The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Darkzone

codes: mc, ff, mf, fd, nc

This story is a very, very dark erotic horror story, and involves nasty things happening to people who don’t deserve it. It describes non-consensual sexual acts between adults, violence, death and other gross things. If these things offend you, or you are too young to read descriptions of such acts according to the laws and customs of your locality, please find something else to read.

If you didn’t like Tabico’s story “Wrach,” you probably won’t like this story.

Darkzone

Dark zone: The part of a cave in perpetual darkness, that lies beyond the twilight zone.

Even so deep within the Earth, I feel the seasons ebb and flow. It has been hundreds of years since humans last came down to my domain. It has been even longer since they brought light to these dark places. It has been an age since I last fed.

I am hungry.

I have known things have been changing, felt the weakening ties to the others like me, both light and dark. I have felt distant yet massive shocks to the very crust of the Earth, not earthquakes, but blows nearly as mighty. And now I see these humans, I know that much is different now.

There are four of them, one male and three females. Instead of the spells and wards that my previous visitors have surrounded themselves with, they are bare, unprotected. Their clothing is strange, a single close-fitting garment covers their bodies from ankle to neck, with long sleeves. The fastenings are of steel, but do not look to be buttons or clasps. The men and women dress similarly. They have finely-made boots on their feet, and wear helmets to which their lights are affixed. The helmets are not made of metal, and are held in place by an ingenious harness. Their lights gleam brightly, and do not flicker.

This last is perhaps strangest of all. In the past those who came here crawled through the darkness holding lamps of oil, or candles of wax or tallow. It was easy for a well-directed gust of wind or a fortuitous drop of water to extinguish the flame, leaving the humans at my mercy. These new lights resist my efforts.

The language here has changed. I do not understand what the humans say as they move through the passages and crawlways of my domain, although from the way they speak to each other I can tell that the name of the male is John, and the females are Beth, Karen and Mary.

John is tall and lanky, with a boyish cast to his face. Beth is short and compact, while Karen is taller and more muscular. The two look fit, as though they might be farmers or labourers of some kind, but their faces are not weather-beaten and their hands, although dirty from the mud and dust they have travelled through, look supple and well-manicured. Mary is perhaps a kept woman, for she is softer than either Beth or Karen and has fine make-up on her face. She is having more difficulty than the others in traversing the obstacles I place before them, and she relies on John for assistance.

I have no idea what this unlikely group is doing encroaching on my realm. In the past, those who have come here have been those who have guessed of the power here and have come to seek it, or those who have entered these caverns and become lost, stumbling inevitably into my lair. These look like neither. They stride with purpose and enthusiasm, not with the trepidation of supplicants or the fear of the lost.

They are a puzzle I will have to solve before I feed.

I bend my will to draw them into my centre.

* * *

These humans are puzzling indeed. When they first entered my heart, their reaction was not awe or fear, but rather delight. They ran their lights over the vast gardens of crystal I have carefully cultivated over the millennia, setting it ashimmer with reflections in the many facets. They will pay for illuminating my secret heart so, stealing away the sacred darkness.

They seemed to become excited, looking at a large piece of paper which may have been some kind of map. They rested awhile. And then they left through a different route than they had come in. They clearly did not know the significance of what they had stumbled across. In years gone by, even the lost had known when they came to the core of my domain that there was great power here and that they had no hope.

Again, I bent my will, steering them back to the centre. Again, they displayed no fear, nor even concern. It dawned on me then that they were exploring. Unaware of the danger, the power arrayed against them, like a child playing in the rain in a dry creek bed.

They will be easy prey.

* * *

They have returned to my heart for the sixth time. The tone of their voices indicates that they are starting to be a little concerned that they are so disoriented, but they have not yet attempted to leave the way they came.

My heart is a large chamber, and I have arranged it very deliberately. A deep, dark, still pool of water separates the entrances from my crystal garden. A moat of sorts, to keep the unwanted and uninvited out of my most precious sanctum. The side of the entrance has a shore of deep, wet, black mud, while the side of the crystal garden has a steep bank rising out of the water. Those who come to seek my power should know that they are like mud before my cathedral of splendour.

These humans seem to be considering my moat some sort of challenge. Karen is talking to John, pointing at the map and pointing toward the far shore. I cannot believe my good fortune when they stop their discussion, and Karen walks down to the edge of my pool, shining her light around as if looking for a way across.

She says something to John, and then to the others. They turn around, and Karen begins to remove her clothes. Her boots come off first, revealing feet which look as pampered as her hands, then her strange one-piece suit which turns out to be covering more usual sorts of clothes: a vest or shirt of some sort of elastic material, and short pants. These she removes too, revealing a third layer consisting of two pieces covering her bottom and breasts. Only the most wealthy of those who had come to me before could afford such finery. Perhaps these humans are minor nobles, come to seek their fame?

Finally her clothes are removed, and she stands, naked but for her helmet and light, in my heart. She does not appear self-conscious about her state, nor does she try to cover her sex with her hands as I have seen others do. Rather, she gingerly steps into my dark mud, and walks toward my pool. She has no fear.

I cannot believe my fortune. In ages past, a cult of humans worshipped me for my dark power. To show their true faith, they would baptise themselves, naked, in my dark pool. They knew that to willingly bathe in my waters was to surrender their souls to me, and I would reward them with power for their sacrifice before, inevitably, making them wholly mine. This human female appears, unknowingly, to be emulating that dark rite. But the primaeval laws are clear, it is not one’s intent that matters, only the action itself, performed willingly. A few more steps, and she will have given her soul to me.

