The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was at work anyways. It was my birthday, to be sure, but it fell on a Thursday, and I thought it made more sense for me to take a three-day-weekend than to take the day off and then go back to work on Friday. Rachel disagreed - “why not take a four-day weekend,” she asked, fluttering her lashes at me in that spine-meltingly sexy way she had - but I’d managed to put my foot down, on the grounds that it was my birthday and I’d spend it how I wanted to. Besides, we needed the parsing system up and running by the end-of-month checkpoint, and every day counted. Rachel had finally stormed off in a mock huff - at the very least, with considerably more hip-swaying and lip-licking than would be plausible in a real huff - insisting that she’d “get her revenge” on me, which I assumed was her way of indicating that I was in for one hell of a birthday present this year.

My S.O. picked up some kind of superpowers when she moved to River City. It happens to people sometimes; my friend from high school Laura stopped metabolizing caffeine and alcohol when she moved here, poor girl. Rachel got luckier. She’s got skills in the whole seduction department: alterations to appearance, sexual enticement, induction of indiscriminate and wide-ranging lust, the works. She tends not to use it on me, cause I know she’s gorgeous anyways - and besides, what kind of a pig would I be to be with her just because of sex superpowers? - but I was guessing that my birthday was providing her an occasion to pull something out of reserve. Maybe go out to a club and pick up another girl to have a good time with us? I was perfectly happy with just her, but the last time she’d done it she’d insisted that “my virtue needed rewarding”, which was the stupidest excuse I’d heard in a while. I think she just enjoys exercising her talents. To be fair, so does everyone she exercises them upon. She’s a way nicer person than “super seduction powers” suggests.

My guess was something a little kinky, given the way we’d parted, and I had no problem with that. With thoughts and anticipation running through my head at work, I was in a pretty good mood as I plowed through three thousand lines of JSON schema that I needed to validate, and cheerfully hummed along to London Calling as I vomited out line after line (after line) of unit test. Honestly, this was probably the best time to do parser-validation; come Monday next week this work would be unbearable, but as it was I was moving along briskly. to be fair, the test case ‘parseJSON[DataContainer](“{ “model”:\“girlfriend\”, “properties”: [\“awesome\”, \“sexy\”, \“fun\”, \“smart\”, \“best ever\” ] }”).properties.length == 5’ might have been a little unprofessional, but the point was that I was getting the tests written. And then nobody would ever look at them again, God willing.

That lasted until a little after lunch. I’d called Rachel then and gotten no reply, which was strange but not totally unprecedented. But at about two in the afternoon I got a phone call which, in its entirety, went like this:

Me:

Phil Sherman speaking.

Rachel

(hurriedly):

Phil you’ve got to get back here and help me right now. Please.

Me:

What? Rachel? You ok?

Me:

Rachel? Rachel?

So that was about it for my good mood, and for accomplishing anything at work. I shoved everything into source control, told my teammates I’d be pulling extra hours come next week, and took the hell off. I had no idea what was going on back home, but the drive back didn’t help me come up with anything plausible and non-bad. By the time I arrived at home I was more than a little nervous about what I might find.

“Rachel? Everything ok?” I said, as I opened the door.

“Everything’s fiiiiine,” purred Rachel, from just inside. She was standing in the stairway, one arm wrapped up around the support column and the other resting on her leg, long nails pressing into pale flesh. She was dressed in a red silk bathrobe that hadn’t quite gone on right, leaving her shoulder and the curve of one breast and a great long expanse of leg uncovered. The effect was obviously calculated - how long had she been standing in the stairwell like that, anyways? - but no less mind-blowingly erotic for all that. I could feel myself coming erect just at the sight.

“Thank God you’re alright, love, you had me worried there.” I was honestly too relieved to be much irritated that she hadn’t bothered waiting for the end of the work day. Relived and aroused. Mostly aroused. Rachel could really turn it on when she wanted to.

