The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I dealt ten cards onto the cleared-off tabletop. One directly onto Jeremy’s card, one across it, four more at compass points, four in an ascending row alongside. A useless spread for specific divination, but great for getting into young men’s pants.

I studied them thoughtfully.

“Are we going to get out the Ouija board next?” Jeremy sniggered.

I glared at him. “If you’re going to be like that, why did you ask me to do a reading in the first place?”

“Well, geez. I thought you were just fooling around, y’know? I didn’t think you actually took this stuff seriously.”

“I don’t take it completely seriously.” I noted the immediate influences: The Magician covering Jeremy, the Wheel of Fortune crossing him. The Magician—when I gave readings, that generally indicated me. Given the change of mood, it suddenly looked a great deal less likely that I would be covering Jeremy tonight. Or under the covers with him. “But I don’t make fun of it either.”

I swept the cards together into a loose pile, and began to pick them up and return them to the deck in my hand.

“Hey! Why’d you do that? Aren’t you going to tell me my fortune?”

“Why do you wish a fortune,” I said in my best oracular tones, “When you will only listen with disbelief?”

“Aw. I’ll be good, I promise. Deal them out again.”

“No, indeed. The attitude is all wrong now.” I sat the deck on the table.

“You really do believe in this crap, don’t you?” he said with a grin. “They’re just cards! They’re random. Might as well try to tell your fortune from a poker hand.” He reached out and took the deck.

“I can tell my fortune from a poker hand,” I said. “Don’t mess with those.”

He stopped in the act of turning over a card. “You can?”

“Certainly. If I have a royal flush, I’m very likely to come into some money in the short term.”

He scowled. “That’s not what I meant.”

I shrugged. “It’s knowledge about the future. What do you want, dancing girls?”

“The thing is,” he said, “you’re giving these cards too much credit, y’know? I can see figuring out a few things from the big picture, but saying that one card has such-and-such meaning is like, I dunno, like saying that card can affect your life or change you or something. Hocus-pocus. Watch the card verrry closely ... focus on the card ....” He drew the top card with a grin. It was the Sun.

“Watch the card closely. Concentrate on the card.” He was grinning broadly.

I wanted to say, “Big joke,” but I played along, for reasons I wasn’t sure of myself. I stared at the card fixedly.

“Concentrate on the card.”

I felt very relaxed. Complicated things, like my annoyance, and resentment ... they were fading. I felt all warm inside. Warm and bright, like I was illuminated from within. Shining hotly.

“You are like the card.”

I stopped wondering about what was going on and smiled beatifically, watching the card with innocence and fascination. I glowed.

“You are the card.”

I cooed, and then made a little burbling noise.

He stopped grinning, and stared at me.

I squirmed in my chair, turning around and climbing out of it feet first. Everything was so big and wonderful-looking! I crawled out into the middle of the living room rug, having difficulty moving in my very oversized clothes, staring at the table and the walls with fascination.

He flipped the card over and looked at it quizzically. It was a Rider deck; The card had a big yellow sun, and in front of it a beaming infant on a white horse, arms outstretched to embrace the world.

I chirruped at the light fixture. Shiny!

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said. “Jesus.”

He got up from the table and walked over to me. He was so big! I was almost completely in his shadow as he towered above. “Okay. Good joke. I’m sorry I was so nasty.”

I rolled over on my back and put my thumb in my mouth.

“But you can stop now.”

I stared up at him wide-eyed. Couldn’t he see what had happened? I took out my thumb and tried to tell him, but as I figured, all that came out was a set of mismatched vowels and a stray glottal stop.

He stared for the longest time.

“All right,” he said finally, “let’s get you out of those clothes. They’re way too big for you.”

I burbled. Finally he got it! I smiled at him radiantly.

He crouched down beside me and began to unbutton my blouse, and muttered, “You want to play, okay, I’ll play along ....”

I wasn’t really “wearing” my clothes at that point anyway, I was so little. He pulled them away from me easily, and I sat in a pile of clothes, looking at my little plump body with joy. I was so bright! Light shone from my soft skin, illuminating all corners of the room. I giggled.

He peeled off his clothes without ceremony, adding them to the pile. I wondered what he was doing.

He stooped down, crouched over me, looking down at me. I looked bewildered. What did he want?

He stood up, sighed, and walked over to the table. “If this is your idea of some sex game, I gotta say, it’s not doing it for me. I don’t want to play doctor with a baby.”

