The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Michael had received something special from his uncle, but he did not find out until years later. By then, Michael was 26, had a nice job as an accountant, a comfortable flat, and everything he could hope for, except for one thing.

Peace.

His girlfriend, Moira, kept on nagging him.

It began two years prior: she would suggest he had to apply more, or to work more hours, or to work less hours and spend more time with her. She would suggest he would change his clothes. She would suggest he stop playing with his friends and find a real past-time, something that could advance his career.

Michael tried. He tried and succeeded to climb the corporate ladder, and though he hit the crystal ceiling somewhere in the middle of his road, he found where he was homely enough. He tried to find better friends in the business landscape, and a few of them he did find. He worked less, but smarter. He had reduced his amount of due hours to fifty in the week so that he could go on a beach trip together with Moira.

For some reason that kept escaping Michael, it was never enough.

That morning, Moira had stormed off his flat, her black hair waving after her. She had insulted him, hit him on the cheek—she might have manicured nails but it did sting—and called her girl-friends to pick her up and take her away from her ‘loser’ of a boyfriend.

Michael looked at Moira’s friends as they escorted her on a white car, soon speeding through traffic. It disappeared behind a corner and that was that.

Michael knew it. he would soon be Moira’s former boyfriend if he didn’t step up his game.

But it was getting tiring. He had tried everything in his power, or so he believed, to give her everything she could ever desire. Moira worked as a part-time bartender in the city, and she didn’t make one third of Michael’s paycheck. Most of the money she earned was quickly lost in new clothes, shoes, cosmetics and whatever.

Michael felt lost. Stuck in a rut, a situation there was no way he could escape. He could just break up then and there. His face contorted in a grin for a moment at the thought of Moira coming back home, and finding all her stupid stuff piled out in front of the door, the key changed, and Michael starting his new bachelor life with a beer in each hand.

Yes, Michael might have, for once in his life, showed some balls and taken control of his destiny.

What happened was completely different.

Michael remembered about Uncle Carl, that was what happened.

Uncle Carl, Michael reminisced as he searched his closet, was an odd guy. He had a side job as a writer, though nobody could remember what his last book was about. His main source of income seemed to be related to perfumes or cosmetic or something like that, but there was no way to inquire further. He was always talking about odd stuff like alchemy and pentacles and other crap like that. Uncle Carl was a generous person, though. He never forgot birthdays, Christmas or Thanksgiving, and was always there with a new shining present. His presents were always odd, something you’d never expect. Something like a small mechanical turtle, a book on extinct shells. Things like that.

And yet, for all the apparent junk they were, every one of those presents always found a way to turn out useful.

For example, Michael was reading that book on shells when he first met Moira in the metro. She struck him immediately with her Latin curves, her full lips, her deep black eyes and shining dark hair. She was a creature of lust and passion, and one that would rock his world to the core.

Moira had been such a creature, once. The nagging, the increasing demands only began when she moved together with him.

There it was. Hidden under his stash, there was a small, unassuming box. Inside, Michael found uncle Carl’s last present.

It was an iron ring. A simple band, with a small white stone—not a diamond, Uncle Carl had explained him—in the middle. The iron surface had been hand-crafted with exquisite images of trees, animals and nature. It was a beautiful ring, though the iron depreciated it a lot.

Uncle Carl had said that this ring could help him if he gave it to the person he was afraid of losing in a relationship. The ring was supposed to activate a true bond, or something like that. He only had to give it to this person, and things would solve themselves.

Michael was not one to believe in magic.

But he believed in Uncle Carl.

A few hours later, the so-called Uncle Carl, also known as the Medicine Man by those who used his formidable magic elixirs, stopped reading in his laboratory. He closed the book, attracted by a blinking red light on a panel. It was just one of many alchemical panels in his laboratory. The room’s walls were covered by rows upon rows of bottles, some of them empty, some of them filled with swirling liquid, each of them a different colour, each of them used for a different end. They all had been labelled with a number and a designation. For example, one read #176—Nordic Nympho, another #232—Slutty Secretary and so on and so forth. It seemed Uncle Carl’s craft answered to very special clients, with very special tastes.

“Ah, my good boy Michael,” Uncle Carl said in his baritone voice as he opened the alchemical panel. It quickly informed him of the dire situation his favourite nephew (actually the Medicine Man had a couple dozen favourite nephews, but that’s a long story) was in, a situation shared by many, too many, of his customers in fact.

That might also be a good thing though: it meant the solution was easy. One could say—the Medicine Man chuckled at his own wit—it could be at hand’s reach.

Uncle Carl spent a couple times looking for the right elixir. It was clear that this Moira girl his favourite nephew fell in love with displayed some of the more unsavoury sides of her female nature. Also, Michael clearly had a thing for Latinas. Uncle Carl didn’t usually work with Latinas, most of his customers preferring another particular look, but these last few years there had been indeed an increase in demand. The Medicine Man, as always, delivered, with his own personal twist.

“There, there, this will do nicely,” he commented as he chose the elixir.

#658—Narco Nina.

Michael was sleeping on the couch that night. When Moira came home, he gave her the ring as a way to apologize. She appreciated it, and Michael enjoyed some respite... until dinner. Moira had announced matter-of-factly that he was to sleep on the couch tonight, alone. That would teach him some manners.

