The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Are you feeling okay? You’re looking a little tired, Melissa,” Sonia said, a queer little smirk playing at her mouth.

“You do look a little raggedy, Mel,” Cynthia agreed.

She and I were studying for an exam at her house and Sonia had just gotten home from school.

“It’s nothing. I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“I bet,” Sonia said. Her sister looked at her, but Sonia didn’t explain herself. Instead, she just gave me a smug little grin before turning to leave.

“She’s a total freakazoid, isn’t she?” Cynthia said.

We had forgotten about her, returning to our studies, and a few minutes had passed when I first smelled that same smell that had filled my bedroom when I’d woken up the night before. It was hard to describe, something familiar, something pungent but sweet at the same time. It was something alluring, but somehow repellent at the same time.

“Do you smell that?”

“Smell what? I don’t smell anything,” Cynthia said.

A burst of flavor hit my tongue. Like the smell, it was hard to pin down. It was mildly earthy but somehow also a bit sour and sweet. It was the same flavor I’d tasted the night before when I woke up and had that incredible climax.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt heat growing between my legs. My center went liquid, and that was when I realized what was about to happen.

“Melissa, are you okay?”

I felt my blood pumping as my arousal grew, and I had the strongest urge to touch myself right there in front of her.

“Actually, no, I don’t think I am. I need to go,” I said, and I rushed to jam my books into my backpack.

“What’s wrong?”

A hot shiver went through me, and I had to clench my thighs together.

“I just don’t feel well. I’ll call you later. Sorry about this,” I said, and then I all but ran from her house.

My car was parked on the street out front and I barely made it there in time. I panted for breath, and my body felt like it was on fire.

I was so turned on that I could barely think about anything but how much I needed to touch myself.

The smell and taste followed me, but now there was also a heat and a pressure on my face. It felt like something soft and wet was pressing against me, but there was nothing there.

I tossed my bag across into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel. With the door closed, I had at least a little privacy and my hand slipped into my pants as if on its own.

There was no way I could drive in that state, not even just enough to get a few blocks away from their house. My throbbing clit demanded attention in a way that I couldn’t resist. Nothing mattered but the moist heat and the smell and how turned on I felt.

My fingers circled and stroked and I let my head loll back as the unstoppable pleasure assailed me. It didn’t matter that someone could wander along and see me rubbing myself off in my car; I was that desperate to come.

At least the rolled-up windows helped contain the sound of my cries as I moaned and gasped with pleasure as the ecstatic perfection of total release exploded through me.

When it finally ended, I sat there in my seat, thighs quivering, gasping for breath, and found that I was frozen again. I kept breathing and still shook with aftershocks of pleasure, but I couldn’t make a voluntary movement of any sort.

I willed my body to action, demanded it obey me, but my flesh did not respond. I tried to at least pull my hand from my panties, but again, I was completely frozen. Feeling that disconnect between my mind and body had been scary in the comfort of my bed, but parked on the street in broad daylight, it was even more horrifying.

The sensation that something hot and wet was on my face faded. The strange taste and smell weakened as well. I was stuck with my thoughts and the passing glow of the amazing orgasm. I remembered Sonia’s smug grin, and what she’d said, and for the first time I found myself truly considering the voodoo doll as an explanation for my strange symptoms.

What if it was real? It couldn’t be real, of course, but how else could I explain my strange episodes of sudden arousal and Sonia’s weird behavior? The pleasure had only started after she saw me there and left the room. Had she gone to her bedroom and done something to the doll that made me get horny? Was it possible that she was making me come?

It was crazy to even consider, but I was trapped in my car with my hand down my pants, powerless to move a muscle. How else could I explain that? There wasn’t any sort of neurological disorder that involved getting off and then being paralyzed, was there?

The thought that Sonia could make me get off whenever she wanted by playing with the doll was bad enough, but the paralysis worried me even more. The clock on the dash showed that it had already been two minutes since I’d lost the ability to move. If Sonia was making me freeze, what if it lasted longer and longer each time?

The mad idea of it was horrifying; it was all too easy to imagine Sonia cackling as she molested the doll, amusing herself by making me come for her entertainment.