She steps into my water. The pool is cool, but warmer than the air, the bottom covered in silty black mud. My water is dark, her light does not penetrate into it, and she cannot see where to place her feet. Carefully, she wades deeper, the water above her knees, then within a few steps it is up to her thighs.

Her soul is mine now, and I could take it and feast on it, but that would kill her body and mind, and I am greedy. I want to gorge on her body and mind, too. I need to take everything that is hers. It will take longer, but I know that she is too innocent to resist me for long.

My water is temptingly close to her sex. She takes one more step, ending up on tip-toes to keep my cool water from surrounding her, her arms outstretched for balance, fingers just touching my water. Then she settles down, lowering her hips into my water.

She clearly does not know it, but she is giving herself to me. I bend my will to the water, and it moves subtly around her sex. I push my water between her outer lips, gently opening them. I push deeper, exposing her sensitive nodule to my water, and finding my way to the entrance of her deep shaft.

She gasps quietly, but her companions assume it is merely the cold shock of entering my water.

The contact between my water and the chakras on her lower spine allows me to make contact with her mind and body. It is far from the control I will have, but at last I can glimpse within her. Her mind is strange: soft, filled with child-like curiosity and play. Unlike those who have come here before, she has endured few hardships in her life, she has never had to overcome the challenges of starvation, injustice and cruelty that make a mind hard and sharp. She has no defences.

Taking her will be like eating a sweet dessert.

Using the small amount of control I have, together with the water touching her most sensitive parts, I begin to arouse her. I feel wet warmth seep from her sex, mingling with my water.

She steps forward again, deeper into my water. As her body moves down, I harden the water at the deep entrance of her sex, so that her weight forces a shaft of my dark water inside her. It is softer than any man’s member, but it fills her insistently.

She gasps again.

She is waist deep in my pool now, my darkness gently lapping over the top of her hips. I deepen her arousal, pulsing the darkness inside her tunnel, and swirling around her nub of pleasure outside. I feel her concern at the sexual feelings she is experiencing, and the emotion adds a delightful piquancy to her taste. My dark water starts to bind with her exposed flesh: a seeping blackness that flows into her skin, corrupting it and making it mine. I worm my way deeper into her mind.

I ensure that her next step takes her much deeper. My darkness flows up her body, around her waist and stomach, into her sensitive navel, up the graceful curves of her midsection and over her breasts. My water caresses her body, hardening and softening at a thousand places where it touches her, like a thousand kisses. Her nipples are hard, and I cover them with my darkness.

She gasps a third time.

Her companion, John, speaks. My bond with her mind is strong enough, and at last I am able to understand their new language. He wants to know if she is safe. I am ready to stifle her response if she says anything about what I am doing to her. I decide that what she will say is innocent enough.

“I’m fine,” she replies, “the water is making me shiver.”

She feels ahead with her foot for the next step, but it is too deep for her. She knows that she will have to start swimming. Again, she has no fear of the water, even though it is too deep for her to stand. It is clear that she has been trained to swim. She crouches down in the water slightly, bringing her arms and shoulders into the water. Only her head remains clear of my darkness.

I change my pattern of stimulation on her body, sending traceries of pressure radiating out from her sex and nipples, like hundreds of tiny fingertips. Her hands, unseen to her companions on the shore, move down to her sex, opening herself wider for me. I can feel her fingers move through her slit, pleasuring herself as I pleasure her. I can control most of her body now, but I permit her to move freely.

She sighs gently as we bring her body to a small climax.

She pushes herself off, starting to swim. She swims with a graceful stroke, keeping her head and helmet above the water. She is a strong swimmer. She kicks her legs like a frog. Each time she opens her legs, I spread her sex wide, licking cool darkness over her. Each time she closes her legs to kick, my water pulses within her shaft. By the time she has reached the far shore, she is panting.

She is close to my most sacred places now, and she is almost wholly mine. Her body, betrayed by its arousal, will do what I command. Her mind, unaware of the danger it is in, fogged by the haze of passion, is now completely surrounded by darkness, a candle waiting to be extinguished. And her soul was mine the moment she willingly entered my pool of darkness.

The edge of the pool she has reached is almost vertical, sinking to untold depths. She clings to the rocks on the edge, finding purchase with her feet underneath my water. Resting, she presses herself up against the silty wall, then pushes herself up, so she is standing, her torso out of the water, leaning her front firmly against the steep muddy rocks at the water’s edge.

I reward her by ensuring that her breasts are cupped naturally by the rocks, resting in soft mud, which I move, teasing her sensitive nipples. I reward her by ensuring that her hips rest against a small, silty outcrop under the waterline. She gently wiggles her hips against the outcrop, working her open sex against the soft silt. I let the dark silt flow into her sex.

Remembering the reason she entered the pool in the first place, she starts looking about, fixed in position. I let her speak freely, not wanting to alert her companions.

“Wow!” she says, wonder filling her voice. “The decoration here is simply amazing.”

“Do you see any passages going out?” John calls from behind her.

I have hundreds of secret little ways and passages leading through my dark garden, but I do not want them to enter it. Not until they are all mine.

“No it doesn’t look like it,” I make her say, with a tone of disappointment.

I sense her confusion and fear. She does not know why she just said that. Why would she lie to her friends? Her mind begins to sense the darkness that surrounds it, and at last sweet fear becomes part of her taste.

She looks around, and I slowly let her become aware of the deep, fertile bed I have let my dark garden grow upon. She sees, under the sparkling crystal growths, that what she had thought were rocks are actually bones. Human bones. A gypsum flower blossoms within a pelvis. A sheet of flowstone encases a spine and ribs. From underneath the bases of my beautiful stalagmites, vacant eye sockets stare from skulls. A calcified skeleton is wrapped around a column of crystal, as if lewdly humping it.

