The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The savannah was vast, with grasses that gleamed bright gold. The sea of golden grass was not unbroken, however. Trees, Alice recognized them as Acacias, grew at regular intervals, and a few rocky hills were visible in the distance. The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, though it now cast a shadow in front of Alice, rather than behind her. It was now the afternoon, though it felt like a lifetime since she had arrived.

She still felt some sense of urgency about the need to get home, although she couldn’t remember why. Home was a strict place, she seemed to recall, a place which would not tolerate her unexcused absence. She shook her head; wherever home was, it was not here, and that was why it was important to get back.

Her eyes cast around the ground, wondering if there were any plants she could use as a writing utensil to continue drawing her map. The grasses presented an obvious route; she could find a dry one, pluck it, and try to sharpen its end into a fine point to use like a quill. An ink substitute would be harder to acquire. Logically, a place like this would have berries or some other staining fruit or vegetable which she could use as impromptu ink. But then, Wonderland was not a logical place.

Aside from the Acacia trees, there seemed to be no other plants nearby. As she gazed into the distance, Alice say that there seemed to be trees and other plants growing on the rocky hills far away, perhaps some other plants grew in their shade. So she set off into the sea of grass.

She kept her eyes peeled; half-expecting Whatever to spring out at her unexpectedly from the grasses. The shapeshifter had helped to guide her and introduce her to each new province of Wonderland thus far, and she could certainly use her guidance in this vast plain. The rocky hills were noticeable features, but that did not mean that they lay in the direction in which she wanted to go. She knew from the sun that she was still headed east, but she also needed to go a little bit south, too, and there was no expecting that the provinces were evenly shaped (they so rarely were).

Caution was needed for another reason; she could only imagine what sort of perils lurked in this domain. The leaves of the Acacia trees could be an addictive intoxicant, causing her feet to plant into the earth and her arms to reach up to the sky, her body twisted and gnarled. The grasses could leave fertile pollen and make her dive down into the sea, never to emerge. Or some sphinx-like creature, part lioness and part woman, could stalk these plains like their cousins in Rhodesia, waiting not to kill her, but to bear her down and forcibly make her one of the pride.

It was with her eyes open that Alice spotted the first danger. Something glinted on the plains, a different tone than the sunlight on the dried, golden grasses, it lay nigh to a large, flat rock. She approached it and recoiled in horror; it was a shed snake’s skin, but what size! Just looking at it, Alice could have worn it like a skirt. She had never been afraid of snakes before, but the tiny snakes back home were mostly harmless. She had read of the ones in the Amazon, in French Gabon, in Burma, and those could be quite horrible.

There was a rustle in the grass, and then another, and that was all the warning that Alice got. “Gotcha!” came a playful voice, and something lashed out of nowhere, wrapping the girl around her dress and lifting her off the ground. Alice screamed for the suddenness of the assault and shut her eyes in terror; she felt scales against her bare arms.

“Awh…” the voice said sadly. “Don’t be scared, you’re going to ruin the fun!” Alice opened her eyes and saw what gripped her. From the waist down, she was a huge snake with a long, muscular tail covered in scales in a range of yellows and golds. From the waist up, she was a shapely naked woman with sun-browned skin and platinum hair.

Alice looked back at her silently, still shivering in fright.

“You’ve really never done this before, have you?” the snake-woman asked. “I’m the big, bad snake; you’re the helpless little… say, what are you anyway?”

“My name is Alice,” the human replied, slowly regaining her nerve. “I’m just a girl.”

The snake-woman pondered her for a moment, and then her face lit up. “You’re a foreigner! Oh, frabjuous day! Foreigners are the best at this game.”

“I’d really rather n—“ Alice began, but the snake-woman tightened her grip.

“Now now,” the predator said with a grin. “You don’t get to decide whether you play. Here in the savannah, everyone plays this game. Oh dear!” she said with a burst of realization. “That’s right, a foreigner wouldn’t know me. I’m Lady Lamia, and I set the rules in the Golden Savannah. But if you really don’t want to play, all you have to do is win quickly. If you can get away from me, then you’ll be safe.” She looked up at Alice, who still seemed afraid. “Hey now,” Lamia soothed, lowering Alice to the ground. “Even if you lose, you’re still going to have fun, I promise.”

“I shall do no such thing,” Alice said, collecting herself enough to be defiant again. “Good day!” she called, and then she was off like a shot.

Alice had played at lawn tennis throughout her adolescence, in a time she no longer remembered, and so was in good physical shape. Compared to the citizens of this province, however, she was helpless as a babe in the woods. Her attire was a significant hindrance; the dress of flowers Forget-me-not had given her was ill-suited for running, and between the pale blue, white, and yellow flowers, two of the colors stood out starkly against the golden grasses. But even if she had been appropriately clad, she was far too slow.

