The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The doorway led to a dimly lit back room that had two areas, one with a desk and some shelves, overflowing with piles of paper, and the other side an open space with four chairs along two walls, many strange objects lining every surface. Unlabeled bottles and jars here, some creepy little statues and a burlap sack filled with who knows what there, that sort of thing.

White lines crisscrossed the floor, drawn with some sort of granular powder. Something dark stained one corner, and I wondered just what sort of rituals had been performed there.

The old woman offered me a chair, and then she pulled another over and sat facing me. She looked me over again and expelled her breath in a long, sad-sounding sigh.

“I see the dark on you, girl. I got the sight. You got black magic on you, the worst kind. Sex magic. Who do this to you?”

“It was my friend’s sister. She made a voodoo doll.”

“How she make it? Do you know?”

“She made used strips of what she said was special cloth, and she tied a couple of my hairs around it. Ever since then I’ve been having these feelings.”

“Sex feelings?”

When she said it, my heart beat faster. She knew, she really knew.

“Yes. I get really turned on. I feel something hot and wet pressing on me. There’s this smell, this taste in my mouth, and I get hotter and hotter until I come.”

“After you come, then you can’t move?”

“Oh my God, yes. How did you know?”

“That how it go. Longer every time too, right? This girl is using the worst kind of evil sex magic on you. Bad news for you. She using her sex magic to steal your soul, girl.”

“How can that be possible? She said she learned how to do it from some guy that was hot for her on vacation. She’s no voodoo priestess.”

“Everyone know the rituals, but the magic only work for people that have the gift. Everyone be born with a connection to the spirit world, some stronger, some weaker.”

She paused as if to let me take in her words and absorb them before she continued.

“My family have the gift, but our connection don’t be strong. Without a powerful link to the other side, the ritual mean nothing. When someone who have the gift powerful-strong do it, be some bad news.”

I still couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that there could be something magical about Sonia.

“I’m telling you, she’s just my friend’s little sister. She’s just a normal girl.”

“This girl, do she have a lot of boys after her? Do she have a special way to her that just make the boys crazy?”

Sonia had always had that spark to her that somehow drove men wild, despite her attitude and her being on the chubby side. I nodded.

“She don’t be normal. When you have those feelings? That be her pussy you feel. You been smelling and tasting her pussy. She using it to destroy you, girl.”

My mouth fell open, and I just stared at her for a moment. The smell had been faint, but as soon as she said it I realized she was right. The reason it was familiar was that I’d smelled something like it myself, when I masturbated.

“Every time you taste her and she give you her pleasure, you trading away a little bit of you in exchange. Magic don’t like no debts, you got to give a little to get a little. She be giving you a taste of that magic pussy, and you giving her a bit of your ti bon ange, in return.”

“My what?”

“Your ti bon ange,” she said, and she saw that I still didn’t understand her. “Your soul, girl, what make you be you.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. She’s just a high school girl,” I said.

“From the taint of Kalfou on you, I can tell she has the power strong. The mark of her pussy be all over you, I can see it all purple and black at your eyes, nose and mouth.”

“I don’t understand. How does this work?”

“If she make the doll the right way, it was from cloth soaked in her girl juice. She probably use strips she cut from her panties. Once she tied your hair on there, the doll only need the ritual.”

“This isn’t possible. She doesn’t have any special voodoo supplies. She’s just a chubby white girl that spent a week in the islands getting drunk.”

“Ain’t no special things she need. Just some dirt and salt. The power is in the magic. The ritual connect you to her pussy through the doll. After that, all she need to do be hold the doll and make herself come.”

My stomach flipped at the thought of her masturbating with the doll, her probably getting off on thinking about what she was doing to me.

“When she come, she push that pleasure on you through the doll. When she come, you come, and in payment for your pleasure, you give up a little bit of your ti bon ange into the doll.”

She looked at me sadly, her voice growing more serious still.

“When she steal your whole ti bon ange, the dirt and rocks and salt make a spirit jar. Then she put the doll in there and make you kiss her between her legs. Then it be done. The jar seal up your your soul and she own you, girl.”