Terror and horror blossom in her mind, and I intensify her arousal. She looks down, and realises that the wall she is clinging to is also filled with bones, covered by my soft, black mud. She pulls back slightly, looking down at her chest. She sees that what she had thought were shallow depressions where her breasts rested are actually the mouths of of two skulls, leering at her. A tendril of soft black mud oozes from each of them like long, grotesque tongues, licking at her breasts.

She tries to scream, but I do not permit her to. Instead, I insert the thought into her mind that what the skulls are doing turns her on. They are as deeply erotic as any other thing she can think of. Fear and arousal war in her mind creating a deliciously dark, sweet taste. I permit her to moan very softly, and press herself forward, letting my skulls work their dark magic.

I find that she is giving in to the arousal too quickly, however, getting lost in the sensations. I let her think about the feelings in and around her sex, and what could possibly be causing them. Her mind runs through all the possibilities of the things that she might be grinding her hips against. Her terror surges back, but I have coupled it to her arousal and the sharp jab of horror nearly brings her to climax.

At last her mind begins to comprehend that she is truly lost in the dark.

It is time to bring this game to an end, to make her mine. I bend my will to the wall of skulls and bones that she is half-standing, half-lying on, and cleave off the outer layer, creating a small avalanche splashing into my pool. She slides in with it, my darkness swallowing her whole. Her friends are shouting and yelling on the far side of the lake, but they are too far away to do anything.

She is dragged deeper and deeper down, until she is drifting far beneath the surface. I deliberately calm her body, so that she can truly appreciate what is happening to her. The light on her helmet still shines, although it cannot cut far through the black water. I move her hand up and deftly twist it off, so that she is drifting alone, deep underwater. Inside she is more frightened and more aroused than she has ever been before.

I cause her openings to relax, letting my dark water flow in. First, the dark pucker of her rear, then her mouth and nose. I do not want her to drown, so rather I force her to drink me in deeply. My water tastes sweet and dark on her tongue, like coffee and cinnamon and the salty tang of dark blood. And then I push up into her womb.

Her body is mine, now. There is no crevice that I cannot control, no nerve, no organ, no muscle that I cannot bend to my will. Her mind knows this, but I demonstrate my power by causing her body to come more massively than it ever has before.

I then show her mind that her soul is now mine, is now part of me, because she entered my sacred waters, naked and willing. How she has unwittingly enacted an ancient rite of allegiance. She does not truly understand, but she knows now that she has no hope.

I offer my dark salvation to her, and she accepts, surrendering. It has been so long since I have eaten I can barely contain my hunger. I devour her, making everything that was her mine.

Soul. Body. Mind.

* * *

I kick strongly, swimming my new body to the surface. I probe my new mind, trying to find the best way to make the other humans mine. They are innocents who have no idea what they are facing, so the task will be easy. Rather, it is a question of what will give me the most pleasure.

I think about how these other humans have interacted, and I realise that John, Mary and Karen form a triangle. From the way that John has acted towards Karen, I know that he wants her. And from the way Mary is acting towards John, I know that she wants him. John is a typical human male, and he will have either, given the chance, but he has not accepted Mary’s advanced for fear of driving Karen away.

To take possession of these humans in the most delicious ways, I will need to split them up, divide them. This attraction and tension between John, Mary and Karen will provide the perfect opportunity.

I break the surface, and pretend to gasp and choke for air. The others have rushed to the water’s edge, and are frantically looking for me. I can hear their voices, full of concern asking if I am all right. I sputter for a bit, and then tell them that I am OK, that I got dragged under and disoriented, but I found my way up.

I swim to shore, wading out of the water. I do my best to act shocked and scared, accepting the offered hands and support. I pretend not to notice the way that John’s gaze lingers on my nakedness, and I lean more closely on him as he helps me walk to the where the backpacks were left.

I sit on the ground, head resting between my legs. Beth gets a towel from my pack, and drapes it over my shoulders.

“I’m all right,” I say, “I just need a moment to catch my breath.”

“OK,” says Beth, “why don’t we take a break, maybe have a snack. We can probably fit in a bit more exploration before we should start heading out.”

“Sure,” says John, “although I guess we should be careful, it seems like some of this area is unstable.”

The others rummage through their packs for water and food. Beth brings my pack over to me, and then goes to get my clothes from down by my water’s edge. I let my breathing gradually reduce, pretending to calm down.

“I should get dressed, before I get hypothermia,” I say, and start rubbing myself dry with the towel.

I stay seated for a while, drying my back, arms and legs. It is a shame to remove the sweet dark water from my body, but some of the darkness does rub in, leave a slight stain on the skin of my new form. Eventually, I stand, and start drying my legs. Beth and Mary have averted their eyes, but I see that John is staring straight at me. I pretend not to notice, but Mary is watching John closely.

“Give her some privacy, John,” she hisses, and John turns away, hanging his head.

I guess that his apparent remorse is from being caught, not for looking.

Once I am dry, I start putting on my clothes. I would prefer to remain naked, but that would raise suspicions that I am not ready to raise yet. I decide against wearing my bra or pants, as no-one will be able to tell under my overalls, and there may be advantage to being able to expose myself swiftly. I have to wear the shirt, however, as it will be obvious if the collar cannot be seen at my neck. I bundle the undergarments and pants up in my towel, and put them in my bag.

I pull on the shirt, and then pull on the overalls, fastening the snaps.

“I’m decent,” I say, as I finish the last snap.

While I put on my socks and boots, the others start to discuss what to try next.

