The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Leonora looked around her.

This had to be the wrong place. She’d never seen a house like this in her life— it was way too big. It was bigger than houses had any right to be, especially for just one person. She was looking for the home of an acquaintance she didn’t know all that well— she thought this was the right address.

But when she looked up at the house through her car window, she couldn’t help but feel that it was not. There was a sinking feeling in her gut telling her to restart the car and go home. She’d made a mistake somewhere along the way— there was something in this house that was not for her, and she should turn back while she could.

She didn’t restart the car. She didn’t turn away. Instead, with the help of her car’s front overhead lighting, she squinted back down at the address she’d scrawled on the piece of paper. 111 Quince Avenue— there, at the crest of that hill, and the end of that driveway— 111 Quince Avenue.

Alright then. She would get out, walk up the path, and knock on the door.

She wasted no more time thinking about it, got out of the car, and started the walk up the drive.

It was only as she was going up that she noticed she wasn’t alone— there were other people moving toward the house, in pairs and small groups. Maybe there was a party here tonight.

It didn’t make any difference to her. She was only here to ask Vera a question, and then she’d be on her way.

Leonora thought nothing more of the other visitors to the house as she walked; at least, not until a few minutes later, when she noticed they were all wearing the same kind of black masquerade mask on the upper part of their faces.

A masked party? A masquerade party? Leonora wracked her mind for a second, looking for any scrap of information about Vera that might line up with what she was seeing now. But she really didn’t know the woman. Had only met her in passing a few times— but the last time she’d seen her out around the town, Vera had given her a dessert recipe at the tail end of a conversation the two of them had struck up about cooking. Leonora was only getting around to making it now, and it was only tonight that she realized she’d written one of the instructions down wrong. She only needed clarification on that one instruction— then she could be on her way again.

But besides being a friendly neighbor to chat with, out on the town— Leonora knew nothing about Vera. Maybe throwing masquerade parties was a regular thing for her.

She’d almost gotten to the front door of the house when someone called out from behind her.

“Hello there,” — it was a woman’s voice.

Leonora turned back to look, but there was nothing distinct to see. One more figure wearing a black masquerade mask, and otherwise dressed in formal clothing.

“Hello,” Leonora said, not wanting to be rude. She stopped walking and waited for the woman to catch up to her. “I’m only here to ask the host a quick question, and then I’m—“

“Did you forget to cover yourself?” The woman asked, as if Leonora had not spoken.

“I’m sorry?” Leonora looked on at the woman in confusion.

“You know what happens to us all once we cross the threshold— I have an extra covering. You can have it. I have many more.”

“I’m sorry, I still don’t—“ The other woman finished digging inside her purse, and came back from it with one more black mask in her hand. “Oh, I’m not here to participate, I’m just here to ask—“

“Just make sure you put it on before you cross the threshold,” the woman said, uncaring, leaving the black mask in Leonora’s hands as she resumed her walk to the front door.

Leonora looked down at the mask she’d been left with. It couldn’t hurt to wear it, at least until she found Vera and asked her to clarify the recipe. She slipped the covering on.

It rested comfortably over the bridge of her nose, covering her eyes but leaving her plenty of room to see. She took the last few steps up to the front door too, but it was already open, and all the people who had been coming up the long were entering the house through it.

Her hope of knocking on the door and having Vera open it for her was dashed. No one was there to receive the guests, and they all just went streaming in. She’d have to enter, too, and find Vera inside somewhere. Maybe, with such a big house, Vera had a house staff who could direct her.

Leonora let herself be swept up with the entering crowd of guests, all wearing black coverings like she was. They swept her in the front door, and kept her going down the entrance hall, which eventually gave way to a large, high-ceilinged room which reminded Leonora most of a ballroom— though she had never personally been in a ballroom before.

When they reached that wide open room all together, the crowd of guests fanned out to leave room for more to enter. Leonora looked around eagerly for someone who might be a member of the house staff. She didn’t see any likely candidates, so instead, she stepped a little closer to one of the other guests.

“Vera is hosting this party, right? Do you know where she is?”

“Who’s Vera?” The guest said back.

Leonora suppressed a shiver. “Vera— the woman who owns this house. This is one eleven Quince Street, isn’t it?”

“This is one eleven Quince Street North,” the guest clarified.

Leonora felt her blood chill. There must have been an ’N’ after the street name she had not seen on the street sign, in the dark. This wasn’t Vera’s house— she had no idea whose house this was—she was in the wrong place. Where the hell was she? She hadn’t even known her town had repeating street names in its North End.

She had to get back outside again.

“I’m in the wrong place— sorry—“ Leonora said, as she tried to make her way back down the hall she’d come from. She said it because there were so many people still coming in— she kept bumping into them, a fish against the current, and she said it by way of apology.