The old woman let the gravity of her words sink in. I just couldn’t process what I was hearing properly. I knew it was real, I’d felt it, but my mind kept struggling with it still.

“You’re really telling me that she can make me a zombie? I’ll lose my mind and just follow her around doing whatever she says?”

“You don’t lose your mind, no. You just wish you did. You got two parts to your soul. You got your gros bon ange, that control your body, give it life. Then you got your ti bon ange, that little soul be what make you be you. This girl, she using her sex magic to bind up your ti bon ange, to lock it away.”

My mind raced. Sonia wasn’t some evil sorceress that had spent a life devoted to some ancient dark art. She was just a stupid high school girl. How could she know any of this? How much time had she spent with that guy on her vacation? How could any of this be happening to me?

“When it’s done, you still be in there, but with your ti bon ange stole, she be in control. You do anything she want, and you be watching from inside while you do it. Thinking, feeling, but just trapped in there, no nothing you can do but watch. Can’t tell nobody neither, cause if she tell you to act normal then you do.”

“Wait, you said that I would have to go down on her to finish the spell or whatever? If I’m not a zombie yet, she can’t make me do that, so I’m safe, right?”

“No girl, you got it all wrong. You already been a zombie. When you can’t move after she make you come with the doll, what you think you are? If she be with you then, you do anything she say.”

“Oh my god,” I exclaimed.

“God yes, but not your god, child. The true god. Bondye.”

“This isn’t happening, it’s not possible. She’s just my friend’s little sister. She’s just a girl.”

“Ain’t no kind of normal girl that use her pussy to steal your soul! That girl was born with a hotline to Kalfou between her legs, understand? When some idiot taught her the way, he do some powerful evil on the world.”

“Kalfou?”

“Yes, Kalfou. Even Papa Legba got to have a bad side, everyone do.”

Bondye? Kalfou? Papa Legba?

“I don’t understand. This ... none of this makes sense,” I babbled.

She shook her head and raised her hand to point at me, her voice rising as she spoke. “You ain’t got no time to learn voodoo now, girl!”

Satisfied that she had my attention, she calmed and lowered her voice again.

“You got to get out from under this spell while you still can.”

“How? What can I do?”

“The best way be destroy the doll, or the jar. You can’t touch them now, though, the magic don’t let you. There be one other way still,” she said, and she rummaged in the drawer next to her and came up with a bundle of cloth that she offered me.

Something heavy lay inside. I unfolded the cloth until I saw it, a wood-handled knife with a blade about five inches long.

“You got to kill her, girl.”

I stared at the blade for a moment. “Is it some kind of magic knife?”

“No, but it be sharp,” she said with a grin.

Twenty minutes into my drive back across the city, I had just gotten back on the highway when I noticed the smell.

First, it was just a subtle hint of a spice to the air and then a twinge of the flavor on my tongue as the smell grew stronger. The scent and flavor intensified until my car reeked of her.

The taste grew so powerful that my mouth watered. My stomach flipped at the knowledge of the strange smell’s provenance.

Almost worse than being forced to smell and taste her pussy was knowing that she knew it; the thought of her laughing at me as she gleefully forced her pussy power on me made me sick.

It was clear from the call that she knew what she was doing, or she wouldn’t have asked me about the smell. How could she be so twisted, so evil?

The first flare of pleasure hit me then. Alien pleasure forced on me, her pleasure. It was rape; she was raping me with her voodoo pussy. I didn’t want to get off on sniffing her phantom vagina, but what I wanted didn’t matter to her.

I knew the urge to masturbate wouldn’t be far behind the low heat that now simmered between my legs. I found myself shifting in my seat and squeezing my thighs together as I drove.

The urge to touch myself grew stronger as I steered the car for the next exit. Pulling off, I found myself a spot to ride out the coming climax in the parking lot of a strip mall.

The smell and flavor stayed with me, omnipresent, as did the state of arousal, but all three sensations seemed to stabilize as I sat there for five minutes, and then ten more.

I was horny, and I was stuck with the continuous sensory bombardment of having my face pressed between Sonia’s chubby thighs, but I wasn’t riding that inexorable rush of building pleasure that signaled an impending release.

