The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The warm water surrounded her in a soothing cocoon, while its gentle lapping lulled her senses into a drowsy haze. Soft hands stroked through her dark hair, sharpness tingling as the fragrant oil was massaged into her scalp.

Jodi gave a low moan, squirming against the yielding flesh on which she was seated. Hot lips suckled at the nape of her neck, worrying her sensitised skin, while curves ripe with arousal pressed urgently into her spine.

Her limbs felt leaden and she couldn’t find the strength to do more than writhe. A sense of anxiety lurked someone beyond her reach, an itch she could neither scratch nor ignore. Something was very wrong. But the more she tried to focus, the more insistent those ravenous lips became.

Heavy weights pulled at her limbs, rooting her in place and dragging her arms down to hang uselessly by her sides. Arousal flared again as she was lifted bodily from the sunken bath. Head lolling, Jodi tried to take in her surroundings, hoping she might distract herself from her growing need.

Unfortunately, it was simply impossible to tell where the fog of desire ended and the swirling steam began.

“That’s better,” a familiar voice whispered over her skin. “Isn’t it, my pampered pet?”

Jodi shivered and felt a wonderfully gentle twinge run up, through her buttocks and deep into her belly. Warm, wet skin pressed against her, the slippery contact only adding to her excitement. Strong arms held and supported her and she simply leaned into their controlling embrace.

The towel was thick and soft. It wrapped her in its heavy warmth, smothering that nagging anxiety as it slipped around her. Jodi let her eyes drift shut, breathing out a contented sigh as the knowing hands began to rub vigorously.

“Not that a single bath,” the woman chuckled softly, “would be nearly enough to clean a filthy slut like you, now would it?”

Another deep throb coursed through her body, seeming to echo the flush that rose into her throat. Try as she might, Jodi could find no answer to the teasing, yet still somehow tender words. And, as the woman’s touch became steadily more intimate, she found herself forced to admit their accuracy.

Despite its downy cosiness, the fleecy material might just as well have been sand-paper as it ground against her unbearably tender pussy. The wickedly knotted crotch rope had already scoured between Jodi’s cuntlips and now the witch’s clever fingers were retracing its journey, forcing the captive woman back down into the sweaty depths of abject submission.

Dusk had long since passed by the time Tabitha had dealt with her newest pet. The witch almost bounded up the wide, stone steps, her body alive with power.

She’d eventually allowed the girl to rest, knowing that if she took any more, there might be permanent damage. Safely leashed and harnessed, her pet had lapsed into unconsciousness even before her head hit the cot.

By contrast, Tabitha was practically buzzing. There were so many things she needed to do and yet, with her thoughts racing as they were, they simply wouldn’t linger in once place long enough for her to achieve anything.

Already inured to another long, unproductive night, the witch was surprised, but not at all disappointed when the warning glyphs once again announced the arrival of an unexpected visitor. Desperate for any excitement, Tabitha practically ran toward the main entrance.

An aura swimming with fear and pain touched her awareness and Tabitha felt herself stiffen in shock. She pulled open the heavy, wooden door, barely catching the nearly naked woman as she tumbled across the threshold. The witch had already recognised Nacht’s distinctive taste, but was entirely unprepared for the young woman’s dishevelled appearance.

Tabitha had always liked the bespectacled witch, even when she chose to align herself with Tanya. Despite her sister’s near constant abuse, Nacht remained loyal and yet, somehow, Tabitha held onto the hope that the girl would eventually recognise Tanya for what she was.

It baffled her as to why the ill-matched pair stuck together. Certainly the blond apprentice gave far more that her crippled mentor. But staring at the stricken girl and feeling the pain that bled around her flimsy defences, none of that mattered now.

“Nacht,” she breathed, taking the girl’s weight and easing her carefully toward a chair. “What happened?”

The girl stared up at her, eyes brimming with tears. Nacht’s fingers sunk into Tabitha’s upper arms, but the witch ignored the painful grip as she took in her guest’s appearance. Sinister runes covered the young woman’s body, smeared and distorted or smudged with waxy droplets.

“You’re safe now,” Tabitha insisted, stroking the girl’s flickering aura with just a hint of power. “Please, Nacht… tell me what’s wrong.”

“Tanya,” Nacht sobbed quietly, unable to meet the witch’s gaze. “It was Tanya…”

Something tightened in Tabitha’s belly, a shock of fear that would have forced a shiver had her muscles not already been trembling with rage. She reached out gently, using a single claw to raise the apprentice’s chin.

“What has she done?” she asked softly, wrapping the girl in confident assurance.

“She,” the girl replied after a moment. “She… Oh, Tabby… she was so upset. I tried… I tried to calm her down…”

Very tenderly, the witch ran her fingers through the girl’s matted hair. She could feel how Nacht shivered against her and within that sensation found the memory of Jodi’s sweet surrender. But Tabitha knew she had to find out what had happened.

“Nacht,” she urged. “I know it’s hard… but please, I need you to tell me.”

“I know,” the apprentice almost whined, her lip trembling. “You’re the only one I trust…”

Tabitha hugged the girl close, trying unsuccessfully to ignore how her body responded to the potent air of helplessness Nacht was suddenly radiating. She muttered soft words, pouring new strength into the apprentice’s faltering defences.

“She fed on me…” Nacht breathed and that admission sent icy fingers scuttling down the witch’s spine.