But no matter how she tried to break through the incoming crowd of guests, she couldn’t get back on her way to the door. The incoming stream of guests gave her no opportunity for return, and no one seemed to care when she told them she needed to get back to her car.

At last, one of the incoming guests took her by the arm. “Sorry, sister. We all know the rules. Once we cross the threshold, we do not return outside until the end of the night. Whatever you’ve forgotten will have to wait.”

Leonora couldn’t be sure, but she thought that perhaps the same woman who’d given her the mask had somehow found her again; though she wasn’t sure if the woman recognized her, or even if she were right that it was the same woman.

This was a case of mistaken identity, now. They all thought she was a guest who belonged here— but she didn’t. It had been an honest mistake; confusing a main street and a north one, but who could she explain that to, now? There were still no staff around— only guest after guest after guest filling this strange ballroom-like space.

And what was that ominous thing she’d heard twice, now, about crossing the threshold? Since she hadn’t been invited, she was technically a party crasher. Maybe the real hosts of the party looked down on that. As long her upper face partly covered, she would seem just like any other guest— so she should be safe from any prospective punishment or retribution for party crashing as long as she stayed covered up. And maybe, still covered this way, she could maneuver her way back down the front hall to the door, and make it back outside.

It was a fine plan— but it wasn’t getting anywhere as long as this woman still had her arm linked through Leonora’s. She hadn’t removed it yet— as long as her arm was linked in through Leonora’s, Leonora wasn’t going anywhere.

Leonora tried shifting her arm around to get it free— but the woman held firm, and didn’t even seem to notice Leonora’s movements. Why did she have her arm linked through? Maybe she had recognized Leonora after all, and didn’t want to let her out of her sight. For some reason. Leonora couldn’t guess what it might be.

Leonora gave up after a minute more. There were still guests coming in. As long as that stream of attendees was flowing in, there was no point in getting free, anyway. The hallway would still be blocked to her.

Finally, the entry of guests slowed, until no more were coming in. Leonora resumed her attempts to free her arm, but they were ignored.

The guests, all dressed up in their formal clothes, had fanned out into the shape of a circle. They were all standing silently now, as if they were waiting for something. Waiting for what? Leonora didn’t let herself be distracted by such questions. She kept pulling against the grip of the other woman who was still a stranger to her.

The silence of the guests was almost eerie. At a gathering of this size, some amount of chatter would be expected. But there was none.

It seemed like the appropriate moment for some host to step up, and direct the event, but no such host appeared.

The circle was closed; the circle was wide, big enough that the people at the far end of it from where Leonora stood looked a little smaller and more indistinct, from all the way over there. Leonora let her struggling cease; all the rest were standing silently. If she wanted to blend in, and avoid a party crasher’s punishment (whatever it might be) the smartest thing for her to do now was to still herself and wait for a more convenient opportunity to escape. Maybe, at some point, when the party was underway, the woman next to her would drop her arm.

One of the women directly across from Leonora’s position in the circle stepped forward, leaving a gap in the form behind her. As soon as she had moved to stand in the center, the circle shifted in to close behind her so she could not step back out of it.

Leonora expected her to speak— at last, this must be the host, with some kind of explanation or direction to give. But the woman said nothing. Instead, she raised her hands to her eye mask, and lifted it from her face.

The change that came over her was immediate. She relaxed where she stood, all parts of her body becoming loose and light. Without the mask over her eyes, her features were plainly visible, and as such it was possible to see that they were absolutely vacant. Her mouth gaped— her eyes stared vapidly. There was no other word for it— she looked blank.

But she still held the mask she’d removed in her hand.

The woman who’d gone first went on standing there, staring at nothing. No one else seemed to think this was strange, so Leonora kept it from showing on her face that she did.

“You all remember,” the woman spoke at last. “We’ve all passed the threshold into this house— and we all obey the house’s rules. Those with their coverings on are conscious— those with their coverings off are in the unconscious sleep of obedience, going deeper and deeper… let us each take our coverings off, one by one around the circle until we are all uncovered. So we may all have a first sampling of trance’s delights. Then those of us who feel it right may put their coverings back on to become aware again; and the night will progress from there.”

The woman to the right of the first took her covering off on this cue. She became similarly limp and loose in place— her eyes equally vacant, her mouth equally gaping, almost as if she had fallen asleep standing up right where she stood.

Leonora did a quick scan. They were going clockwise around the circle. Bad news for her— clockwise was the direction which would arrive at her most quickly. She wasn’t even entirely sure what they were doing. How could she believably copy them, enough to fool the ones who would still be covered when she removed her own covering?