“Just before I fell, I think I saw an opening about 5 metres up that wall over there,” I pitch in, shining my torch an a patch of wall to my left. “It shouldn’t be too hard to free-climb, and it looks like it could be fun to see what its like up there. A different level may mean a whole new section of cave.”

John appraises the wall. “Yeah, that looks climbable.”

Mary shakes her head. “I’m not climbing that if I don’t have to. You know I’m not as strong a free-climber as you, John.”

“How about John and I try it, and we’ll see if it goes anywhere. If it does, we can lower a handline for you,” I say, in a reasonable tone.

“That sounds reasonable,” says John, with a hint too much eagerness in his voice, but Beth and Mary nod their agreement.

* * *

The climb is fairly simple, and as I knew their would be, a passage leads back. However after a short distance it ends, and the only way on is a shaft leading up. It is narrow enough that it will be easy to climb by wedging our bodies against the walls so that we cannot fall.

John and I relay this information back down to Beth and Mary, and hey decide to stay put until we find where the chimney-like passage goes. I climb above John, and although I cannot see him, I can feel his eyes watching my rear and legs as I climb.

John and I reach the top of the narrow shaft, and we find a place where we can rest and catch our breath. My plan is to seduce John, and make him mine, and then use him to seduce Mary, and this is a perfect place to start. We are out of earshot of the others, and we are sitting in a low passage, our legs stretched out on the ground, our backs against the cold stone wall. We are facing one another, John on one side of the passage, I on the other.

“So, did you like what you saw earlier?” I ask in a sultry whisper.

John sputters, unable to form an answer to my direct question.

“Oh, I saw you looking,” I say. “Do you want to see some more?”

His eyes wide, but he does not trust himself to respond. I slowly pop the press-studs of by overalls, pulling the fabric aside. He sees that I am wearing a T-shirt, but it is clear that I am not wearing my bra underneath. His eyes widen even further as I reach the last snap and he realises that I am not wearing any pants. Or panties.

I raise my hands, pushing the shirt up over my breasts, then cupping them. The beam of his light is striking my chest squarely.

“You do like them, don’t you?”

John nods, slack-jawed. I am beginning to see just how weak he is when it comes to relating to people. He may not be as useful as I had first thought.

After a moment, it seems like he is not going to take the initiative, so I prompt him.

“Would you like to see more?”

He nods again. Internally I sigh, I am going to have to prompt him all through this, but at least that will make him more pliable. I sit forward, and pull my arms from the top of the overalls, letting them fall behind me. Then I gracefully lift my rear and push the overalls clear of my hips and down to my ankles. I am exposed now, from my chest down to the pool of cloth around my boots.

I lift my knees up, and then spread them apart, so that John can clearly see my pubic hair and my sex. I cup my breasts again.

“Why don’t you come over here?” I tease.

John gets up and crawls over until he is kneeling beside me. I reach for his hands, and bring them up to my breasts.

“You like their feel, don’t you,” I purr.

He squeezes my breasts inexpertly, completely failing to touch them in an arousing way. I pretend to enjoy it, moaning lightly in what he will take to be an erotic way.

“Why don’t you suck on them, lick them,” I whisper.

And he does, latching his moth on the nipple of the nearest breast, and suckling, moving his tongue over it. It is far from the best attention I have ever received, but it is starting to arouse me. Just when it is starting to get good, however, he switches to the other breast. He switches back and forth several times, but his technique is sorely lacking.

Eventually I tire of his efforts on my breasts. It is time to see if he can do better if he is given a more direct opportunity. I place my hand on the back of his head, and gently press it downwards. He looks up at me questioningly.

“You want me to, you know... lick you?” he asks.

“That’s the idea.”

“But my neck doesn’t bend that way.”

I resist the urge to snap it right then and there. He is useless.

“Then you’ll have to scoot around so you’re in front of me,” I say trying to keep the exasperation from my voice.

He does not notice, because he willingly moves himself so that he is kneeling between my legs. It is clear that he will need some instruction if I am to get anything from this.

“Lick the little bump in the centre, near the top of the slit,” I say. “You can put your fingers up inside me once you get going, if you like.”

He doesn’t answer, but he starts to lick, and like instructed, he concentrates his attention on my clit. Eventually he puts a finger inside my, and wiggles it ineffectually. This is OK, but I need more than that to get off. I put my hands on the back of his head, and lift my hips, so that I am grinding myself into his face as he licks. This is better, and after a few minutes of this I reach a small climax.

I relax my grip on his head, and he pulls back, smiling a stupid grin. He starts undoing the buttons of his overalls. He clearly thinks that he is going to fuck me now, but I need him horny and frustrated for what I have planned.

It is clear to me now that John will be a pathetic agent. If the need were extreme enough, I could teach his body and mind to act with the confidence, drive and skill that would be needed. But that would take time. But I can still use him, even if I do not make him mine. Mary seems to desire him, and I may be able to use him to distract Mary while I take control of Beth.

“Not now,” I say. “We can’t spend too long sitting here or the others will start to get worried.”

He appears to be starting to object, but I kneel up, and kiss him passionately on the mouth, stifling what he has to say. I taste myself on his mouth. I drive my tongue into his mouth, and find his hand, bringing it up to feel my wet slit.

“Later,” I say, firmly.

* * *

We continue down the passageways, and as I well know, it is soon clear that they are leading back to my central chamber. John is trying to hide his disappointment.

“Let’s go back to the others,” I say. “There were a few side passages back there, but it looks like we don’t need to do much climbing to get to them.”

John just nods.

As we are almost back in my heart, I pause at a point where I know that Mary can see us, but Beth cannot. I push John back against the wall and kiss him hard. He tries to match my passion, but he is a poor kisser.

As we enter the cavern, Mary is looking daggers at us. I act innocently, but John is guiltily avoiding Mary’s gaze.