As I stepped into the room Rachel flowed towards me, all lithe and sinuous, and grabbed my head, tilted it towards her own, and plunged her tongue into my mouth. Her nails bit hard at my cheeks; her hips ground against mine and I could feel the robe come undone between us, her soft flesh naked against my jeans. She finally withdrew from my mouth a moment, but her hand simply slipped around to the back of my head, grabbed a bunch of hair and pulled my head sharply back, allowing her to run her tongue and teeth over my exposed throat.

“Jeez - ah! - you’re cra- uhhh! -zy today, aren’t -unnh!- you?”

Rachel looked up from attacking me and smiled wickedly. “You don’t get to talk until you submit, dear,” and punctuated it with one hand dragged slowly down my back.

Well, I’d guessed right at work, then. Rachel wasn’t typically interested the roleplay thing - “why playact at something you can do for real?” - but I was certainly up for it. “Yes, mistress,” I said, getting into things.

Rachel’s grin grew wider. “Not to me, silly.” The hand that wasn’t still gripping my hair undid my belt and slipped into my pants. “You have to submit to my Lady.” She gave my dick a squeeze as she said this, but her eyes were unfocused.

And fuck. All the worry from my trip home came flooding back. Something pretty bad was going down here. “Umm, right. Just give me a sec to, umm -” My attempt to get out of her grasp floundered against a much tighter grasp on my cock and an almost painful grip on my hair. She twisted my head around with her hand and bit the neck where it met my shoulder.

“No, you get to submit to my Lady now,” she said, and her smile was a thing of cruelty. “My Lady! Take him!”

“I will,” said a voice from the living room, and without thinking my eyes flicked that way.

She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I forgot my fear, and Rachel’s behaviour; I even forgot her hand still clenched around my cock. Maybe my vision tunneled, maybe there just wasn’t anything in the room as important as her. She was wearing a long, sleeveless white dress, quite modest for the raw animal lust her appearance had roused in me. Her skin was a cold pale, her hair and nails and lips were red, the colour of hot arterial blood, and her eyes were the bright algae green of a stagnant pool. They were round and wide, unlike a cat’s, and her teeth were white and straight and even, not at all like a wolf’s.

Beside me Rachel started panting. The woman smiled, a sweet smile, entirely in place on such a lovely figure. “Good Christian, friend, Philip Sherman. Thy lady-love has told us of thee.” Her accent was musical and unplaceable.

“Who...” I said, unable to marshal any thoughts in the presence of this woman.

“Thou may’st perhaps know us as la Belle Dame sans Merci? But thou may’st call us milady.” She smiled again as she extended me this favour.

“What did...” I managed.

“What has passed between the fair Rachel and us? Jealousy, ever the sin of the lover. But rest easy, good Christian, we would never interfere in a love as true as yours. We have done nothing she did not ask of us.” And with that she leant forwards and delivered a chaste peck on Rachel’s forehead. It was the most lascivious thing I had ever seen, and I reached down and began jerking myself off at the sight. Rachel must have stopped doing that at some point - presumably when she started frenetically fingering herself, because she was going at it with both hands. Her knees were trembling. So were mine.

The woman must have noticed, because she smiled at me again and said “But our host is tired. Fair Rachel, let him retire to his chamber, that he may rest. He shall, no doubt, be busy soon.” I liked the sound of that. I also liked the way she extended her hand for me to kiss. My kiss was not as chaste as hers had been; I gripped her hand hard with the hand that wasn’t frantically working my rigid shaft, and started licking and sucking the back of her hand. Her skin was hard and cold as ice, and the touch of it on my mouth sent electricity through my brain. I had started moving to suck on her fingers when she withdrew her hand again, with a firmness I somehow could not resist. “Mannered as a gentle man,” she said, and laughed; her laugh was light and musical, like iron bells rolling.

