The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’d like to think that I am a good man. There was a time when I did not question my own morality, my own righteousness. And yes, there were times when I was happy. I hardly remember them now. They are echoes of times I shared with her.

I pull out my last cigarette and install it in my mouth, unlit. I fumble with my lighter and cup my hands against the wind, watching the shadows dance in my palms as the tiny light finally reaches its tendrils up to the tobacco. I puff once. Twice.

I’ve spent months looking for this one. The sense I have of them, it’s always the same. Like an irresistible pull, I feel them whenever they use it. That power that they have, that God-awful, sinful, disgusting, repulsive…curse. That thing that took her from me.

This one is smarter than the rest. He hasn’t been using it every night. It seems as though he can curb his insatiable appetite long enough to evade me. But he’s grown sloppy. I’ve built a profile for this one. He always goes for the same kind of women. Confident, powerful, successful types. Businesswomen, doctors, lawyers. It’s a power trip for him.

I always find them lying in bed, humiliated and afraid. He does not stop until he has torn down the successful and strong women, until he has penetrated into the weakest and most insecure depths of their psyche. Until he has mastered them…

Sloppy, still. He does not know that I have found him, nor does he know that I’m sitting outside his door enjoying the last few moments of peace before I deliver his retribution. He is careless, intent now only on the rape of the mind he is committing with the innocent young women he found earlier today.

I catch flashes of it, like ghost images on a television set: outlines and glimpses of a picture to indistinct to truly experience but too noticeable to ignore. For what seems like the hundredth time, I am immersed in the mind of a monster.

He’s taking his time with this one. I can feel him feeling her. His hands are sliding slowly down the crook of her back, and he is reveling in the invasion of her mind. I can feel him pushing into her will, extinguishing the last traces of resistance like the cigarette that I’m stubbing against the concrete ground.

He’s pulling away the layers of her mind, dissecting them and understanding her. He finds all that she is willing to give, and that which she is unwilling to reveal. Into the deepest corners of her mind, he pushes, opening that which is not his by force, the same method I use to gain entry past the locked doors.

He’s explored enough now, and he’s forcing his will onto her. The terror in her eyes disappears, replaced by a lifelessness comparable to a creature of broken spirit. She knows her master now, knows his desires. She stoops low and takes him into her mouth, a means to an end she would normally not approve of, but this situation is not exactly ideal. I slide six bullets into the chamber of my side-arm, a weapon I despise but accept the necessity of.

The sex they have is intense. The strength of it crosses over into my mind. I’m picking up on all of it now. As I stumble up the stairs leading to his room, I’m feeling all that he feels, seeing all that he sees, and the sensation of two simultaneous experiences is almost too much for me.

Fingernails clawing down my back. I feel myself inside of her, thrusting, building toward an inevitable climax. She grunts and moans, screaming, and I hear her in my ears begging for release, professing her pleasure. We both feel it now, the moment he’s been waiting for.

And suddenly I see her. Not the object of this monster’s affection. My love, the woman who has been stolen from me. I am determined to find her, and so I push with all my might, ignoring the pleasure pouring over me from the other side of this door. My mind is clear, my purpose realized once more. We are separate now. He is evil, and I am…what?

It doesn’t matter. The door to his room is rusted on the hinges and worn with age. I hit it with all my weight, and it crumples before me like so much cardboard. They are on the bed, humping like animals. My entry seems to break his spell over her, and she screams, tumbling off him onto the floor.

He’s screaming at me, standing now and moving towards me. I raise the gun in my hand, pointing it at his face. He stops and meets my gaze. I move towards him until the barrel of my gun rests against his forehead. I reach out with my free hand and gather up a bed sheet in my hand.

“Leave, now.” They’re the only words I speak aloud that night as I toss the sheets onto the naked crying woman. She leaves, slamming the door behind her and cutting off the sobs. It is just us now, me standing in a three piece suit with a gun, and the monster looking squarely into my eyes.

Our conversation is silent, a meeting of the minds as he tries to push his will onto me like all the other before him. It is pathetic and I find myself hating him all the more for the effort.

‘Put down the gun’. A whisper in my mind.

‘No’. My resolution will not be broken.