She made it, perhaps, twenty yards before Lamia was upon her. She slithered up rapidly, pulling in front of Alice.

“You’re good for a foreigner,” Lamia said with a smile. “But foreigners never last long at this.”

Without replying, Alice leapt to the side, but Lamia had curled her long tail around in a wide loop, and she lashed out with it, catching Alice with a heavy blow in midair.

“Oof!” Alice collapsed, winded, into the grass.

“You had your chance,” Lamia said, drawing the ring of her tail closer around Alice. The girl looked around fearfully. “I promise this’ll be fun,” Lamia said again, trying to soothe her prey.

“I don’t want to play,” Alice said.

“The ones who last this long always think that saying no will stop me,” Lamia said, sounding a little bored. “But do you think saying “no” works on snakes?”

“But you’re not a snake,” Alice said. She tried to take a step away, but Lamia drew the ring of her tail in tight around Alice’s ankles. “At least, not all of you,” she added sheepishly. “And everyone I’ve met around here just wanted to “promote the heart’s desire,” or something like that.” She leaned over and tried to pry her legs free from the coil trap.

“And some desires go deeper than consent,” Lamia said. She slid close to Alice now, rearing up on her tail so that she was a head taller than the human. “Some hungers, some wants, lie deep down inside us, where no and yes have no meaning.” It was then that Alice first noticed Lamia’s eyes; yellow orbs with predatory, gimlet slits. A flicker of light, barely perceptible, ran from her iris outward.

“I… don’t know what you mean…” Alice said slowly. Lamia’s eyes were powerful, captivating.

“I think you do know,” Lamia replied, lifting Alice’s chin gently with her fingers. “Everyone obeys the laws of nature, whether they wish to or not. There is a predator, and there is its prey. The predator hungers for dominance, and deep down, the prey longs to submit. At the very last moment, when the prey has exhausted all resistance, it surrenders to its own fate, and feels the ultimate ecstasy. You know you want it too…” Her eyes began to flicker again.

Alice was transfixed, like a helpless squirrel caught in a snake’s gaze. Lamia’s flickering golden eyes told her everything she needed to know; Alice was finished. There was no escape, and any move she made would be futile. “Now don’t be rude,” Lamia said. Alice only barely perceived her, the words slid into her mind around the thin gap around her powerful, flickering gaze. “Your clothes, Alice. They’re in the way.”

“Sorry…” Alice sighed. She lifted her arms, and Lamia began tearing the vines and flowers off of her body, making short work of Forget-me-not’s dress. Lamia made no notice of the map, torn out when she dismantled the dress’ pocket, and it was cast aside with the rest.

“Much better,” Lamia said. “Nice and smooth for my coils.”

“Mmmhh…” Alice moaned as Lamia began to coil her. The coils slid over her hips, over her waist, underneath her arms, which rested comfortably outside her new nest of coils. Her eyes never broke away from the flickering light of Lamia’s orbs, and Lamia was careful not to break the spell, but to continue binding Alice’s mind as tightly as she bound her body.

“See? Fun! You’re like a helpless little lamb, picked off from her flock.” She leaned in and kissed Alice, her long tongue sliding around the girl’s mouth. Doing so required breaking eye contact, and then the uncomfortable feeling of a snake’s tongue in her mouth allowed Alice’s senses to regain ground.

“No, stop!” she pleaded. “I don’t want to die!”

“Die?” Lamia was taken aback. “Is that why you’ve been so scared of me? Nobody dies in Wonderland, silly. But,” she added, as she tightened the squeeze of her coils such that Alice began to have trouble breathing, “that doesn’t mean I’m not going to eat you and make you mine.” Her eyes began to flicker again. “You are prey. You will be prey, forever and ever, right here on the savannah.”

Short of breath, Alice succumbed faster to Lamia’s hypnotic gaze. Her eyes hooded, though they did not close, so mesmerizing was the flickering light. Content with her level of control, Lamia slithered back towards the flat rock some yards away. She held her captive above the level of the grass, allowing the ends of the golden blades to tickle her toes which dangled down from the cocoon of coils.

When she reached the rock, Lamia undid some of her coils, holding Alice only by her waist. The girl kicked a little in the serpent’s grip, a subconscious will to fight still enduring in her. Lamia knew how to deal with that, however. She lay Alice on her back on the rock, still coiled about the waist, and descended upon her. Lamia then savored Alice’s body, licking and tasting and nibbling around the girl’s breasts, drawing soft squeaks of pleasure from her prey. Lamia built on this foreplay, going lower down and thrusting her tongue into Alice’s wet womanhood. Alice’s body rocked, but her moans were soft, rising only to a grunt of pleasure before she was at last silent.

