The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Through the stark limbs of the stark trees, the moon was low and tinted red and enormous. But not as enormous as the enormous carved hardwood phallus Selene was stroking with supernaturally sensual intent. Her fingertip traced the scale of a snake, the tooth of a wolf, as her tongue slid across white, white, too sharp teeth.

Cece felt each knob of wood, each ivory point, deep in her folds, which were impossibly slick and inflamed. She wanted to touch herself, but her hands were nailed above her head to a tree. She mewed and twisted. There was bark between pressed against her buttocks, which shouldn’t have felt like a provocation.

Selene smiled, lips red against her pale cheeks like the red moon against the moonlight. Her face was lined with age, and her long hair was shockingly white, but her blue eyes glinted with a terrifying vitality. Her full, firm breasts stood up proud on her frame, the nipples mouth-wateringly erect. She traced the phallus, impossible huge, down Cece’s torso, down, down, down.

“You need me in you, granddaughter, don’t you?” she said, in a voice like branches scraping in a dry wind. “You need me to come inside you and fill you with power.”

Cece’s cunt bucked in affirmation and tried to slide its lips over the phallus, so close now. Something nearer to her brain though, was not so sure. Some sluggish panic, trying dimly to warn her.

Selene’s smile got somehow wider and pointier. “Oh, yes,” she said. “The fear makes it better.” She laughed and there was a thrust of pain and pleasure and terror so great it split the world open and Cece screamed, or someone screamed through her.

Cece’s eyes snapped open, her heart racing. She was very, very wet. She was specifically very very wet for Selene, with her magnificent tits and her gigantic phallus. Selene who was her great grandmother. Who was dead. And hot. But dead. For goddess’ sake.

“Fuck,” she said, inadequately.

She hadn’t been particularly quiet when she spoke, and half expected Laurie to wake up. But her erstwhile classmate’s breathing didn’t alter. She had, apparently, cum frequently and intensely enough that a single “fuck” wasn’t enough to rouse her. In the dim ambient light from the window, her diminutive, athletic frame was splayed out invitingly, her small breasts pert and firm, one hand holding possessively to Cece’s arm, the other between her legs, as if she was stimulating herself even in sleep.

Cece knew that if she said the word, Laurie would leap up joyously and bury that skillful tongue in her again. And again. The memory of the dream tempted her to do just that…and also the memory of the dream got her the fuck out of bed because what the fuck was wrong with her?

Wrapped in her fluffy robe, sitting in the dark on her couch, she knew one thing for sure—dreaming about Selene was not good. And dreaming about sex with Selene was worse. And dreaming about Selene saying she wanted to be inside you—that was worse than worse.

It was bad enough when powerful dead witch great grandmothers spoke in your head on occasion and encouraged you to do ethically dubious things like, say, turning an innocent hot woman or maybe two into sex crazed fuck slave thralls.

But you really, really didn’t want said dead witch great grandmothers visiting your dreams and telling you she wanted to come into you. Cece had only started doing serious witchery, and she was not necessarily familiar with all the ins and outs and dangers and taboos. But she had been raised to the way of bone and blood, however reluctantly, and she knew a threat of possession when she heard it.

“Fuck,” she said again.

“Mmm. That sounds nice,” said Laurie.

Cece jumped. Laurie posed seductively against the door frame so Cece could get a good look at her. She hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on. Her hips were cocked with extravagant lewdness. Even from across the room, Cece could see the wet sheen amidst the curl of her pubic hair.

While Cece watched more hungrily than she really wanted to admit, the other girl snaked her hand down into her snatch and slipped a finger in. She licked herself off her hand elaborately. Then she suddenly giggled like she was at a slumber party, which somewhat ruined the mood.

“Would you like me to come over there and tongue fuck you?” she said, throatily, which went a good way towards restoring it.

Cece flashed to Selene and the phallus and decided firmly that she needed to take a break from the fucking. She opened her mouth to say, “Maybe we could cuddle instead?”

But instead, what came out, with an ominous creak, like branches scraping in a dry wind, was “Get your tongue over here, bitch.”

Laurie was on the couch so fast she didn’t even seem to cover the intervening space. Her lips were soft against Cece’s ear, the breath hot and ragged. Her fingers under the robe traced lightly up Cece’s slit, teasing.

“Oh, god,” she whispered. “It’s so good when you degrade me. So good.” Her fingers probed more insistently.

“Uh,” Cece said, as a digit went all the way in. She was glad to hear her voice was not scratchy anymore and that she could therefore stop thinking about Selene and possession and concentrate on being fucked. “Fingers are nice, but…you promised tongue?” she said hopefully.

The tongue in question slid into her ear. “Oh, now you’re so polite and demure,” Laurie said. “You know I’ll tongue fuck you whenever you ask. I’ll do anything you want.” Cece’s breath caught, and Laurie hissed. “Did I tell you my mom cried?” she whispered.

Cece froze. “That’s…why are we talking about your mom? That’s not sexy.”

Laurie’s breath was hot and importunate, like she wanted to slide into Cece’s ear, into her brain. “Oh, it is,” she said. “Remember how I was such a bitch? My parents are both lawyers; I’d always known I was going to be a lawyer and a judge. Maybe the Supreme Court. All I cared about was being the top of our class. I studied all the time. No boyfriends. No girlfriends. No friends. Just studying and working out for breaks.”

