The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Hypatia sat on the end of Tsanja’s bed.

The Felthings still surrounded her, and Tsanja felt bloodied, defiled, her insides damaged.

Hypatia lifted a little bag up, and put it up on the bed. Opening it, she pulled out a small creature. It was furry, and looked soft, and, as she stroked it, it tried to wrap itself around her finger.

It was just a night-wing.

These creatures were only seen at night, and they stayed well away from people. The legends had it that they were older than time itself, and many people were superstitious about them. Both seemed content to avoid each other.

Tsanja had never seen one up close.

It was like a bat, sharing with it the same leathery hide, and soft fur, and beady little eyes, but it had no bones, and little body.

Something green glimmered from its centre.

Hypatia stroked it, and it unfurled itself.

Two eyes observed her, and Tsanja saw that its skin had been pierced with several gold rings, with green stones set into them. Each ring was small, like a piece of jewellery for a child’s finger, but Tsanja could see that with that weight, it would not be able to fly.

The arrangement looked somehow familiar.

“Tsanja, tonight has been hard for you, I know, but I think you know that it has been necessary for the good of the Land.

“My little friend here will ease your pain.

“He’s your pet now, you will keep him, and look after him, and he will give comfort to you when you come to work with me in the Grand Abbey.

Tsanja recalled now where she had seen those gold rings and those green stones.

Each servant in the Grand Abbey wore an apron, like a uniform, of black leather, gold rings, and green stones, and she knew that she would never be rid of this night-wing, this pet. It would never leave her, and she would wear it all of her days.

Hypatia smiled, and Tsanja recoiled.

Anything which Hypatia liked, Tsanja had realised, she would find revolting. What fresh new horror would Hypatia show her now?

“As you know, Hypatia, we created the Felthings to rid the land of the Lilith spawn, and we are fortunate indeed that they will also help us with a few other matters. Your little friend here will grow strong with you, and, when you shuffle off this mortal coil, he shall make a warm, comfy hood for someone who deserves it far more than you or I. Yes, Tsanja, these little creatures make very fine Felthing hoods. You are not long for the world, Tsanja, as he does get hungry, and he will grow strong on you, but you will not mind so much when you finally succumb to your new darling.

“Tsanja, I have seen them feeding. It is sweet, watching them feed, seeing the look of bliss on the faces of those who provide for them. You could even say that you were made for each other, Tsanja, that there is no higher calling for either of you.

The Felthings came forward then, and stood closer.

Hypatia placed the thing on the bed, and it reared up, to sniff the air, its beady eyes seeing Tsanja for the first time.

A kind of mouth opened then, a great slit in its skin, and Tsanja saw a moist, glistening redness, with fine tendrils beginning to emerge. Its maw was as wide as its body, like a huge anemone, its tentacles waving in the air, rather than in the water.

Tsanja recoiled in horror, and the Felthings gently held her down.

The creature shuffled towards her, struggling against those heavy, clinking rings, and, its skin undulating, it moved towards her head.

“Tsanja, relax. You will come to accept this over time, even to welcome it. Just let him get to know you. He is faithful, Tsanja, faithful unto death.”

The Felthings laid their gloved hands on her, and held her still.

The night-wing covered her face, and her head, opening itself up like a leather bag, and those tendrils began to enter her, through her nose, through her mouth, through her ears. It was not painful. On the contrary, the tendrils were moist, and warm, and Tsanja began to relax. Perhaps they drugged her, or exerted some strange kind of influence. The creature settled over her face, leaving her mouth clear, and it warmed her. The Felthings released her. Again, she could not move.

Tsanja did not know how the creature fed. Perhaps it would not be so bad. Lying here was almost pleasant, and she could no longer see Hypatia.

“Think of the time we met, Tsanja. It was not the best of times for you, my dear, but that shall soon be all in the past, gone the way of all flesh.”

Tsanja could not help thinking about the first moment she had met Hypatia, and she felt a burst of hatred as she realised how awful the land had become under Hypatia’s direction. Her experiments with the Felthings were horrible enough, but to do that to the Healers was a monstrosity. Tsanja had no doubt that Lilith was only extant in the world because of Hypatia’s meddling, and she hated Hypatia most of all for what she intended to do to Tsanja’s loved ones, the only friends she had left in the world.

Poe had been correct.

Poe had been correct in everything.

Until Tsanja had seen the horror of the Felthing’s flesh, she had hoped that all Poe had told her was exaggeration.

The reality was a hundred times worse.

Perhaps she was fortunate. Her own family would fare even worse. Her stomach clenched at the thought of her loved ones being turned into Felthings, her own mother being raped and hollowed out. Tsanja did not know if Madeleine and Dee would have time to save their own little ones.

In any case, they would be forced to endure the same agonising trials as herself.

And Penn, beautiful Penn. He had always thought himself free, free as a bird, and perhaps now he would have to pay for his carefree ways. But at what a price!

As with all boys, he never thought to ask why there were no men in the village. Those particular sorceries had kept the Sisters of the Church in power for generations, with no males to challenge their dominion.

Tsanja guessed that he would be a good match for one of the Sisters, retiring at forty, or a daughter of a minor woman of wealth. He would be wedded, and never see sunlight again. Oh, he would have bedroom pleasures enough, but Tsanja thought with distaste on the shackles to be placed upon his fine mind, as she had crippled many a young man for marriages in Gynt. It was distasteful, but effective.