‘Yes.’ He counters, pushing harder. I feel the pressure of his will on my own. He has never come across another who could resist his talent.

‘I will not.’ I pull the hammer on my gun.

‘PUT DOWN THE GUN!’ His mind screams into mine, and he is full of panic and full of frustration. An animal is always most dangerous when they are backed into a corner, and this beast is no exception. His will explodes from him, threatening to engulf me. My hand shakes, but I have a mission, and I have only to weather this storm.

The exertion on the man’s mind shows, and as my will emerges from the maelstrom unscathed he realizes that I will not be dominated. It is in this moment of vulnerability that he reveals his story.

This has always been my curse. I am not capable of forcing my will onto others. I have no urge to do so. But I can see what most people do not wish to divulge: thoughts, motives, intentions, experiences. A mind is always an open book to me.

I see, against this man’s will, that he has never met My Love before. She is not in his head. My heart sinks. Another dead end. My despair must be leaving my mind, because suddenly the beast is sobbing before me. He is crying with the intensity of the emotion I feel. Then his mind produces something for me. An image of a woman.

She is someone like him. Instantly, I can recognize her power. He met her once, and barely survived the encounter. As I see her face and catch a glimpse of her power, I recognize her for the incarnation of evil that she is. Perhaps she is the one who took her from me.

I withdraw from the man’s mind and he collapses onto the floor, whimpering like a beaten dog and groveling at my feet. He tries, feebly, to project his will over me once more. Pathetic. I bring the gun to bare and point it at his head. He looks up at me imploringly with fear in his eyes.

‘Do not use it again.’ I caution him, and I can tell he hears my thought.

I holster my side arm and leave his apartment. He lies there, naked and humiliated on the floor, and finally feels a small amount of the pain he has brought onto so many others. I do not feel better for leaving him alive.

The woman I am looking for is in a nearby city. I can feel her presence tickling at the back of my mind. As I drive, the closing proximity is accompanied by flashes of both pleasure and pain. I wonder if I will find the One I have been looking for.

My travels take me deep into the city, into a place the law has forsaken, full of people with hard looks on their faces and fear in their eyes. There is evil here, and I can feel it. The mind of the demon is reaching out to me.

Days come and go as I draw closer to her. She is shameless in her abuse of her power. She uses it freely, dominating all who strike her fancy. Several times in a day, I can feel her inflicting a great deal of pleasure and pain on a few poor souls. Each time she uses it, I draw a little bit closer.

I’m becoming desperate, a realization that does nothing to rationalize the way I’ve been conducting myself. The weight of the gun upon my hip is a constant reminder of the life I’ve left behind. A weapon? She always hated guns, and I felt like I was betraying her by using one. Just another small moral compromise in my pursuit of her.

And I miss her. Desperately, painfully, longingly, I miss her. My mind is playing tricks on me. As I wander the streets, coming ever closer to my mark, I feel like I’m beginning to lose my mind. I see her face on those of the whores and dope addicts that afflict this city. Each time I take a second look, I’m met by the dull realization that I may never find her. There might be no her to find.

After nearly a week, I find the demon. She knows that I am looking for her, as they all do. I cannot hide my mind. She makes no effort to hide hers. Yet she does not leave, merely waits for me and continues her abuse of the innocent. It sends a shiver down my spine.

Her lair is a run down house, worn by age and negligence. The intensity of the visions accosting me is almost too much. So much pain has been borne in this place. I feel terror and suffering, too much for one person. And I feel a hunger, an intense pleasure that brings me to my knees. I vomit and shake off the effects of the demon’s presence.

The air is thick inside, the musk of sex and sweat wrinkling my nose as I find my way down the first hall. The house is dimly lit, by bulbs with ages of dust on them and by candle where the electricity fails. I try hard to ignore the blood spattering the floor and walls as I shuffle along the oak floor. I fail.

Doors on both of my sides, and one in front of me. I don’t need to guess to know my path. The visions are intense now, and I can see that the demon has found herself new victims. I press my palm firmly against the door in front of me and enter her lair.

It is a strange sensation as my visions intermingle with the reality of the situation. The demon is there, sprawled out on a lounge chair, entertaining herself with two young women. They are not alone. All about the room, dozens of naked women lie in various states of ecstasy and orgasm.