Cece did appreciate the working out. She tentatively slid her hand over Laurie’s perfect abs. Laurie grunted. Her hand, tireless, powered by those sculpted muscles, sped up just a touch.

“I knew you were good. I knew you were smart. But I knew I was going to beat you. I…hah…I erased your notes on your laptop once when you left class for a minute…”

“You what!” Cece pulled herself off the fingers in outrage. “That was you?!”

Laurie’s hand was not to be deterred; it found the clit again as if magnetized. “Yes, baby,” she said. She didn’t even sound contrite, really. “And I bad-mouthed you to Ramscott. I was his pet; when you took that time off I told him…oh your cunny is so slick and hot…I told him you’d said you’d make the work up no problem because torts was a silly beginner’s course anyway….”

“You bitch,” Cece said, somewhat distantly. Laurie was really working her now, her fingers everywhere, inside her, frigging her clit. The anger was there, but the orgasm, building tantalizingly close, was of more pressing concern.

“And then,” Laurie whispered. “A few weeks after I’d fucked your grade, and liked it, I looked up and saw you and…oh.” Her body went rigid. Cece made a little sound of frustration, but the hand started again almost before it got out.

“I guess you had Helen steal my hair so you could cast that spell and I was your thrall. Your bitch. I couldn’t even pay attention in class because I was thinking about your cunt. I could smell it. Across the room. I smell it all the time. It’s all I think about.

“And then. And then. You fucked me and you fucked me and you told me to drop out of school you told me I was a bitch and you were going to ruin me and take everything from me for being such a bitch and that…oh god that was better.” Her voice broke into a scream, her entire body convulsed. Her teeth bit down hard on Cece’s ear so that she gave a little gasp of pain. Laurie’s fingers were all thrusting now, hard and urgent.

“I did it; I dropped out. Didn’t even file for a leave of absence; can never come back. All my dreams are ruined; life is ruined for you. Got a job at a strip club for you. So hot grinding against hard cocks, knowing you’ve ruined me. Told my mom I was sick of school, loved being sexy eye candy for men. I came when she cried. I think she heard me. She knows what a slut I am. What a slut you made me. Oh, Circe, cum for your bitch!”

Circe did. She almost doubled up with the force of the orgasm, her head thrashing forward and then back against the couch like she was headbanging at some metal show. Laurie’s hand never stopped, pushing her to peak after peak, drawing out the last tendril of pleasure.

When it finally stopped an eternity later Laurie’s face was right above hers, her expression rapt. “I love to watch you cum,” she said. “Destroying my life and breaking my mother’s heart and milking stranger’s cocks for you are all so good. But nothing’s better than watching you cum after…” she smiled wickedly and licked Cece’s ear, “after I tongue fuck you.”

It was difficult after coming down from that truly spectacular orgasm, but Circe tried to be horrified. Things could get a little blurry in the throes of passion, but she was almost certain she hadn’t told Laurie to make her mother weep.

She had told her to quit school, though. And, yes, she’d told her to get a job as a stripper. She’d gone to see her dance once. Or a couple times. Little gym shorts and a tube top and grinding that perfect sculpted ass into some guy’s crotch as she looked dead into Cece’s eyes and licked her lips. And the expression of pure lascivious joy on her face when she pulled a wad of twenties out of her wisp of nothing underwear and handed them to Cece.

They hadn’t been able to wait to get home; Laurie had eaten her out in the car. Three times, if she remembered right?

Cece shifted. She was somehow horny again. Laurie had noticed too. She was gently suckling Cece’s nipple…and down to her notably-not-as-ripped-as-Laurie’s stomach. And down…”

She looked up from points south. “What do you think, mistress?” she said. “Ready for a tongue fucking after that tongue fucking?”

“How many times do I have to tell you don’t call me mist…oh. Oh, fuck. Fuck!” Cece said.

Laurie was very skilled and motivated and well-nigh insatiable, and Cece was feeling fairly insatiable herself, what with her brain flicking from Selene’s phallus to Laurie stripping to, horribly, Laurie’s mother crying. At some point they made it back to the bedroom, and then the sun was peeking up on another night of sleep fucked away.

Laurie sighed contentedly, snuggling up against Cece’s shoulder. “Is that enough, do you think? I could go all day, but if you’re wiped out I should get some sleep; I’ve got work tonight.” She licked Cece’s side idly. “Thrall’s got to shake her ass to bring the witch her money.”

The way Laurie said “thrall” and “witch”, and also the way her thumb was sliding apparently idly across a nipple was making Cece feel a little conflicted, but she was exhausted.

Also, as she looked at the gray light, which reminded her uncomfortably of Selene’s silver hair, somewhat guilty. And freaked out. She turned to look at Laurie, lying next to her. Her elfin features were relaxed. She looked completely trusting. Already asleep.

“I think…I think I’m actually a bad person,” Cece whispered.

Laurie’s eyes were open, her expression sincerely, utterly profane.

“I certainly hope so,” she said.

“Me too,” said a voice like dry branches. It sounded way too satisfied for Cece’s comfort.