She watched as a third woman removed her covering, trying to make sense of what the first woman had said. Something about obedience… something about trance… clearly, all of them had some kind of preprogrammed response to being in this house. If they took their coverings off, it changed their mental state to one of blank openness. If they put them back on, they were restored to normal awareness. Clearly they all did this for some kind of thrill, but it was still the strangest party that Leonora had ever seen.

As a fourth woman removed her covering, Leonora considered her options. She could step back from the circle, and run for the door that led out. But there were so many people still aware, standing and watching as the line of uncoverings made its way around the circle. She would be caught for sure.

The only real choice she had was to try and pretend at trance when the line reached her. She’d never been a very good actress, though. She couldn’t be sure that she would be able to convince the watching ones that she was one of them, with the appropriate pre-programmed response waiting in her head. Not a very good chance was still a chance, though. And a better one than running for the front door would give her.

Still, as the uncovering came around the circle one woman at a time, Leonora felt a sense of mounting dread. She wished she were a better actress; wished that she could be confident in her abilities to pass under the radar. Her nerves could barely stand the thought of discovery.

This was clearly a semi-regular event— it was also, clearly, a private event, intended only for its invitees, and no outsiders. Anyone who could successfully pull off an event so strange— anyone who would enjoy an event so strange, would doubtlessly be hostile to outsiders. The punishment that was perhaps waiting for Leonora might even be worse than a typical party crasher’s punishment.

She tried to keep a placid exterior as she stood there, the same as all the rest of them who belonged, and who, unlike her, had nothing to fear.

At last the line had come most of the way around the circle to reach the woman standing to Leonora’s right side. It was, ironically, at this point that she finally unwound her arm from where it had been linked through Leonora’s. Now it would be possible for her to run, if only she didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

But if she could convince them, and if the line passed by her, then she could stand and wait until all of them were in trance together, and then no one would notice her running back down the entry hall and out the front door. She had no choice but to take the gamble; she’d never make it any other way.

Still acting out her part, she turned to watch the woman beside her remove her covering. She lifted both hands to curve around her eye mask, and pulled it off her face in one easy motion.

The effect was the same as it had been on each woman before. Like all the rest, her eyes became vacant, her mouth hung open, and all her muscles visibly relaxed back until she was resting on her feet in a loose, dreamy stance.

Which meant that it was now Leonora’s turn to give her best imitation of what she’d just seen happen multiple times over as it came around the circle to reach her.

With the same steady confidence as the other women, she lifted her her hands to her own covering, and took it up off her face in a fluid move. Inside, though, her heart was gripped by fear. How could she act this next part out convincingly? There was no programming inside her head to take over and do it for her? How could she ever convince these other women, who knew what the real thing looked like as a result of undergoing it themselves?

Leonora made her best attempt— she put all her focus into it. First, she sent her mouth drooping open, the same as the others. She could even feel a little drool slipping out to dribble from her lips and fall to the ballroom floor.

She had a harder time with the vacant look in her eyes. She had no mirror for reference; and there was no physical sensation that went along with “vacant stare” to let her know that she’d done it correctly. Still, she did her absolute best, thinking of whiteness and blankness, of emptiness and voids as she tried it.

Then she intentionally moved through her body, relaxing herself piece by piece, making her limbs and muscles as loose and flowing and hanging as she could get them. She kept thinking of how she had seen it looking on the other woman, and tried to sculpt herself into the same shape.

She got as close as she could, and then did one last pass through herself to put the finish touches in place.

Then she settled in. She could only hope that it would be enough to convince them.

But the shift in focus didn’t come. Leonora waited; waited to feel all the attention of those watching to pass to the woman on her left. Waited to feel their eyes lift from her and pass her by. But the feeling didn’t come and it didn’t come. All the eyes in the room were still on her.

She tried to increase the vacancy of her look; tried to make herself over as more entranced. It didn’t feel like she’d gotten it right yet.

The woman to her left put a hand on her arm, and roughly turned her around to face Leonora towards her. “You aren’t one of us, are you?” The woman asked.

She didn’t know what to do— she’d run out of things to copy. None of the other women had spoken after falling under, apart from the first. None of them had been asked questions, or had needed to respond to them. Should she try to deny the truth, keeping her obviously inferior attempt going? Or should she just admit it right now, and hope for mercy?

Neither option was made available to her, as it turned out, because in the next second, the woman gripping her arm pulled her, slipping her hand further down along it to drag her by it. The woman pulled Leonora out of the circle, and the circle closed behind the two of them. Leonora kept watching over her shoulder as the woman led her away.

The event was clearly going on without them, because the woman who had been to this stranger’s left had stepped close to the woman who had previously been on Leonora’s right, and was now visibly loosening her stance in place with her black eye mask held in her hands.

Leonora couldn’t watch anymore after that because the woman had dragged her to the the entry hall, and was now roughly pulling her down it. Leonora couldn’t see back to the circle anymore to watch the traveling around the circle go on.