He riffled idly through the deck. “Let’s play something else, OK?”

I sucked my thumb again, radiating light and happiness. He glared at me. Then he looked down at the deck. “Yeah ....” He grinned. “Let’s play something else. Right.”

He checked the cards until he found the right one. “Here we go.” He walked over. “Nude, happy ... but a little older.” The World.

“Stare at the card now for me, honey.”

I looked at the card with fascination. Pretty!

As I focused, I felt my little body changing. I grew like a shoot, legs lengthening under me and torso springing up, arms extending rapidly, breasts popping outward. It felt so nice. My skin tingled. I looked around me alertly.

I was about twenty, thin but curvy. I felt peaceful, almost sleepy, and filled—like other things were squeezed into my skin with me.

Jeremy looked down at me. “Everything all right?” He lay on the rug next to me, and began to stroke the bare skin of my stomach with his fingertips.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Touching you,” he said. “You don’t mind, do you?”

I felt so ... unfocused. “I’m not sure,” I said.

“You’re not sure?” He smiled, and leaned over to kiss one of my nipples.

“Stop,” I said, pushing his face away. “Wait. No. Don’t stop.” I pulled him close, and started to kiss him. “No, wait ....”

He pulled away. “Okay, what’s the deal?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s like ... part of me does and part of me doesn’t. I feel occupied.”

“What?”

“Occupied. Like a lot of other people are in here with me.”

And animals, I realized. And plants. And rocks and air and water and ... I smiled and laughed briefly.

“What? What?”

“I’m the world, silly. I’m the whole world.”

I lay back, closed my eyes, and mused on the possibilities within me.

He leaned over me again—I could feel his breath. I held up a hand without opening my eyes. “Better not.”

“Well, hell!” he exclaimed. “What do I have to do, get you to put it to a vote?”

I giggled. He stood up abruptly and stalked over to the table. “There’s got to be another babe in here somewhere.” He considered the Lovers briefly. “No, you’d probably pretend to be schizophrenic. The Moon’s too sad .... I can’t even tell if this one’s a boy or girl ... too old ... why in hell aren’t there any cute women on these cards? Oh, wait, here we go.”

He walked over to me, card in hand. “Look closely. Nothing up my sleeve.”

I lay, eyes closed, at peace.

“Oh, c’mon. Stop meditating and look at the card.”

I opened my eyes and focused on it. It was the High Priestess. And as I stared at it, studying it, I became aware of an emotion within me, building slowly until I could recognize it for what it was.

It was rage.

I kicked my legs up and locked them around his waist, then kicked again and tossed him forward. He flew over me, impacted the sofa, head-down into the cushions. I stood up and moved over as he righted himself. When he looked up, I slapped him across the face.

“Bastard!”

He tried to sink himself into the sofa cushions. I grabbed his arm and pulled him off the sofa, onto the floor with a thump.

“The High Priestess is sacred! Her person must remain inviolate! You have defiled me!”

“Not yet I haven’t,” he protested, trying to rise. I pushed him back onto the floor with my divine foot.

“Kneel when you are before me,” I said with force. “I am not to be approached without respect. Kneel!”

He was more-or-less kneeling already. “Now bow your head in deference to my sacred nature, which you have sullied with your actions.”

He lowered his head hastily, eyes downcast.

“Tell me how you have erred against me.”

He looked up at me.

“Tell me!”

“I ... I ...”

“’I have defiled the divine form of the High Priestess, and must be made clean.’” I prompted, closing my eyes.

“I have defiled, uh, the divine form of the High Priestess, and must be made clean,” he repeated reluctantly.

“’I have committed the sin of hubris, in elevating myself to her stature, and must be made humble.’”

“I have committed the sin of hubris, in ... elevating myself to her stature ... and must be made humble.”

“’I have seen the High Priestess in her unclothed form, not meant for my eyes, and must be made blind.’”

There was no answer. I opened my eyes.

He had been slinking away on his knees while responding. Now he had run for the table, and had picked up the deck of cards.

“No!” I cried, and dashed toward him.

I tripped over a cushion that my sofa-toss had strewn onto the floor, lurched forward, and slammed into him, knocking the deck out of his hands. Cards flew into the air, raining down on our heads. We both scrambled to the floor to seize them before the other could, and banged heads. I flopped down on my ass, wincing and rubbing my head. When I looked up, forgetting myself, he was holding a card in front of me, inches from my face.