I report what we have found, and suggest that some of us should continue to wait here, while the others explore the side passages we found.

Mary leaps on this idea, suggesting that perhaps she and John should do the exploring, while Beth and I wait.

I surprise her by acquiescing. Beth just shrugs. Forestalling further discussion Mary doesn’t even bother to grab her pack, and leads John back into my maze of tunnels.

I know that John and Mary while be awhile. Mary knows that if John is to be her man then she must have him now, or he will be mine. And John is too weak-willed to resist her advances. He will let her have him, and if he had the chance he would let me have him, too.

I sit and wait by the backpacks. Beth is down by my pool, but I know she will not go in. She does reach down and touch my mud, squeezing a lump between thumb and forefinger. It is smooth and dark, and smears onto her skin. She turns to me.

“Karen, this mud is amazing!” she says, with enthusiasm. “Feel how smooth it is.”

My body’s mind remembers playful episodes with Beth and others in the past. I stand, and move down by the pool, picking up a handful of my mud, holding it in my hand. I squeeze, letting it flow slowly between the fingers of my clenched fist.

“Oooh, yes!” I say, feigning surprise, “It’s almost creamy. And so black, too.”

Beth has picked up a handful now, and is rolling it between her hands. I form my face into a mischievous grin, and look pointedly at the mud in my hand, and then at Beth.

Beth looks at me. “Oh no you don’t!” she half-squeals, and then, seeking to get the first shot off, she flings the handful of my mud at me. I half-heartedly dodge, letting it hit my overalls.

I fling what I have in my hands at her, hitting her back as she turns and ducks. We exchange several more handfuls until our hands are covered in my mud, and our faces and hair are spattered with darkness. My mud is powerful, but there is not enough on her to have an effect yet.

I scoop yet another handful, but rather than throwing it I move towards Beth. She hits me squarely in the chest as I run to her, but too late she realises my intention. She turns to run, but my hand has her collar, and I force the handful of my mud down the back of her shirt. Beth squirms as my mud flows down her back. She turns back to me, determination in her eyes.

“I’m gonna get you for that, Karen.”

She quickly scoops some more of my mud up, and I do what she expects, fleeing from her. As I dodge out of her way, I can sense that my mud is starting to work as it flows down Beth’s back, reaching the chakras along her spine. I direct my mud to seek and bind closely with the skin over the chakras. It flows at my command, and soon I can feel my control start to seep into Beth’s body and mind. I start to arouse her, turning what had been play for her into something more.

Finally, I let her catch up with me, pausing, kneeling in the mud, facing her, as if I am out of breath and surrendering. She reaches me, bending over to put my mud down my back, and I let her. But as she does so, I pretend to flinch, and with one hand I pull upon the front of her shirt, while I grab some more mud with the other, stuffing it down the front of her shirt. It is an awkward shot, but I get enough of it in.

Beth, overbalanced and surprised, collapses forward into my arms. I ratchet up the heat in Beth’s loins, and suddenly we are kissing, kneeling, and she is leaning her weight on me. Our tongues tangle, and I direct the mud in the front of Beth’s chest to flow over her breasts and nipples. Beth gasps at the sensations she is feeling. The sensations I am causing in her.

We do not speak, but I firmly push her back so that she is kneeling upright, resting on her folded legs. I lean in and kiss her again, as I open the studs of her overalls. She trembles as each of them pop open, from her chest down to her crotch. She has light clothes underneath, an old T-shirt now covered in mud and, below, shorts.

I am entering the endgame now. I know that I have no need for the shirt, so I apply my full strength, sundering it down the front. The bra she wears underneath is similarly dealt with.

I pull back from Beth, looking at my handiwork. She is exposed, panting, her chest and breasts covered in my mud. I watch it slowly, slickly spreading. I lock eyes with her, then slowly, deliberately, I grab a handful of mud in each of my hands and bring them up to her breasts, smearing them with thick, smooth darkness.

I can feel Beth’s confusion and conflict, and it is sweet to me. She does not understand what is happening to her, but she is helpless to stop it. She enjoys the heat and the passion of the moment, but rightly fears the strangeness of it.

I continue to spread my mud over Beth, covering her stomach, reaching around her sides, then reaching for her shoulders, pushing the overall, and the remains of her shirt and bra off to lie loosely behind her back. I find my face close to hers, so I lean in a little and we kiss some more. My hands roam over her back.

“You are mine now, delicious Beth,” I whisper, letting some of the true darkness of my true voice filter out. “A sweet morsel for me.”

I feel her shiver, taste the fear in her mind that my statement causes. But she has lost far too much control to do anything about it. I finish working on her arms, and her body is now darkness from her waist up to her neck. In the dim light of my headlamp, I can see my mud flowing in fractal waves across her skin, sending shockwaves of feeling deep inside her.

I stand, pulling her up by the hands. She cannot resist me at this point. We kiss once again, and then I crouch down in front of her, my hands sliding down her sides, pulling her shorts and overalls down to her ankles. I pull on her boot laces, and brace her shoes as she steps, one foot at a time out of her shoes and socks. My mud oozes up between her toes and runs over the tops of her feet.

I lean forward, finding her salty slit with my tongue, tasting the sweet nectar from within mingled with the clean sweat of exertion.

“Oh yes,” I say, again with a hint of my darkness, “very sweet indeed.”

The spike of her fear is like a pungent spice, adding to the delightful mix. I lick and tease her as my hands spread darkness over her legs down the sides, and up the insides. Down the sides, and up the insides.

She comes.