The thought of it made me feel even more helpless. I had no other explanation for what was happening to me, and if I was right, I was well and truly fucked. Sonia was not the sort of person who you’d want to have the power to mess with you.

Swirling waves of fear, humiliation and anger pulled me down into a dark place inside myself where all I could do was rage powerlessly in the prison of my frozen body.

When sensation came back to first my fingers and toes, it was only a limited relief. I was convinced that I was caught up in something terrible, and I had to find a way out of it. At least I could finally pull my hand away from my pussy.

The bottled up raw emotions of being trapped in my body and knowing that I was being forced to climax somehow by a chubby eighteen-year-old amateur voodoo priestess hit me physically then, and tears welled up in my eyes as I started the car in a rush.

I managed to drive two blocks down before I pulled back over to sit sobbing there until I could compose myself.

At first I wanted to drive back there and confront her, but I was struggling with what that meant. If I did, I’d be admitting I believed voodoo was real, and that was crazy.

Could there be any other explanation, though? What else could explain the unexplained surges of arousal or the paralysis? My thoughts kept going back to that superior look on Sonia’s face when she’d said “I bet”.

I could only think of two possible explanations. Either Sonia’s voodoo doll was for real, or I was going insane. Not a “she’s a little different” type of crazy, but full-blown check-yourself-into-a-facility level of nuts.

Even if I was going to go accuse Sonia of making me get off with a voodoo doll, I couldn’t do it in front of Cynthia.

My eyes were still puffy and red from crying and I felt dirty from getting off against my will in the car. I resolved to go home and straighten myself out before I’d call Sonia on her mobile phone.

She answered on the second ring, “Hi Melissa.”

“Hi Sonia.”

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about what I said before, about the voodoo doll. I think I was rude, and I wanted to tell you I was sorry,” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. My feelings weren’t too hurt. Did something change your mind about magic?”

There was something in the tone of her voice, an undercurrent of self-satisfaction and amusement that disturbed me.

“I guess I’m ready to admit that I don’t know enough to say that magic does or doesn’t exist.”

“Well, that’s a step forward, good for you.”

“What did you do with that doll, anyway?” I asked, attempting to sound as nonchalant about the question as I could.

“As if you don’t know,” she said, pausing for a long moment before she continued, “Tell me, are you feeling better now? You looked like you didn’t feel so hot before. I bet you actually felt pretty hot, though, didn’t you?”

The little bitch was using the doll to fuck with me, and she knew it was working, too.

“How are you doing this to me?”

She ignored my question. “Didn’t you come, Melissa? You really should be thanking me. Where is your gratitude?”

“Gratitude? Please, you have to stop.”

“Why should I? You seemed pretty sure it was bullshit before. Funny how your tune has changed now, isn’t it?”

“I admit you were right. You win.”

“Oh, I haven’t won yet, but I will,” she said, and again that tone of amused arrogance burned in my ears.

“What do you want from me?”

“We should talk about this in person. Can you come over here tomorrow? I have a half-day at school for some teacher thing, and Cynthia doesn’t get home until after two. Can you be here at noon so we can talk in private?”

I’d have to ditch class, but that wasn’t a problem. “Sure,” I said.

“Speaking of being in private, are you alone right now?”

“Yes, why?”

“No reason, just that I am, too. Hang on a sec,” she said. There was a long pause, and then she returned. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

My face felt warm and damp suddenly. The smell came next, and then that taste was in my mouth. I gagged and made a little sound of disgust.

“What are you doing? Stop that, please.”

“Why? Can you smell it? Oh my god, can you taste it?” she asked with a laugh.

“Stop it. You have to stop.”

“Why? Doesn’t it feel good, Melissa? Mmmmhh, it feels good to me,” she said with a little moan.

Whatever she was doing sent waves of pleasure through me. My pussy went so slick that I felt myself leaking my wetness into my panties as I sat there clutching the phone.

“Please, I don’t want this.”

“But I do,” she said, and then she giggled again. “Now enjoy the ride and think of me while you’re coming. See you tomorrow.”

She ended the call as my arousal continued to grow stronger. However she was doing it, Sonia was making me horny, to the point that I already felt the need to touch myself. I hated that she could make me feel so good, and masturbating felt like it would be giving her a victory.