I can feel it like waves crashing over me, pleasure flowing freely from the demon’s mind so intense that I almost lose myself. It is unrelenting, and I feel my focus slip before her mind’s presence. I refuse this. I am better than her.

She turns to look at me, meeting my eyes and rising from her chair. She is beautiful. She stands before me, naked, and raises her arms to display the room to me. “Do you like it?” She asks, gesturing towards the throngs of naked women.

“Do you have her?” I ask, resting a hand on the gun in my waistband.

“Yes.” She says simply, walking slowly closer to me. The eyes of the myriad women turn to watch her procession. In their eyes there is no hate, no fear. Instead they look upon her with…what? Love? That’s insane.

“Will you give her to me?” I draw the gun into the open and let it rest lazily in my hand.

“I will not.” The demon’s eyes flash dangerously at me. She comes to a stop, a mere five feet from where I stand. I meet her gaze, refusing to let my eyes rest upon her heaving chest or naked sex. I raise my gun level to her head.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

I pull the trigger. At least I try to, anyway. But suddenly my body is paralyzed and I can’t feel my fingers anymore. All I feel is a sudden sense of revulsion as I realize that the demon has invaded my mind. I feel her presence flow over me like mercury.

“Put down the gun,” she says, her voice smooth and deep, commanding, not asking. I fight it, every step of the way, but my body won’t listen. My hands move slowly to the ground until I feel the gun leave my fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

“There is no reason for this,” she begins, circling around behind me. “Your love for her is admirable, but rest assured mine is more fulfilling. She is happier with me here than she could ever be with you.”

I snort, a sound cut short as she tightens the mental vice around me.

“You know…” She whispers, resting her chin on my shoulder and drawing her arms to hook around my neck. “You could be just as happy here. I could keep you like a pet. You could be mine instead of hers…” Her voice is honey, seductive and full of promises that hold a strange appeal to me.

It is her power, of course. She’s in my head, screwing with it, trying to break me. I am not weak. I push her influence back as far as I can.

“A life without her is no life at all. I belong to her.”

She runs her hands across my shoulders, slowly working her way up my neck and into my hair. Her fingers feel like silk. She brings her mouth close to my ear, and whispers, her lips tickling my skin. “We’ll see about that. I will break you.”

She begins to unbutton my shirt. The revulsion I feel at having her hands on me is almost unbearable. But my body refuses to move. I am powerless, for now. She works slowly, making every second of it torturous for me.

She slides easily down onto her knees. Her fingers trace lazy curves around the buckle of my pants. She tugs at the clasp, unfastening and pulling at one end. I feel it slip from each successive loop, and then it’s gone, discarded on the floor. Her hand brushes the fabric of my pants loosely, flirting with the edge of my manhood. She finds my zipper and tugs at it. My pants fall.

I stand there naked, vulnerable, and hating her more and more with every second of it. I try to make my body move, try to expel her from my mind. My head is splitting with the effort, my muscles shaking with the pent up energy.

She is oblivious to it all, to intent to notice my efforts. She runs her palm up and down my thighs, bringing me closer to her chest. Her naked breasts rub against my legs, her nipples tickling at my skin. She brings her mouth down and breathes deeply on the inside of my thighs.

Her lips part slowly as her tongue darts out. She runs her lips over the length of my member, her tongue flicking across my shaft in a slow rhythm. I hate it. Each brush of her tongue against me sends a jolt of pleasure racing up my spine, and before long I can’t fight my body’s reaction.

As I gain an erection, the demon’s mouth follows close behind my shaft as her tongue continues to caress my head. I can’t take it anymore. Her tongue flickers faster and faster. I really can’t take it. She’s got her hands on me again, stroking the shaft as her tongue applies more pressure. This is enough! Her lips part wider. Her tongue withdraws and she stretches her jaw. She looks up at me once, winks. She licks her lips and leans forward, preparing to take me into her mouth. I HATE IT I HATE IT I HATE IT!

I push as hard as I can, my mind erupting and expelling her presence. My body shakes violently and then I am free! I bring a knee up and catch her squarely in the jaw, sending her careening backward. I dive for my gun and swing to point it at the demon’s face.

I freeze. I do not breathe. I do not blink. I only look.