There is not much of her left that is not mine now. I step up and back, and her legs are unable to hold her upright. I let her fall forward to her knees, looking blankly forward. The force of her fall pushes her knees deeply into the soft mud. She is covered in blackness now, except for her head and a band around her hips, rear and sex.

I leave her kneeling there as I gracefully remove my clothes, showing my body off to her, savouring the way she longs to touch and taste me. And savouring her frustration at being unable to move to fulfil her desires. I tease her, stepping forward, and holding her head to my sex, so that she can smell it. I grind on her so that she feels my lower lips spread over her mouth and nose.

Finally, I let her pleasure me. I hold myself open with my mud covered hands and carefully direct her actions so that she licks me just so. The darkness on my hands drips into my pussy, adding to my pleasure. I smile as some of my mud gets on her tongue, with its taste of coffee and chocolate and cinnamon and blood. She longs to spit it out, but she cannot. I smear more over my sex, feeling it spread deep inside me, feeling her licking it and tasting it, taking delight in her terror as my mud runs down her throat.

I let my body come.

Shaking, I kneel down in my mud, facing what is left of Beth, my legs spread slightly so that my knees press against the side of her legs. My breasts and stomach press up against her as I kiss her. I feel my mud on her transferring itself to me. I permit her to answer my kiss, moving her tongue and lips.

My hands move over her rear, spreading my delicious blackness over her. Filling her rear crack, I move my hands over her rear hole, and permit her to tremble at my touch. I open her slightly with my fingers, and my darkness flows insider her. Inside her head, she screams at the invasion, but her mouth is mine now, and it is far too busy kissing me to obey her.

I break the kiss, and look at her, taking pleasure in the feral panic deep within her eyes. Still looking at her, I bring my hands around to her front, working down from her waist in broad strokes, spreading my mud through her fine pubic hair and around the outside of her sex. I pause, my hands covered in sweet darkness, just above her pink slit. She knows she is mine now. I smile and permit her to close her eyes when she truly accepts defeat.

As her lids flutter closed, I stroke my fingers down her wet gash, filling it with my dark matter. She orgasms as it flows around her most sensitive areas, and I push my fingers deep inside her, bringing it to her deepest corners. It flows deeper and deeper into her, and the orgasm continues.

Defeated, crushed by a body that has betrayed her, a mind overcome by orgasm and fear, and a soul lost in darkness, she is mine. I stand up and out of the way, letting her fall forward. My sweet black mud is deep, and it swallows her whole so that I may finish taking control of my new possession.

* * *

I pull my new body out of my mud. Standing, I embrace my other body, and we kiss. John and Mary will still be a little while before they return from their tryst, so I take the time to joyfully spread black mud all over the body that was Karen. I bring pleasure to myself as I let the darkness flow all over, and deep inside.

In the distance, I sense that John and Mary are done. I must make my bodies presentable. My bodies put on their overalls and boots, but I have no use for their other clothes now. I let the clothes sink deep into my mud. I cause the mud to flow away from my bodies’ heads, necks and hands, making it look like we had a mud-fight, but not revealing the thick, dark, creamy layer that covers my bodies underneath the overalls.

It is time to gather in the remaining humans. I quickly find the water bottles in Mary’s pack, and pour out their contents on the ground. The bottles are strange, made of some light-weight metal. Moving down to my lake, I fill them with my darkest water, and return them to Mary’s bag. I fill the water bottles from my packs as well.

I seat my bodies down, and have them sip from the dark water in their flasks while I wait.

John and Mary finally enter my cavern. Mary is walking purposefully, and she looks at the body that was Karen with a triumphant smile. She thinks she has won John from me. John cannot look at me, he is the picture of guilt and indecision. I pretend not to notice this body language with either body.

“It looks like all those passages loop around as well,” Mary says.

She rummages around her pack until she finds a water bottle. Opening it, she takes a sip. She pulls a face, her triumph momentarily forgotten.

“This tastes funny,” she says, “there must be some mud or metal or something in it.”

Nevertheless, she drinks again, a larger gulp this time. She sighs in satisfaction after drinking, a distinctly un-Mary-like reaction. John looks at her strangely. She raises the flask to her lips again, this time drinking deeply, my sweet dark water spilling out the sides of her mouth and down her neck. She continues to drink, gulping the water down, until the bottle is empty.

I make the water that has escaped her mouth flow down her neck and under her clothes, rivulets splitting and twisting, soaking the front of her shirt and bra, and unerringly finding her nipples. I can feel that I am beginning to gain some influence over her body and mind, so I start to tease her breasts and neck with a hundred tingling kisses everywhere the water has run.

She does not know why the water tastes so good, feels so good, but she casts aside the bottle, grabs her pack, and extracts her other flask.

“Are you feeling OK, Mary?” asks John.

She ignores him as she brings the second bottle to her lips, sucking the water down greedily. Her other hand drops her bag, and then moves up to caress her breast through her overalls. She can barely feel it through the thick fabric, and with a few deft twists she opens enough studs to let her hand inside.

She is spilling almost as much as she is drinking at this point, and my water is flowing down over her stomach and into her sex. I gather the myriad streams into one at the top of her slit, and let it flow through, using my will to make it rub hard against her sensitive areas.

She lets the second bottle fall, spent, from her hand, then rips open the snaps so she can get better access to her breasts. Her mind is fogged with arousal, and I plant the idea that she finds my bodies attractive, that she wants to have sex with them. She turns slightly, and locks eyes with the body that was Karen, holding her breasts out and smiling. She thumbs her nipples, clearly erect, through the glistening wet fabric of her shirt and bra.

“Mary, what on earth are you doing?” John cries. “What’s gotten into you?”

I have full control of her mouth and throat now, so I make her speak.