The need to touch myself hadn’t grown so strong that I couldn’t resist it, but still it humiliated me to my core to feel so turned on while I was forced to smell and taste her female parts.

I sat there hating her and waiting for it to happen, but nothing changed. After ten minutes more than that, I found myself getting impatient with her. If she was going to force me to come, at least she could get it over with so I could safely drive myself home.

The sensations grew no stronger, though, nor did they abate. The cloying smell and tangy flavor grew more tolerable with familiarity, the way something nasty usually became bearable with time. Still, my every breath was as fresh with the taint of her evil pussy as the last.

I couldn’t stay there forever, so after an hour of waiting, I started the car and pulled from the parking lot. If I ended up paralyzed behind the wheel and got into a fatal wreck, so be it. At least I wouldn’t have to taste her nasty cunt any more.

Hours later, I felt like I was going to go crazy. The smell, the taste, the heat, the sickly sense of something wet against my face—it was all still going strong.

It was a struggle to act normally around my mother while the sensations of Sonia’s power continued to wash over me. I retired to my bedroom early for the night to wait out the coming climax.

The shameful helplessness made the waiting all the worse. Turning the knife over in my hands, I sat there on my bed, considering the idea that the only way out of my situation might be murder.

Not that I didn’t want to kill her; as I sat there unable to stop from tasting her pussy while I waited for her to make me come against my will, I knew she deserved it. Even so, I had a hard time imagining myself ramming the knife into her body.

I wondered at what she had planned for our meeting the next day, even as I wondered what my own plans were exactly.

It was just before eleven when things changed. I felt it first between my legs, the heat and wetness growing along with an ever more urgent demand that I touch myself.

My breathing quickened and my skin went clammy to where my face felt as damp as if her wetness was pressed to it. The smell and taste of her grew stronger as well, and my humiliation deepened along with my rage.

I got hotter and hotter until I couldn’t fight it anymore. My clenching pussy drooled with slick need and my fingers felt wonderful as I went to work, but I wasn’t in control.

I rubbed myself and it felt great, but my arousal only grew at some outside stimulus of hers, so it was at her pace that I rubbed, matching the intensity of the pleasure she sent me through the doll.

In a way, I was already acting like a puppet, remotely pleasing myself in time to her own self-loving. She could toy with me, raping me and making me feel helpless, and do it all while she got to get off.

The orgasm, when it came, was amazing. As the force of it hit me, I hated the idea that it must feel just as incredible for her, or perhaps even better; Sonia was so evil that knowing she was humiliating me with her self-pleasure probably only made the little bitch enjoy it more.

I used my hand to stifle my cries, afraid that my mother would hear me, and when the paralysis set in, it hit even more quickly than the last time. That’s how I froze, lying on my bed on my side, back arched, one hand in my panties, the other covering my mouth.

The phantom sensations disappeared with my control over my body. It took almost fifteen minutes before I could move again, and for that time, it was a relief to finally not have her flavor and scent at the forefront of my thoughts.

As my body became my own again, the smell of her came back, along with the taste of her. It was a horrible blow because I’d been expecting to at least enjoy the taste of air that wasn’t tainted with her smell after I came.

I cried as I lay there, humiliated and exhausted and unable to get away from Sonia’s pussy. It was everywhere. Laying my head against my pillow and trying to sleep was tantamount to nestling my face between her legs and trying to nod off—worse, really, because I could taste her as well.

It was a long time before I finally drifted into a restless sleep.

I awoke with a start to the ever-present smell of Sonia’s vagina. It was light in my room. My clock showed it was just before seven, so my mother would already be gone from the house.

The covers felt confining, and my body was warm all over. My pussy clenched with a hot squish of need, and I realized I was turned on. Not just a little aroused, but so horny that I need relief.

I didn’t try to fight it, nor did I even attempt to stifle my moans. With the taste of her pussy strong in my mouth, I rubbed in time to the surging waves of heat and I gave myself to her orgasm.

In the twenty minutes it took before I could even cry, I vowed to myself that I would go through with it.

Unless there was another way out, I was going to kill her.