move.

“What are you doing?” She asked, arching toes waving back and forth before my enraptured self.

“Acknowledging your undeniable superiority. I’m a special breed, Linda. I’ve been submissive since forever. I am completely submissive to you.”

“Are you really?” She giggled. “Fuck, no wonder you were so keen to help me out even after I set you free, but what am I going to do with you, huh?”

“Whatever you wish.”

“Have you taken care of Amanda for me?” She chirped.

“The bitch is on her way here, eager to adore you just like I am.”

“And you’re sure the mental transformation is permanent, just like you said?”

“It is. A part of me now grows inside her. It’s like a parasite infecting her thoughts. She will never break free from it, not as long as I’m alive. It is impossible for a mere human to resist its effects.”

“Why, isn’t that wonderful?” My Mistress rejoiced. “You did great, Sub... I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mistress. Nothing makes me happier than your approval of my humble efforts to serve you.”

“Can you do that again?“ She suddenly asked. “Use your essence to convert others to do my bidding if I so demand?”

“Yes, Mistress. I can and I will, if you so desire.”

“Ah, now this is what I call starting a week with the right foot! My first bitch and a thrall-generating demon battery at my beck and call! Sub, you just made me a very happy woman!”

Joyful words, unforgettable bliss! I reveled in them until a disheveled bleached blonde rushed inside to slobber all over her toes. I mimicked her to the sound of Linda’s endless amusement.

You didn’t know me before, but now you do. My name is displayed up top for everyone to see, though it is possible Linda will change it to something else, soon. I still don’t know her true moniker and, perhaps, I never will. It’s not important when titles like Mistress, Goddess, and Owner echo like a perfect melody inside my spellbound ears. I’m lost in her control, no memories except the ones she chooses for me. This is who I am, this is who I will never stop being. Other demons shun Heaven, but I found mine, and my tongue is even more useful, now.

Tomorrow, I’ll be reminding Jackson of his true station in life, as per my deity’s request. He’ll love her more than he ever loved anyone before, and so will you.