“You’re pathetic John. I faked it with you just now. I’m getting more pleasure from my left thumb now than you gave to me the whole time you were supposedly making love to me. It’s no wonder that was your first time.

“And I bet Karen or Beth could do a better job at licking me than you did. They at least know where to put it!”

John stares open-mouthed at Mary. Mary is more than a little surprised to be saying these things, but the sex she had with him earlier left her unsatisfied. I worm a thought into her mind that she finds putting John in his place a turn on, and I sense wetness between her thighs.

I decide it is time to ratchet things up a little. I move the my body that was Beth up behind my body that was Karen, putting my arm around my neck, my hand resting lightly on my breast.

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” I say through Beth’s mouth, letting my darkness seep through into my voice. “When you two were gone, Karen made me come harder than I ever have before, with just her tongue and mouth.”

“But it wouldn’t be hard to be better than John,” I say through Karen’s mouth, as I stand. “I get more stimulation from my vibrator than I did from him earlier.”

“He’s also tiny,” I make Mary say. “His cock couldn’t even stay in me while we were doing it.”

John is shocked, speechless, his eyes betraying fear, shame and hate. I look directly at John through Karen and Beth’s eyes.

“Mary will be mine, now John.” I say, filling my voice with darkness, and thrilling at the fear and desire it incites in Mary. “Just like Beth is mine.”

On cue, I use Beth’s hands to open the overalls on the body that used to be Beth’s, revealing the dark mud covering her. It glistens and oozes over the skin. I let the overalls fall off the body’s shoulders onto the ground, and kick off the boots, stepping the body away from the clothes, naked except for my mud.

“Don’t you like seeing her naked, John?” I say through Karen’s mouth. “You were always looking, hoping to catch a glimpses of all of us.”

I remove the overalls from the body that was Karen’s as it continues to speak, words weighty with darkness.

“You liked my body earlier,” I say, roaming my hands over my breasts. “Don’t you want show that we’re wrong, that you are a man.”

I move the mud so that it forms a thick, dark phallus, sprouting from deep within my sex.

“Do you think you can compete with this, John?” I ask, as the black shaft throbs and glistens. “Or perhaps you’d rather feel it as it enters you from behind.”

It is too much for John. Overcome with fear, he flees, running down the tunnel he thinks is the way out. I will deal with him at my leisure.

Mary is transfixed. At this point she can probably run if she wants to, although there will be no escape. But instead, she is caught like a rabbit in a snare. I saunter over to her, and embrace her, kissing her.

“Now I have you all to myself,” I say.

I make her mouth kiss me back, raising the arousal in her loins. While we are locked in the kiss, I bring my other body over. As she stands still, I strip her, one body working from the front, the other from behind. Her overalls pool around her feet, her soaked shorts and underpants on top of them. I turn off her helmet light, and remove her helmet. Her shirt I pull over her head from behind, and then unsnap her bra, letting it fall forward. I kneel down in front of her, and untie her shoes, gently lifting each foot and removing it from the shoes and clothes.

Then I take off the helmets my bodies are wearing, and switch off the lights, plunging Mary into darkness. There is no rush. John will not interfere with us. Mary will become mine, but I can take my time with her.

With her standing in the darkness, I ravish her, my tongues licking her, my mouths kissing her, my hands caressing her, feeling her, making her come again and again. I lead her down to the edge of the pool, and lie in the mud while she kisses and licks my mud-covered bodies, tasting the chocolate-cinnamon-blood-earth that covers me. She willing finds my slits with her hands and tongue. She joyfully accepts my dark phallus inside her.

Her body is lost to lust and ecstasy. Her mind is lost in the deliciousness of carnal acts she would have found perverted so recently. Her soul has lost its purity. She has surrendered to me, but I have not shown her what she is truly surrendering to. She is merely giving it to the pleasure and desire I have inspired in her, not to terror, to fear, to the loss of hope.

I bend my will to the mud, and force up the bones of the legions of dead that lie beneath it. As she kneels like a dog in the mud, I raise a skeleton up underneath her. She cannot see it in the dark, but she can feel the cold, wet bones emerge between her legs, underneath her stomach, between her arms. I let her sense in her mind what she cannot see.

The skull which is nestled between her legs, mouth open in an obscene grin as a tongues of my mud emerge from its vacant mouth, nose and eyes, to lick her inner thighs.

The arms and legs, powered by rippling dark muscles and sinews of mud, which wrap around her body and pull her down into an unholy embrace.

The ribs, which yawn wide, opening like the maw of some malevolent creature, swallowing her torso and trapping her inside the skeleton’s chest. Forcing her dark, wet slit onto the waiting skull and its tongues of darkness. Forcing her breasts into the black mud which swirls around and over them.

The pelvis, and the shaft of darkness which emerges from it, seek and find her mouth. Branching and enveloping her head, a blossoming of tendrils pulls her head down over the central shaft, invading her.

A field of bones has risen from the mud like flowers. The bodies of her friends, my bodies now, perform lewdly with the bones.

Inside her head, what is left of Mary is consumed with terror. What had been a sweet surrender to dark carnal desires had become a grotesque dance with death. She realises just how deep she is, how far she is from light. She is delicious, filled with sweet horror, desire, hopelessness.

I move Karen’s body to lie atop Mary’s back, the black mud phallus extending from Karen’s slit slipping slowly between her rear cheeks, finding the opening that lies between them and forcing it open. I let it extend and flow deep within her.

As she feels it moving through her, I make her body begin to massively orgasm, linking her aroused state with the foul embrace of the dead. With my mouth near her ear, I speak, letting my full force flow through the voice.

“You are mine Mary. Surrender yourself to my corruption. Run to my embrace. Become like Karen and Beth.”