A wave of heat washed over me, and my drooling pussy demanded I tend to it. I was so horny, too horny to fight it as the heat grew more and more oppressive. I slid my hand down into my panties and surrendered to my need.

The weird smell was thick in the hot air as I masturbated, and it soon grew hard to breathe. The strange taste grew stronger as well, and my skin felt wet and tingly all over my body.

My fingers swirled a hard, tight little circle as my pleasure intensified, and then I felt myself hurtling towards the climax I so desperately craved, until I squealed and came with a shuddering, clenching spasm of rapturous sexual release.

It was an incredible orgasm, even more so than when I came in my car, but again, it was followed by that sensation of being disconnected from my body as I felt the paralysis set in.

This time it was five minutes before I regained enough control of my body to sit clutching my knees to my chest on my bed as I sobbed and sobbed.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

After I recovered, I sat there for a long time trying to come to grips with the idea that I was somehow beholden to a voodoo doll, and that my best friend’s perverted little chubster of a sister had control of it.

I couldn’t tell anyone-who would believe me? I had to figure out how to get the doll away from her and destroy it or something, but I didn’t even know if that was safe. What would happen if I tried to get rid of it? If the thing really was magically linked to me, would destroying it kill me or something?

How the hell was I going to break her voodoo curse when I knew exactly fuck-all about voodoo?

That’s when it hit me—I needed to do some research if I was going to get rid of her spell over me.

An hour’s worth of Internet investigation forced me to conclude that the web would not be the answer. Site after site contained vague and sometimes conflicting information about voodoo.

Searching for information about voodoo dolls was even worse; the vast majority of the search results were for toys or pop-culture references to songs or episodes of television shows. I discovered there was an app for my phone that would let me “torture a virtual voodoo doll with a variety of weapons”. The app advertised that it was hilarious fun, but at the moment I didn’t find it amusing at all.

The web wasn’t entirely useless, though. The search engine had also helpfully linked in local business results in my searches, and there was one that caught my eye. It was probably a dead end, but it looked like it could be worth a try.

An hour later, I was at the address. It was in a sketchy-looking neighborhood on the far side of the city, and if it weren’t for the navigation app on my phone, I’m not sure I would have found it. As it was, the store would only be open for another ten minutes.

The sign on the storefront said “Caribbean Food Emporium”, and at first I thought I had the wrong address, but the number over the door was correct.

Then I saw it. A small sign in the window’s corner proclaimed, “Readings, healings, curses and blessings. Voodoo by Madame Devereaux”.

Inside the store, close together rows of shelves were filled with all manner of products related to the islands.

There was a young black woman at the counter along the back wall of the store. She looked about my age, and she only looked up from the magazine she was reading long enough to say “welcome” before returning to her reading.

She seemed annoyed when I walked up to the counter, and she set the magazine aside. Her phone buzzed, and she looked at the screen before silencing it and setting it down on the counter as well.

I stared at the phone—it was the same model that I owned, right down to being the version with the gold-colored trim.

“Can I help you?” She had some kind of island accent. I would have guessed she was from Jamaica, maybe.

This girl was just a darker skinned version of me. She probably had college classes to go to the next day—what could she possibly know about real voodoo? I almost turned around and left, but even if it was probably a waste of time, I had to try.

“I’m looking to see Madame Devereaux?”

“Really? You don’t look like the type to come in here asking to have a curse put on some bitch that slept with your man.”

“It’s not anything like that. I just need some information about voodoo. Can you help me?”

She regarded me for a moment before she turned towards an open doorway behind the counter and called, “Madame! You have a customer.”

The woman who appeared in the doorway was much older, in her fifties at a guess. She looked at the girl and then over at me. The woman’s eyes opened wide, and she stared at me. There was something in her expression; she didn’t just seem surprised—was that fear?

“Oh my. Come with me, girl.”

She gestured for me to follow her around the counter, towards the doorway.

“Shanice? Flip the sign, lock up and go.”

The old woman gestured again for me to follow her, and I went around the counter as Shanice gathered her things and said good night.