Between the barrel of my gun and those demon eyes are a set of eyes that I have longed to see. Flowing golden hair, a pale complexion like that of an angel. Full red lips parted slightly. My heart skips a beat. It is her, my love, my life, my joy, my wife.

“Rose…” I breathe, hardly believing my eyes. I have found her! “Rose!” I yell, attempting to gather myself up from the ground. From my peripheral I see a flurry of motion, and suddenly I am buried in a pile of bodies. I scream and bite and kick but their numbers overwhelm me. I feel the gun wrench from my grasp. Suddenly I am leaving the ground as dozens of hands pull at my wrists and ankles, fully immobilizing me.

Each woman in the lair seemed to have come to the aid of the beast. They all had fire in their eyes now, intent only on the will of their master and the restraint of me. I fight, unable to break the grip they have on me.

Their numbers part and I am being tilted back towards the ground. Standing there, triumphant and grinning, the demon lays a hand on Rose’s shoulder. A small crimson trail of blood marks her lip and dribbles of her chin.

“That was a mistake.”

I ignore her, focusing only on Rose. “ROSE! It’s me! I’ve come for you!”

Rose turns to me and looks at me. Her eyes are empty. There is no spark of recognition there. No hint of the love I’d come to depend upon over the years. Only…cool appraisal. Maybe I hadn’t found Rose.

“You two were meant for each other, no?” The demon begins, running her fingers along Rose’s naked chest. “What punishment is fitting for you then? Perhaps I should separate you?”

With that, I feel the demon’s will explode once more from her mind, engulfing every last bit of the minds of the women. The women with hands on me begin to rub against me, pressing in closer and closer. I feel myself being pushed down onto the ground, feel my hands and feet being restrained.

The group is eager now, and I can feel their collective breath on my skin like an oppressive wave of heat. Tongues now, brushing over every inch of exposed skin. I’m angry, and worse, I’m helpless.

Naked flesh rubs along my body. I close my eyes and try to ignore the sensations and stimulation. Their hands are groping along my skin, massaging me and bringing my member to even more rigid attention. More than once I feel a bare breast rub across my face, a pert nipple bump against my nose.

I gasp as I feel one of the women take me into her mouth. I open my eyes and look down. She’s young, in her early twenties. Dark red hair and deep blue eyes, and as she begins to pump with her neck I can see her sizable bust bouncing to match her rhythm. She is attractive, but she is not Rose.

I struggle against my captors, craning my neck to see the demon. She takes notice and shakes a finger at me.

“Dear, dear. Aren’t you enjoying yourself? Forget about your woman! Surrender!” She tries to invade my mind once more, but I am fortress and stand in stubborn refusal of her influence.

“Very well. A demonstration of my dominance, then. Would you like to see your precious Rose’s commitment to you?” She grins at me, a smile more comparable to baring teeth. Her eyes are full of it, she’s drunk with it. Power. Insanity.

She moves forward and turns to face Rose. My wife turns toward the demon. And they kiss. It’s a long, passionate kiss. The kind we used to share, the kind given and received by lovers. It sickens me to see it.

They do not stop there. Rose brings a hand up to the demon’s breast and tentatively rubs a nipple. The demon responds by pinching at Rose’s excited nipples, rolling them between her fingers and laughing airily as Rose begins to mew like a damned kitten.

“STOP IT!” I feel the blood pumping through my ears, and it’s a rage I’ve never felt before. My hands are shaking, fists clenched so tight my nails threaten to shred my palms. The demon continues fiddling with Rose. She watches me with every move she makes, gauging each reaction.

“Calm down. Have your own fun.”

I gasp as suddenly one of the women eases herself down on my erection. She is a young Hispanic woman, with an athletic build and control of her vaginal muscles that makes me ache with lust. But her eyes are empty, and the moans that escape her lips are nothing more than the moans of an animal.

My body is responding whether I want it to or not. I feel myself begin to meet the girl’s thrusts with thrusts of my own. I do not know if it is the demon’s influence. More terrifying to me is the thought that my body may be fully under my control, and that perhaps our intercourse is more willing than I will admit.