I let her sense how happy, satisfied, powerful Karen and Beth’s minds have become now they are mine. I show her their souls, prized parts of me, joined more closely to me and to each other than the deepest mortal lovers. I give her a taste of John’s distant fear as he runs and stumbles, lost in the darkness. I make her understand that if she becomes mine she will sample his sweet fear completely, that she will help bring John to me as well.

Her body has been at the peak of orgasm for longer than she can remember now, and as the tendril of blackness that invaded her rear finally bursts forth from her mouth. She gives herself to me completely, and the mud swallows her, captured by the skeleton’s embrace, pinned from above by my body.

I am in no rush, so I take my time as I consume her.

* * *

Silently I move through the darkness, my three bodies moving swiftly and unerringly. I know where John is cowering in the dark, his light spent. He has few uses, but he will be mine.

I lose myself briefly in the poetry of my bodies motion, three female forms running naked, sure-footed, in darkness. Ducking just so to avoid a low-hanging roof. Placing a foot inches from a deep hole in the floor, never slowing.

I arrive at where he lies, and speak, my voice issuing from all three mouths in unison.

“You will come with me now, John. Stand!”

His fear is like a beacon as he stumbles to his feet. I surround him and strip him naked, three pairs of hands working together to remove his clothes. As I do so, I let fingers and palms linger in intimate places: brushing his nipples, running down his inner thigh, cupping his sack, gently spreading his rear cheeks. He shudders at my touch, but does not move.

“Very good, John. Would you like a reward?” I ask, mockingly.

I don’t expect an answer, and I don’t wait for one. I press up against him, trapping him between my three bodies. I ensure that he feels my breasts and crotches pressing up against him, moving ever so slightly to give myself gentle stimulation. The mud from my bodies transfers onto him. The body which was Karen’s is in front of him, and I hold his head in place while I kiss him, hard on the mouth. He does not respond to the kiss, but I linger in it.

As I break off, he makes a single fear-filled sob. I laugh darkly, and push him downwards, forcing him into a crouch, his head level with my sex.

“Pleasure me!” I say as I part my lips with my hands. “Lick me until I come!”

He starts licking me, hesitantly. It is clear that he does not relish the taste of the black mud that covers me. As before, he is inexpert and clumsy. As before, I push myself onto his face, grinding myself on him to make me come. What he is unable to give me, I take for myself.

Having humiliated him once more, and demonstrated how weak he is, I force him to his feet again, and lead him through the darkness back to my core.

* * *

We arrive at my heart, and my first action is to lead John to the water of my dark pool. Naked, the body which was Karen enters, and he follows, led by her hand. He flinches slightly at his first step in the water, and after that he moves hesitantly, blindly feeling his footing in the water.

“Duck your head under,” I instruct as he finally reaches a point where the water is up to his armpits.

He dunks himself, and in so doing his soul is mine. Although cowed, he has bathed in my pool of his own free will. He could have refused, could have forced me to impose my will on him, but his mind is so weak that he surrendered himself without complaint.

Now that his soul is mine, I violate his body, sending me dark waters deep inside his mouth, stomach, and rear. I bind myself with his skin, and send my will deeper yet within him. Swiftly I bring his body under my power, but I leave his mind untouched. His soul is mine, his body is mine, but I have no use for his pathetic mind.

I move his body out of the water, letting it breathe again. I let his mind sense the death and corruption that surrounds him. His fear leaves him unreasoning, and I find it delicious.

Moving as one, my three bodies smear mud all over his skin, covering his body with darkness. His shaft, now slick with mud, swells as I let his body become aroused. I taste the bittersweet taste of the mud as I make each of my bodies suck and lick his phallus, and it swiftly becomes thicker, harder and longer than it has ever been before.

Then I lie his body down in the mud, face upwards. I move the body that was Karen’s over him, and impale myself on his centre. Lubricated by the mud, he slides deeply inside me and, after a moment’s pause at the sensations, I start moving on him, grinding my hips down on him. Grinding my clit on him.

I kneel my other bodies on either side of him, knees apart, and move his hands so that they are playing with my dark moist slits. The pleasure is intense, and builds quickly, my bodies moving in a united rhythm. I can sense that his body will climax soon, and all three of my own are very close as well.

Once more I bend my will towards the mud, and as each of my bodies reaches a hand down into it, they each draw forth a shard of black crystal. Each shard is the length of a forearm, razor sharp, tapering to a wicked point.

My three throats scream the unholy words of power. As we all come, I gently but inexorably drive the blades of crystal into his body. One slashes his throat. One I draw across his abdomen. And the third I sink into his heart.

All four bodies continue to come as a darkness spreads from the wounds, welling up and consuming his body, seeping like fiery black blood, turning his flesh to dark shadow and smoke. As his body is dying, converting itself to dark energy for my bodies to use, I gather John’s soul to me. And then I slowly dismember his mind, taking each piece and eating it, savouring the terror and arousal and pain that only these death throes can bring. The dark shadow melts off his bones, and flows up through the dark centres of my bodies. The black torrent touches the chackras of my bodies as it is absorbed, heightening the intensity of the orgasms.

And then it is done.

His blackened bones rest in the mud. They will be a fine addition to my crystal garden.

My bodies radiate their new-found dark sorcerous powers. They are ready now to go out into the world and turn people to my worship.

I raise the body which was Karen, and draw forth the only remaining piece of his flesh. His phallus, transformed by the energies which flowed through it into an artifact of power, is now a shaft of black crystal. I hold it aloft as I scream my triumph, letting it ring throughout all my dark passageways.

My hunger is satiated.

But I will soon need to feed again.

* * *