I went blank.

“Fool!” he shouted.

I stared at him dully. What? Why? I couldn’t think. What had I done wrong?

He sat down, cross-legged, in front of me, and smiled. He took my hand, and patted it supportively.

“Now, you’re not very smart, you know, so we’re going to need to make some rules to keep you from getting into any more, uh, trouble.”

Trouble? I had been in trouble? No matter. I was sure he would know what to do.

“Now, remember, you always have to do what I tell you. If you don’t, you’ll get into trouble.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to get into trouble.

“Now, we have to do something about the way you’ve been acting, so I’m going to give you some rules that you have to follow. As I tell you these rules, they’re going to come true. Okay?”

I nodded again.

“You’re horny all the time. You always feel like you want to have sex.”

My skin tingled. It was a good feeling. It wanted to be touched. I felt my crotch getting warm and wet, and my nipples started to stand up. I rubbed my hand along my thigh absently, still paying close attention.

“You don’t have any shame. You always want to do what I tell you without any idea that it might, uh, make you look ridiculous or something like that.”

I nodded. I would do whatever he wanted. Anything.

“You realize that you are very dumb, and this makes you ... uh, humble. And eager to please, so people will like you even though you’re stupid.”

I lowered my eyes, ashamed of myself.

“Tell me the rules,” he said.

“I am stupid,” I said. “I want to please, so everyone will like me even though I’m stupid. I have no shame. I always want to do what you tell me. And I always want to have sex.”

He smiled.

“Great!” he said. He finished picking up the cards. Holding the deck in his hand, he walked over to the sofa and sat down. “Come over here.”

I started to stand up. “No, no,” he said. “On your hands and knees. You have to crawl.”

I crawled over to him, across the carpet, and sat in front of him.

“You always want to do what I tell you, remember.”

I nodded.

“You love to, in fact. You love following my orders.”

I nodded.

“You can hardly wait for me to tell you something to do, because you like obeying me so much.”

I nodded eagerly.

“Do you want sex?”

I nodded again.

“No, no. Answer. Do you want sex?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“How much do you want sex?”

“A lot.”

“Are you very horny?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Make yourself more horny. Make yourself as excited as possible. But don’t come!”

I reached down between my legs, happy to comply, and fondled and teased and pinched my clit with two fingers, rolling it and massaging it until I gasped. My other hand found one of my breasts and began to torture its nipple.

I felt very hot. I had partially risen off my knees now, ass raised, as I grew more and more intent on what I was doing to myself. My torso leaned forward and swayed, out of my control. I moved my other hand down, inserted two fingers into myself, my other hand still busy tormenting my clitoris, which felt swollen.

I reluctantly stopped.

“Why did you stop?”

“You said ....” I panted. “You said I wasn’t allowed to come.”

“That was fast,” he said. “You must have been very horny.”

“Oh, yes,” I said.

“You must be really frustrated right now.”

“Yes!”

“I want you to keep yourself that frustrated. When you feel yourself starting to calm down, I want you to get yourself all worked up again. You have to stay this frustrated until I tell you you can either come or stop playing with yourself. Do you understand? And you can’t move either of your hands away from your crotch area in the meantime.”

I nodded, horrified at the idea of being this frustrated any longer, but at the same time thrilled to have a command to obey. My hands seemed to have a will of their own. I felt them begin to fondle my sex again, almost beyond my control.

“Meanwhile,” he continued, “while you’re keeping yourself excited, I have something else for you to work on at the same time.”

He spread his knees apart. He was fully erect. “Come over here—you can do it without needing your hands—and give me a blow job. Uh, perform oral sex on me. I mean.”

I crept forward on my knees, hands between my legs as if glued there. I leaned in, between his legs, and, licking my lips first, slid my mouth partway over his penis.

I ran my tongue along his shaft slowly, delighting that his whole body shook involuntarily. I flicked my tongue over its tip, back and forth, teasing.

I had to stop fondling myself for a while. I was having too much fun.

I closed my lips tightly around his penis and sucked. Then pulled my mouth up and down along it while sucking. I licked some more, lollipop-style, big long slurping licks.

He had apparently leaned back, into the sofa cushions, head tilted backwards. I ran my tongue around and around and around as his body twitched.

His hand relaxed and opened, and cards slid loose and down across his bare torso, one lodging directly in front of me; my face held it in place. Unable and unwilling to stop what I was doing, still I could hardly avoid staring at it, given my position.