I made it to the bedroom somehow, afterwards; Rachel must have led me, I suppose, because when my mind cleared I was on my back on the bed, naked, and bound hand and foot to the bedframe. Fuck and a half. I’d gone completely insane with lust the moment I’d set eyes on this woman, whipped my dick out and started jerking off in my own front hall at the sight of her kissing my own damn girlfriend lightly on the goddamned forehead. Frankly, it reminded me of Rachel, a bit, except far more intense than anything I’d ever seen. And, of course, aimed at her instead. That was what really worried me. Rachel had gone from normal, or at least capable of calling me to ask for help, to glassy-eyed, finger-fucking herself with both hands, and actively assisting in trying to trap me, in the time it had taken me to drive back from work. Rachel was one of the toughest people I knew - certainly in the field of doing things to people with sex, at which she recognized no equal - and she’d folded like it was nothing. I was fucked, and so was Rachel.

Well, at least second toughest. Laura, my high school friend, took no shit from anyone about anything, and made it her business rescuing people from exactly this sort of thing. Had done a number on a guy who’d kidnapped Rachel a few weeks back, in fact. If I could get her here, she could definitely save Rachel, and me; or at least kick La Belle Dame in the shins until me and Rachel could get the hell away. I had no doubt whatsoever about Laura’s ability to resist her - she resisted everything. That just left getting her here.

OK, my cell had been in my pants. I had no idea at all what had happened to my pants. Maybe they were here; maybe Rachel had left them downstairs. Either way, getting loose was step one.

Rachel was no good at knots - by the time she’d gotten the confidence to try things like that, she’d also gotten the ability to tell someone to stay put - and I managed to wriggle my left hand around enough to loosen the ropes, pulled it out, then got my right untied too. From there my ankles were easy, and sitting up I could see my pants piled with the rest of my clothes by the door. I was going through my pockets when Rachel came in.

She didn’t even hesitate, just shoved me right over onto my ass. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“For the love of God, Rachel, we have to get out of here.”

“No we don’t. You have to get back on the bed to await my Lady. What were you...” She abruptly bent down and grabbed my pants from me. “You were trying to phone Laura, weren’t you.”

“We need help. You need help.”

“Why? Because my Lady has chained my mind with her soft words and her quick tongue and her perfect body and made me love it? I don’t want any help. And you won’t either.”

If she came back into the room, I probably wouldn’t. But I had a chance to save Rachel now - as long as it was just the two of us - and when Rachel finally fished my cell out of its pocket I went for it as fast as I could. I actually grabbed it from her and tried to leap over the bed away from her, but dialing a number is a long process in a panic and Rachel didn’t even try to chase me, just said “I don’t want you to do that” in a quiet, throaty voice that slithered through my thoughts and into my brainstem. My fingers were moving through molasses. Rachel didn’t normally do that to me, except in fun; I’d never tried to fight it for real before. But I had to. I needed to save Rachel; I needed to fight her. I needed to fight her. I -

Rachel had pulled the phone from my unresisting fingers. “You never could make me unhappy,” she smirked, and climbed on the bed to straddle me. “But I don’t want to make you unhappy either, so let me tell you what I’ll do. I’ll call Laura for you, and you can eat my pussy out while I do so. Fair?”

“Don’t, please,” I begged. I had little hope she would listen at this point, but I had to try for her. “Rachel, fight it. Please.”

“Hmmm, no,” said Rachel. “It feels so good to serve her. The only thing better would be you licking my pussy while I serve her.” She shuffled up my body, held my arms down with her knees, and spread her lips with one hand. “You know you want to.”

I did. Rachel’s pussy was beautiful, laid out inches in front of my mouth, her clit swolen with lust and temptation, her cunt dripping its hot, scented desire for me and La Belle Dame all over my collarbone. I wanted to lick her to orgasm so badly.

“Good boy,” moaned Rachel. Then she dialed the phone, pinned it between her ear and shoulder, and leant back - she couldn’t quite reach my cock and stay balanced, so she settled for clawing my solar plexus. “Hey Laura, what’cha up to tonight? ...Another date with Susan and Franz? ...Yeah, I know, but seriously. Just tell me they haven’t made you stick around past second base. ...Haven’t made it past first. What. ...Well, me and Phil were wondering if - ...I don’t know what you’re - ...Ok, fine, yes, he is. ...Well, he was just so eager. ...Fine, be that way. ...Yeah, see you around. Have a good one.” She tossed the phone casually onto the floor and started wriggling her hips against my face. “So sorry, Phil, but it looks like Laura can’t make it.”