Rose and the demon continue on in plain sight. The demon lays Rose down on the floor and brushes her fingers slowly along the inside length of her leg. I can see my wife shudder with pleasure, gasping as the demon’s fingers slowly begin to tease their way closer and closer to her snatch.

Rose brings her hands up to her own chest, kneading her breasts between her hands as her hips begin to surge toward the demon’s fingers. I hear her moan loudly as the demon finally enters her, first with one finger then two. Her stimulation of the clitoris is evident, because Rose is grunting and biting her lip with a vigor I recognized from many nights spent together.

My problems aren’t disappearing. The woman on me is bouncing up and down, faster and faster, clenching at all the right times. I feel myself building towards orgasm, a feeling that brings me a mixture of anticipation and shame.

All around me, the women are in a state of extreme sexual arousal. Those not occupied restraining me begin to couple, mindless slaves to the lust that consumes them. It is an orgy, and the air becomes thick with the scent of their stimulation, my ears full of the sounds of gasps and moans.

The demon brings her tongue towards Rose’s hips. She turns to face me, making sure she has my intention. “She’s mine now.”

She thrusts her tongue into my wife. I see Rose’s back arch, watch her toes curl as she surrenders completely to the pleasure the demon gives her. I’m picking up some of the sensations she is feeling. It is truly unbridled pleasure. I’m intoxicated with the feeling. I begin to thrust more willing into my partner, and she matches me with a renewed effort.

But then I hear a voice. Clear as a bell, soft, familiar.

I am here. I’m with you. Help me.

I here Rose’s voice in my head. I look to her, see her body still consumed with pleasure. But her head turns, slowly, and her eyes fall onto mine. They recognize me. They are wide with fear, but they are calm with trust. I have found Rose.

My body is eager for release. Rose’s slight frame is shaking with pent up sexual energy. The demon continues in her efforts, unaware of Rose’s return to reality. I am capable of beating this wench. I have a mission.

The woman straddling me speeds up, faster and faster. I moan loudly and thrust into her with all my strength. I watch as Rose bucks and surrenders to orgasm. The burst of energy released from my wife’s mind pushes me over the edge. I climax, pumping my seed into my captor.

Then a strange thing happens. My mind finds complete peace. There is no more beast, no more captors. There is only Rose. My love, my purpose, my soul-mate. She needs me now.

I push forward with all the mental strength I can muster. The demon’s will is extinguished in the women closest to me, and they collapse. I stand to face my foe with a power I have never felt before.

The demon looks at me, shocked. She scrambles to her feet, pulling Rose up by her arm until she is held between us. I can feel her presence, but the demon seems so small in comparison to the need of Rose.

“Do something!” The demon yells, frantically motioning at her legion of lust driven slaves. The move towards me, all of them at once.

“No.” I say, quietly. They stop. All of them.

I bend over and pick up my gun. It is cool and heavy in the palm of my hand.

The beast is frantic. “You can’t fight me! Your mind is too weak!”

She raises her hand, focusing all of her power and talent and evil at me. Through the haze of mental energy emanating from her, I see Rose. She stands through it all like a beacon, a reminder of my mission and the reason for my existence.

The beast hits me with everything she has, and it rolls off me like a gust of wind. I walk closer to the demon, close enough to see that the insanity has left her eyes to be replaced by confusion and terror.

I level the gun with her head. She tries to hide behind Rose.

“What is this?!” She screams, her body visibly shaking.

I do not have eyes for her then. I meet the gaze of Rose. She is back, and our look communicates the deepest trust and understanding I have ever known. Her lips curve in a small smile, one that I return.

“Love.” We say, both of our voices joined as one. Rose tilts her head to the side and I pull the trigger. The bullet whizzes into the space occupied a millisecond before by Rose’s right eye. It splits the hairs above Rose’s ear and finds its mark as it enters into the demon’s skull.

The demon’s eyes are wide with surprise as the body realizes that the brain has been shredded by a bullet. She falls unceremoniously to the ground, her blood flowing freely onto the dirty floor, joining the blood of her many victims she had spilled herself.

Remorse is a commodity I could not afford.

Rose and I move towards one another, joining in an embrace that I’ve longed for all my life. In this moment, we are free of the world, free of evil, free of time. We are joined as one in the love that we share.

I have found her. My Rose.