Michael was looking at his phone, browsing social media to keep his mind occupied. If Uncle Carl’s gift didn’t help him this time, he didn’t know what he’d do. Kick Moira out of his house felt a bit too much, though it might prove necessary.

But he ought to have faith in his old uncle.

Back in Moira’s—that would be Michael’s—room, she had long since fallen asleep. The new ring still adorned her finger. It seemed to hum in the dark room. With a low hiss of subtle release, a thin golden mist began to come out of the stone on top. It lingered around Moira’s body, almost as if it was being absorbed by her body. Usually the Medicine Man’s clients were asleep, and secured to a chair to allow the magical aerosol to turn their mind and bodies in the desired form. But this time, with the ring he had fashioned and given Michael, there would be need of something more fast-acting. Something a little stronger.

Moira stirred as the golden mist coated completely her body. If Michael entered the room now, he’d see his girlfriend completely obscured to sight, blissfully ignorant to the changes that were beginning to appear.

First, the mist cleaned each and every blemishes present on Moira’s body. Her tanned skin lost every mole, every hesitant black head that Moira’s own care hadn’t defeated, leaving her with a glistening, extremely smooth skin, the kind of which one only sees in commercials.

Then the elixir began its true work. Slowly, Moira’s legs lengthened, adding a couple inches to her height. Her feet shifted on the bed to accommodate her newfound height, given most of it was in her legs now. Then her midsection and hips flared. Moira already possessed the blueprints for a large butt in her genetics, but the elixir was rewriting those genetics and pushing them into overdrive. Moira’s hips grew until they dramatically contrasted with her waist, which was instead thinning, giving her an exaggerated hourglass figure that oozed sex. Then it was the turn of Moira’s ass. It began to swell, turning rounder and firmer, a combination of more natural fat and years of exercise. She rose slightly on the bed as her ass finished swelling, its contours now clearly visible even under the sheets.

It was now the turn of her stomach. Her abs hardened, to give her a toned tummy. The golden mists then went to hug and cover her breasts, which at first expanded on their own, giving her a cup more, maybe two. Moira had started with a nice B cup and now she’d find herself with a large C, maybe a D on a good day.

But the mist was not done. It seeped inside her breasts, changing them... adding something the Medicine Man had explicitly thought it would be appreciated by his favourite nephew. Moira seemed the kind of girl who could show off a little more up top. He breasts enlarged even more as something grew inside them. An inert, inorganic mass, shaping her breasts to be rounded, spherical, perkier than they could be in nature. Moira was getting a surgery-free boobjob, turning her natural Cs, maybe Ds, into a spectacular pair of E cups. The silicone implants rested proudly on her chest, thought her breasts still possessed some of the natural drop Moira’s large amounts of natural fat provided.

There would be no denying they were augmented, but they were appropriate to her body and to her enlarged ass, giving her a sort of carnal symmetry that was sure to prove exciting.

The mist then moved to her face: it gently tucked her nose slightly back and up, giving her a doll-like button nose that accentuated her large eyes. Her lips plumped up, thickening to give her some cushioning for when she was sucking Michael’s dick.

The last changes were internal: the mist tightened her pussy and gave her with a pair of much more sensitive nipples, ass and clit. Now a strong breeze would be enough to send Moira into overdrive.

Having finished pushing her body to the required specifics, the golden mist moved to the final part of its job and entered Moira’s mind, making a few changes here and there...

Michael woke up. There was something in the room with him.

He could not see well in the darkness, and sleep’s cobwebs still huddled his mind. He turned the nightlight on... and stood transfixed.

In front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It was Moira... except she couldn’t be Moira. She was taller than Moira, having at least four inches on her, and all of them in her long, luscious legs. She had her hands on her sides, showing off her large breasts. They were a bit too perky and round to be completely natural. Her face, too, was different: her lips were thicker. A pink tongue darted out to lick at them as she leaned forward and slowly crawled on the couch with him.

“Hello, lover,” she said. It was Moira’s voice, tinged with just a hint more of Spanish accent that made her only the more interesting. The way her ass wobbled as she moved atop him... her large tits in front of his face... the sheer desire and love in her black eyes. “Sorri I have been such a beetch to you today. I want to make up. Want to make up with Moira?”

“I... what...” Michael’s stunned gaze fell upon Moira’s left hand. Atop her finger, the iron ring shone.

Ah, good Uncle Carl.

Michael chuckled. If only he’d know where the man holed himself up these days, he’s go to thank him.

“Of course, Moira,” Michael said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I want to make up. We’re going to be happy together now, right?”

Moira’s relieved smile shone like a thousand watts as she hugged Michael, pressing her enhanced breasts against his chest.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you, mi amor! We’re going to be happy forever together!”

She kissed him on the lips, deeply, her new, thicker lips doing wonders against his own.

And soon enough, they did wonders on his dick, too...

Uncle Carl let out a relieved sigh as he saw the red light on his alchemical panel going from red to green. Everything had gone well. Michael would now have a beautiful girlfriend who was respectful and enhanced in many other ways. He wondered how he would feel when he found out Moira’s new, supercharged libido and her modified pussy, able to milk his dick in...

The green light on the panel blinked, then exploded in a shower of sparks.

Uncle Carl let out a small cry of surprise, laughed. It looked like Michael found out soon enough.