The village had been a restful place without the incessant fighting, shouting and jealousy from the legendary menfolk of old.

Her mind seemed to crystallise then, and did not move forward, or backwards, her image of Hypatia and today’s events were stuck. She felt no pain now, which was some relief, just those memories and emotions, held as if pinned to her mind.

Tsanja felt the night-wing’s tendrils move then, and they twitched, and there was a tiny sting. It was as if pure pleasure was trickling into her veins. It became so strong, her thoughts were held, static, but her body’s pleasure was rising, heading towards some catastrophic denouement. It was terrifying, but Tsanja knew that ecstasy was close.

She spread her legs, wide, to help it along, and opened herself up to it.

She had no choice.

A white, bright, climax filled her body, and she arched her back. Somehow, she lost her train of thought, and her mind emptied of everything save for that brilliant, terrifying white pleasure which burned through her body.

It eased, gently, and slowly let her down.

Tsanja heard the voice of an irritating, imperious woman.

“Think back further, yes, the day before we met. I saw you in my bowl, you were sick, I think, I think I saw you being sick. That wasn’t very nice, was it, Tsanja?”

Tsanja remembered it, being sick into a bowl, she rather felt as if there had been eyes staring at the back of her neck.

It was so comfortable here in her bed with her night-wing, like a warm, heavy, blanket wrapped around her head, and she could barely feel those moist tendrils which held her, which filled her. Her whole body was warm and fuzzy now, and she let all her muscles relax, and her head sank deeper into her pillow.

She found herself hoping that the pleasurable sensation would return, but her thoughts first retraced all the events of that morning, after being sick, all of the useless preparations for a church congregation who would never return.

Again, her mind seemed to crystallise, to stick, that morning held in her brain. Then she felt that twitch, that burst of pleasure again, so strong, and she clenched her teeth, letting it carry her away, arching her back. Again, with the pleasure, she lost her train of thought. As the pleasure dwindled, she could no longer remember of what she had been thinking.

Despite the pleasure of her floating, a feeling of horror began to creep up on her. She thought of the events of this evening, of yesterday morning, and realised that there were gaps. Her memory was usually solid, but she could not even remember the immediate past.

Oh, no, oh, Gods, no! This creature was stealing her memories!

She flailed against her mind, tried to think upon nothing, but her memories flowed, her thoughts ran on, and were locked tight.

Tsanja heard the voice of an irritating, imperious woman.

“Poor old JaJa. You know what you are dealing with now, don’t you my dear? Have no fear, you will soon forget what your dear little pet is doing to you, and you will become the best of friends. He has you now, and he can steer you into your past, all by himself. I do like to see your pleasure, dear, I am not a bad person. I am only sad that you will not remember me with the fondness that I deserve.”

Tsanja could not control her mind as her thoughts were steered back to yesterday’s meeting with Poe, and her decision to give up her baby to Lilith, to save it.

Removing the choker charm had been hard. Remembering all of her students disappearing, one by one, had been harder. The awful, awful time searching for John Cameron in the cave had returned in vividness, and, although she had no recollection of Lilith’s appearance, she remembered the way that his memory had dribbled away from her as he was taken.

She remembered the influence of the cave, and the moment when she had finally decided to seduce Penn, to take him for herself.

She had always loved Penn as a student, for his mind, for his enthusiasm, but she had never imagined that she would fall for him in that way, and want to have his baby. The clarity of purpose she had felt in the cave as she had taken him rang true to her still. She regretted nothing. Still, she had been feeling inadequate for months now, and she doubted if she would ever know if her seduction of Penn was due to the Demon’s influence, or or own, internal, demons.

It had been a near thing with her baby. If she had not given it to Lilith, it would certainly be dead by now. Tsanja hoped that it was alive, but how would she ever find out? She ached for her baby, her poor, lost baby, but could see no way in the future that she could be re-united with her. She would just have to have faith, but, she though wryly, faith in what?

Unless she found some way out of this horror, she would become a cripple, a simpleton, maybe a child. The night-wing which covered her would hold her in the daytime, and keep her warm, and then at night, it would cover her, and steal her memories, and she would descend into a life of empty servitude, with no memories to sustain her, only that blinding, consuming pleasure to look forward to every night.

Perhaps when death came, it was welcomed with open arms.

Tsanja realised then that all of the remaining memories of the last three days were stuck fast, were held in her mind, all of her imaginings and analysis, all of her plans, everything.

It was preparing to take three whole days of her life.

How long would it be before it had taken all of her mind, consumed her every memory? How long before she had regressed to a child, not knowing how she had ended up in a woman’s body?

It was slower this time, and what consciousness she was allowed could only look on in dismay as those tendrils moved, deeper, deeper, and her pleasure was increased. Oh, it was so much stronger this time. She pushed her fingers into herself, to feel the touch of something real as much as to give her pleasure something to focus on, and this time she could almost see as the night-wing suckled on her mind, and feel as her memories disappeared. As her pleasure peaked, she pushed into herself, hard, thrust her fingers in, and gave up her memories to it, pushed them out of herself into its greedy maw, just to increase the pleasure she was feeling.

This feeding must have taken an hour, coming in wave upon wave of paralysing pleasure. The night-wing finally released her, and, exhausted, she no longer had any reason to fear it. Tsanja was alone now. She remembered nothing of its hunger, it only left a vague memory of perverted pleasures shared, and she stroked it gently, loving her new pet, and they both drifted into a dreamless sleep.