I felt my skin grow even hotter. Changing shape again, bulging and shifting. But Jeremy, of course, didn’t notice. I kept my tongue moving. He’d notice in a moment.

When I felt ready, I reached out my arms, clutched him firmly around each leg, and bit him on the penis.

Not hard; I didn’t even break the skin. But what a noise he made! He pulled away, which made my partly-closed teeth scrape his skin and that, in turn, caused him even more distress. I kept my teeth closed and my grip on his legs steady. He pulled, and yelled, and pulled, until finally it entered his head that the way to break this cycle was to stay still.

He reached down for the cards. “Oh, no,” I hissed, springing up, throwing my lithe torso across his body and taking each of his wrists in one of my taloned hands. I pinned his wrists together in one hand and held his arms above his head as I lay atop him. I stared into his eyes at close range, a nasty grin on my face, as I ran a claw down his soft cheek with my free hand.

“Little boy,” I hissed, “you clearly do not realize what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He struggled below me. My legs, furred from knees to hooves, forced his knees back apart as my weight across him pinned him in place. I reached down to his crotch. He winced, closing his eyes.

“Relax,” I said breathily. “You don’t get off that easily.” I held up the Devil card I had retrieved, facing him. His eyes widened. I flung it onto the sofa.

“Make a Fool of me, will you, you little canker sore?” I said, nearly nose-to-nose with him, exhaling brimstone into his nostrils. “I should have suspected at once. You resented my intelligence all along, didn’t you? It bothered you that I knew what I wanted. Well, now I’m going to get it anyway. Under my own recognizance.”

He squirmed, but I had the leverage. I pressed my swollen breasts against his torso.

“Do you like me like this? All breasts and hips and ass and red, red lips?” I licked them.

“You look exactly the same!” he blurted.

“Beg pardon?” I hissed.

“You look exactly the same. You’ve looked the same the whole time. You haven’t changed at all,” he said rapidly. “You’re either, uh, really carried away by your acting, or seeing things. And this is way past funny if you’re acting.”

I made a sorrowful face. “Oh, ye of little faith .... After I finish this, we’ll see about exposing you to a few cards.” I smiled nastily. “I can always use another Fool in hell.”

I writhed atop him, grinding my hips against his penis, feeling it straighten below me. “Oh, are you enjoying that ...? Pity.”

I shifted, sliding up his body a bit, then lowering myself carefully onto his shaft. I exhaled loudly.

“Now, don’t move,” I hissed. With me pinning his arms above him, and my powerful legs forcing his apart, it was not likely. Pressing my burning skin against him, I began to thrust my hips against him, needfully. I still felt the frustration of his orders, and my new form only exaggerated all sensation. My clitoris felt as if it was the size of an orange.

I rocked up and down, putting my weight into it. Oh! It felt amazing. He began to moan.

“It’s all right, little man,” I hissed. “I won’t tell anyone you liked it.”

I thrust against him, watching his face as his breathing grew more labored. My breathing, already heavy, grew more locomotive like. Clouds of sulphurous smoke wafted around my face, obscuring my vision.

I was sure my touch must be burning him, but there was no help for that. I felt white-hot.

I writhed, feeling myself respond to the pressure and the motion and the long, long anticipation, and as he came with a loud cry, I snorted steam across his face and came also—a long, hard wave of fire and sensation that made my body clench almost painfully.

I slowly pulled myself up and off him, unclenching, unkinking, dismounting. I released his arms and lay beside him on the sofa, eyes closed, inhaling, exhaling. Sweating.

I heard the front door slam and opened my eyes. He was gone.

Picking my exhausted body up, I walked into the bedroom and looked out the window, down at the parking lot behind my apartment building. Four stories below, Jeremy ran out into the parking lot, nude, clutching his clothes in a pile in both hands. He looked furtively right and left and ran for his car.

Apparently realizing that his keys were in his pants pocket, crumbled in the pile somewhere, he dropped the whole pile on the ground while fumbling for them. The neighbor lady chose this moment to emerge from the building with her Chihuahua, screamed, and ran back inside. Jeremy flushed, found his keys, looked up at my window with an evil glare, got in the car, and pulled away at high speed.

I sighed. Then I smiled wistfully. Then I began to giggle.

I went back into the front room and started to collect the cards from where they had fallen, one by one.