That was it. I’d fucked up and missed my chance. I could have gotten Laura over here in a shot if I’d made Rachel freak out on the phone, and I could have done that if I’d been willing to bite the bullet - as it were - and hurt her. Rachel having a gaspy conversation in which she admitted to being in the midst of fucking my face was nothing close to disconcerting enough: Laura’s opinion of us was already pretty warped (perhaps not unfairly), and mid-sex phone calls were rude, but hardly inexplicable. And in the moment of crisis I couldn’t bring myself to do it, even to save her, and now we were both screwed.

Rachel craned her head around. “My Lady.” I desperately scrunched my eyes up, but it didn’t help. Rachel’s juices turned to honey in my mouth and someone’s fingertips brushed along my leg, sending such a sensation up my thigh I almost screamed. I looked up from Rachel’s pussy to see La Belle Dame kissing her lightly on the cheek. I needed to jerk myself off at the sight - fortunately Rachel, her eyes rolling up into her head with bliss, had given up on dignity or balance and flopped all the way backwards to start stroking my shaft herself. That freed my arms, giving me the opportunity to start clawing her thighs while she grabbed my head by the hair and kept my face tightly pressed against her.

“Such affection he has for thee,” she said, close in to Rachel’s ear. Rachel shivered at the breath brushing her ear; I shivered at the praise from her lips. I shivered more as she knelt down beside me and whispered in my ear: “And what dost thou want, Christian?”

I wanted to serve, completely and forever. I wanted her to make me come. I wanted the mindless bliss the Rachel was in at this very moment, twitching on top of my face. Rachel. I wanted... something with Rachel? Something... important... to do with Rachel. Something...more important than La Belle Dame? That was silly. But even with her breath cold and salacious on my cheek, I couldn’t shake the thought of Rachel. Maybe it was her fingering herself desperately on top of my chest a few inches away.

“I want... Rachel?” I hazarded. I knew that my want - my need - for La Belle Dame went without saying, but Rachel seemed taken aback, hesitating for a moment in her pumping of my cock and her pussy.

“Ever the knight,” said La Belle Dame, standing. “Mayhap I might leave you to your lady-love’s tender graces.” She kissed Rachel on the cheek again and Rachel went crazy at the touch - as did I, although still pinned under her I had to be less theatrical about it - and started thrusting her hand in and out of her pussy so hard as to be punching me in the sternum on each downstroke. She came, screaming, while I watched La Belle Dame walk out of the room again.

I didn’t come; once La Belle Dame was out of sight and my mind started to clear a little, it became apparent that Rachel had simply been frenetically pumping me behind her back - pretty intense under the influence, and not unpleasant even now, but unlikely to put me over anytime soon. I shoved Rachel off me. She flopped limply onto the bed and lay there, breathing heavily, for a moment or two before getting back up.

“How are you still not her slave,” she hissed as she crawled back up my body, her hand gripping my hair again. I was wondering that myself. I’d somehow managed to stand by Rachel, which was a good thing, but not an explanation on its own - I’d heard enough horror stories from Laura to know that The Power Of Love and two bucks would buy you a cup of coffee. What else was different? We were in the bedroom. That couldn’t be - no, wait. Maybe there was something in here that had shaken her hold on me. La Belle Dame Sans Merci: that was from King Arthur, right? She was an evil enchantress who - no, that wasn’t right. She was a fairy or something. Was there any cold iron near where she’d been standing? Well, the bedframe was wood and the lamp on the (wooden) bedside table was aluminum and plastic, so that was out. Damnit. I needed to figure out what was going on, or me and Rachel were doomed.

Rachel was back on top and was sort of naked-dry-humping me, running her hands up and down my torso, but in an oddly listless way. That was strange in itself. She hadn’t done anything today, except get horribly enslaved; she shouldn’t look so tired. “Are you ok?”