She gasped, her emotions torn between two equally unpalatable possibilities. The relationship between mentor and apprentice was supposed to be sacrosanct. More importantly, no witch was permitted to feed upon another, unless the Sisterhood as a whole agreed or unless a challenge had been offered and accepted.

The proscribed course of action was clear. By rights, Tabitha should have already contacted the Arbiter and denounced her sister as an oathbreaker. But, although Tanya might have been many things, she was still her sister. The least punishment she could hope for if found guilty was banishment and, however appealing the thought of Tanya dipped in a slick coating of meta-insulating, etheric latex might be, she simply couldn’t consign her sister to never again know the touch, the sound or even the taste of her fellows.

“I’ll fix this,” the witch promised, her voice filled with conviction.

Nacht gave a half smile, her lips moving soundlessly while tears flowed over her high cheekbones. Tabitha leaned in closer, wanting to hear what the girl was trying to say. The apprentice’s breath was warm against the witch’s skin and her words were lost in a long, seductive sigh.

Sweet musk filled Tabitha’s senses, a spicy perfume that almost immediately wrapped itself around her perceptions. The sharp tang of brimstone singed her nostrils, even as the girl’s words filtered through the haze of unrecognised glamour.

“No, Tabby,” Nacht murmured. “I’m afraid you’re the one who’s going to be fixed.”

Confusion wiped away the panic before it could take hold. Tabitha’s understanding spun dizzyingly away from her and quite suddenly it was the girl who was supporting her weight. She managed a weak groan before Nacht took the witch’s face in her small hands and forced the stunned woman to stare deeply into her darkening eyes.

Claret boiled through the limpid blue, igniting her gaze into stunning brilliance. Tabitha gave a low moan, senses reeling from the mystic assault. Her perspective seemed to shrink, either that or the girl’s pupils had stretched impossibly, becoming her entire world.

Something hot and sticky bubbled through her mind, miring what little remained of her thoughts in its cloying sweetness. Pleasure of the darkest kind swept forth, massaging her tattered awareness with whispered promises.

“That’s it,” a voice that wasn’t quite Nacht’s coaxed. “Nice and calm for me.”

It was so difficult to make sense of anything and yet somehow Tabitha knew that she shouldn’t trust those silken whispers. Soft hands stroked over her skin, adding another distraction to the chaos. She felt them at her neck, unfastening the clasp and letting her cloak slip free.

The witch managed another whimper, louder this time but still almost painfully weak. Nacht’s hands continued their measured exploration, divesting Tabitha of her scanty under-things while still managing to slide with exquisite slowness over her seemingly paralysed body.

“Down you go,” the girl commanded, taking complete charge of her victim’s helpless flesh.

Tabitha groaned, unable to resist the soft, insistent pressure. Her thoughts flayed wildly, thin strands of comprehension coiling and reweaving themselves. But her muscles refused to obey and the witch quickly found herself on her knees, one flushed cheek pressed to the ground. The cool tiles were slick against her breasts, but it wasn’t simply the chill that stiffened her nipples.

Her arms were pulled back, sliding between her parted thighs and leaving Tabitha with her backside raised provocatively. She felt herself blushing more deeply, the humiliation of her exposure only increasing her entirely unwelcome arousal. The girl’s proximity sent shivers scuttling along her spine and down into her open sex, where they could chase away any burgeoning thought of escape.

“You’re too soft,” the voice chided, using the words to caress her aching pussy. “Strong enough, but far too trusting. You want to believe the best of people… and look where that got you.”

She fought to hold on, to ignore the urge to simply lie there and accept her fate. Somewhere in the midst of that chaos she was able to find the old, well-rehearsed rotes. There structured forms easy enough to recite, even as lost and befuddled as she felt.

Nacht stepped around her, kneeling beside the fallen witch, and running a palm over her buttocks. She grinned, her eyes still blazing with scarlet flames and spread her legs wide to reveal her swollen and dripping cunt.

Giving a moan that was equal parts ardour and performance, the girl slid four fingers between her gaping lips. She worked them hungrily in the wet heat, jerking and groaning as she did so. The scent of sulphur grew more potent, mixing with the deepening spice and threatening to drag Tabitha’s thoughts back into that dizzying spiral.

The girl scooped her hand in the slippery flesh, coating them liberally in rich, sticky ooze. Tabitha tried to move, to look away, to do anything by lie there, trembling as Nacht reached over to daub the glistening ichor over her skin.

“Don’t move now,” the girl whispered, and her touch sent flames dancing ecstatically over the witch’s body.

Tabitha could feel the sigils taking form, as Nacht painted over the nape of her neck. But she knew she could still beat this, no simple holding spell could contain a witch of her experience. A tiny thrill of hope gleamed from deep within her despair and then the girl’s fingers dipped lower.

“You’re helpless,” she giggled, caressing the base of Tabitha’s spine, and wrapped blissfully bright lightning fingers around her.

The second rune scalded her pale flesh, its power burrowing deep into her being and banishing the errant thoughts of escape. The finger slipped casually between her raised buttock, slithering between the witch’s slack lips and coming to rest against the tightness of her throbbing clit.

She knew she was lost, even before the girl began to inscribe the third and final rune. Her body hummed with the knowledge of her defeat, every fibre of the witch’s being resonating with undeniable surrender. Nacht’s power flowed into Tabitha’s sex, dragging her forcefully to the moment before release.

“I own you,” the girl concluded, caressing the witch’s cheek with sticky fingers.

And Tabitha could do nothing but lie there, mewling piteously, eyes wide and pleading as she balanced hopelessly on the brink.