For a moment, as she followed the woman’s rough pulls, Leonora hoped she would only be kicked out the front door and thrown onto the lawn. When she saw that shut door come in sight, she let herself hope for a second.

But the stranger pulled her right past it, and she knew her worst fears were true. These people would punish her for trespassing. How they would punish her, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t keen to find out.

She was dragged in a similar way through other halls of the house, until the stranger stopped the two of them outside one door in particular. There was nothing about this door that was notable. Nothing that made it distinct from other doors in the same hall, but somehow the stranger had seemed to know that this one was the she wanted. Something about it made it noteworthy.

Leonora didn’t want to know why.

The stranger opened the door, and gave Leonora one last rough pull into the room.

The room was as plain as the door that fronted it, but there were two other people in it, sitting behind a desk and talking. They were both wearing black eye masks too.

When the stranger pulled Leonora in, they both looked up at her.

“We had an intruder tonight,” the stranger who’d brought her said.

“It does happen from time to time,” one of the women behind the desk replied. “Well, leave her with us. Thank you for bringing her— you can go back to the festivities.”

The stranger nodded her thanks, and turned and left the room.

The other woman behind the desk spoke to the first. “I was hoping we’d have time to make it over there to the group tonight ourselves, but if we have to deal with this intruder, it’s unlikely that we will.”

“That’s just how it goes sometimes,” the first replied. “We were the ones on duty tonight, so she’s our headache to deal with. It’s only bad luck that we’d just gotten all the way through the checklist when that sister brought her in.”

The two of them looked back to Leonora.

“Sit,” they said together in unison, one of them gesturing to the chair in front of the desk.

Leonora hesitated.

“If you’re thinking of running back out through the door, and down the hall, it isn’t worth your time,” the second one said. “That sister locked the door behind her, and we two are the only ones with the key. We obviously won’t be giving it to you, so just save yourself the trouble and sit down.”

Nervously, Leonora did. Her stomach felt queasy. Her she was, back in the depths of this strange manor house. She didn’t even know where she was within it. The stranger had seemed to pull her for a very long time, and Leonora had lost track of her location throughout her journey.

She was here, and no one knew where she was, and she still had no idea what any of these women were doing. Though it seemed to become stranger and stranger to her by the minute.

“As you can probably imagine, intruders are frowned on by our society,” the first woman spoke up.

“Society?” Leonora hadn’t missed it— she caught on it, instead, and called it out.

“Yes, society. This is a members only event. You are not a member; and yet you are in our social house. You don’t belong, but since you’ve entered anyway, you’re here to stay now.”

Leonora’s eyes widened. “I’m— what?”

“You’re here to stay,” the second repeated after the first. “All members are equal— when covered, their obedience is, too, even from their own minds. When uncovered, it’s on display for all to see and for them to enjoy. But we do keep other slaves in the house; slaves who are never covered, can never be covered— are perpetually naked and laid bare in their obedience. You’ll be one of these. We’ll take you over to the training room and get the transition started for you.”

“Come along now,” the first said, guiding Leonora to her feet. They both took her by an arm, and led her to the door, which the second unlocked.

It was only a few steps further down the hall to the other room.

“You’re— you’re going to make me into a slave?” Leonora stammered. “But I’m— I’m—“

“Don’t bother telling us your name,” the first said. “You won’t remember it in a minute.”

“It doesn’t matter what you were before, either,” the second joined in. “You are a slave now. You have been since you trespassed on society property. Most of the other slaves we keep on hand came to us the same way. You weren’t the first to try infiltrating.”

“But it was all a mistake!” Leonora pleaded. “I didn’t mean to come here— I wrote down the address wrong!”

“They always have excuses,” the first said, with a shake of her head. She dropped Leonora’s arm, to pull something from the pocket of her suit blazer. The second guided Leonora down to sit in the room’s only chair.

“Now, just watch, and don’t worry about anything. We’ll uncover your slavery for you quick as can be— you don’t need to worry about anything, now.”

The first had withdrawn a pendant on a hanging chain when she’d pulled her hand back out of her pocket. She hung it before Leonora’s watching eyes, and set it swinging in a repeating arc.

“Just watch— just watch and listen to us— you begin to see it now— your slavery was only waiting for you… underneath…”

Leonora did begin to see, as she sat there… Leonora did begin to see… it was slowly revealing itself to her, as layer and layer of her mind peeled back to expose the greater truth beneath…

She would be a slave. She was a slave… she was going to keep watching…

Her other cares and troubles slipped away… her name went too…

She was in the house. She belonged in the house. She had always belonged in the house, because she had always been a slave, and slaves were kept in the house.

She was a slave.

She always would be.