“I’ll be fine if you just submit,” she snarled, and lunged for my neck. Ask a stupid question.

...But what the hell was going on? I’d buy that La Belle Dame was draining her life or energy or something, except that she’d been here for a couple of hours at most and, more to the point, Rachel had been fine when I’d arrived and had deteriorated notably in the time since then. And La Belle Dame had been vamping at me a lot harder than at her, and I felt fine - or, physically capable, at least. There had to be something I was missing.

Like, maybe, that I had everything backwards.

“My Lady!” I shouted, startling Rachel almost off the bed entirely. “Take me!”

“What?” said Rachel.

“You’re right, everyone will be happier if I give in. So my Lady, let me give myself to you!”

“You think you’ve figured something out,” said Rachel, suspiciously. “You’re not going to escape my Lady.”

“I have figured it out. And I’m not trying to escape. My Lady!”

Rachel got off me, revealing the door behind her. “My Lady, he’s ready,” she said. There was motion outside. Hah, I was right. Then the door opened again and my thoughts flowed away.

La Belle Dame wriggled her body - obscenely, to my eye - and her gown fell to the floor. She was perfect. Her breasts were full and heavy, the nipples hard and begging to be sucked; the curves of her hips and waist drew the eye to the soft red curls between her thighs - I knew her pussy beneath would be tight and slick, eager for my cock just as I was eager for it. She climbed gracefully onto the bed, flashing her cunt momentarily as she lifted her leg. I gasped and gripped Rachel’s arm - it must have been painfully hard, although Rachel moaned in arousal too. La Belle Dame laughed merrily at my helplessness, which only turned me on more.

“Well, Christian,” she said, circling one breast with a blood-red nail, “dost thou want this?”

The thought that if I was wrong I was dooming myself flickered across my mind. I forced it down. If I was wrong I would be with Rachel. “Yes, my Lady,” I said. Begged.

La Belle Dame smiled, and for a moment her smile was the grin of a shark. I opened my mouth - to plead? to scream? I’m still not sure - and then her lips touched the straining head of my cock and I did scream, in ecstasy. She impaled her perfect body on me, and the last thing I remember was her throwing her head back and letting out an inhuman scream of her own as the universe turned into an incomprehensible sea of white light and white noise and unendurable pleasure.

Coda:

“That was... an experience. Thanks.”

“(Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)”

“And before I roll over, I’m going to guess... Alicia?”

“Who else were you expecting?”

“Well, probably you, but it would be embarrassing if I got it wrong, especially after, you know, the sex and all.”

“Come on, how many other minions does your girlfriend have?”

“I don’t think even you would count as a ‘minion’.”

“I cut all my classes because she asked me to and then did what she said for most of an afternoon.”

“I’m sure you did it because it sounded fun.”

“Well it did. And was. Do you know how hard it is to be all Middle English when someone is trying to fellate your thumb?”

“Yeah, she kinda did a number on me. ...You think she’s ok?”

“(Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)”

“She’ll be fine, she’s just tired.”

“I know, illusioning up someone other than herself is really hard, and making me think that it was you that was the source of all the sex vibes... That’s got to take it out of you.”

“(Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)”

“She’ll be fine. You didn’t see the kitchen on your way in; I made her this huge protein smoothie and an entire pot of spaghetti before you arrived.”

“Like running a marathon.”

“Pretty much.”

“Hell of a birthday gift, though.”

“Oh, that wasn’t the birthday gift. She got you a new slate. That was for ‘not taking time off work to spend time with me,’ and I quote.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a keeper.”

“Oh, I knew that already. But I guess the rest of the birthday party is on hold until Rachel wakes up, so I guess we need to find something to pass the time until, well, probably tomorrow morning.”

“(Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)”

“Hey!”

“Oh, don’t get all prudish on me, Mr ‘Please take me now my Lady’.”

“I’m not prudish! It’s just rude to get it on in front of my girlfriend... while she’s not awake.”

“(Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)”

“Let’s go play some video games.”

“Done.”