“Mhmhmhm,” Lamia chuckled. She cast her coils into a loose ring around the rock and leaned back against one of them lazily. She lifted Alice, then laid her down gently on her broad-scaled snake belly such that Alice’s head rested against her chest. The foreign girl was slack against her, her eyes hooded, still seeing only reflections of Lamia’s mesmerizing light. “You’re feeling it now, aren’t you? There’s no fight left in you; there’s no reason to fight. You’ve surrendered, totally in my power, in the grip of the ultimate ecstasy.”

The tip of her tail reached out again, sliding around Alice’s waist and lifting her into the air without a hint of response from the dominated girl. Lamia lifted her up higher, and then reached down to her own waist. A slit appeared where skin met scale, and Lamia forced it open, blushing a little as she did so. A large mouth opened, slick and fleshy and toothless, it resembled an enlarged vaginal opening. Using her hands and her tail, Lamia guided Alice’s feet and legs into her lower mouth.

“Mmh,” she moaned slightly as Alice began to enter her. “This never stops feeling good.” She savored the feeling as Alice’s legs went in, struggling a little to get the girl’s hips inside. Then she let Alice go, and the girl fell limp against Lamia’s torso, her head resting between the predator’s breasts.

“You’re finished now,” she said, embracing Alice to her. “I will adore savoring you. And then you’ll be reborn, like all of my prey. But you won’t come out the same way you went in. I wonder what sort of prey you will be? In any case, I hope we can play again…” she kissed Alice briefly, and then continued pushing the girl into her lower mouth.

Alice entered Lamia without resistance, but perception was not entirely gone. Sticky warm wetness surrounded her and soothed her. This was the bliss of the end, surrounding by the faint sounds of Lamia’s body, going on into a warm and dark end. It was indeed the ultimate ecstasy, and Alice could not even tell when it faded into utter oblivion.

She awoke in a dimly-lit space, still surrounded by warmth and stickiness. She could only perceive a vague impression of light; like the kind one sees when they shut their eyes against the sun. Touch was her only true sensation, but she could barely move. The walls of her prison seemed to be solid, but she could not maneuver to touch them, being bound within this space by lashes of a sticky substance. And then you’ll be reborn. Alice suddenly remembered Lamia’s words. So she had returned to the womb, or…

No, Lamia was part snake. So Alice was inside an egg. Slowly the dim memories of being subdued, entranced, stripped, and consumed began to return to her, and to her horror, she was not repulsed by them. “Ultimate ecstasy,” Lamia had said, and that phrase had been quite apt. It was ultimate in the sense that her feeling of total submission had felt better than anything the young girl had ever experienced, even amidst the other temptations of Wonderland. It was also ultimate in its finality, that it was a pleasure which could only be experienced before the end.

Except it was not the true end. Alice had been eaten, had felt the true bliss of final surrender, and she was still alive. She would be reborn, she would live again and have the chance to experience that ecstasy all over again. Unbidden, a memory sprang to Alice’s mind of a squirrel she had seen long ago; racing in the open space between two trees, it had been snatched off the ground by a hawk hurtling out of the sky.

How had that squirrel felt, in its final moments? Racing off into the heavens, nothing left but to accept its own fate. She was like that squirrel now, meant to live and to die, to go about her life until she was taken by a stronger creature. And Alice would be taken, and would love it, forever and ever.

No. I am Alice. She was not prey. I am Alice. Even if being prey felt better than anything else. I am Alice. “Let me out!” she cried, thrashing in her confinement. I am Alice. Her sticky confinement. I am Alice. The egg through which she would be reborn. “Let me out! Someone!” I am Alice. Warm and sticky and dark. “Please! Help me!” All she had to do was wait to hatch on her own. I am…

The girl’s mental battle was interrupted. Knock. She stopped yelling. Knock knock. “Is someone out there?” she asked.

Crack. She could see it now, a crack in the eggshell, slivers of light running along the jagged veins. The cracks widened, and then the light poured in, alongside a hand.

“Hello?” a voice came.

“Oh thank heavens!” the girl cried. “You saved me!”

“Saved ya?” the voice said. The girl could identify it as a woman’s voice, with somewhat of a country drawl. “You prey folk don’t need savin’ from your eggs. This is the first I’ve seen it. Come on now,” she said. “Let’s get ya out.” The cracks broadened further still, and the egg was split wide open.

It was then that the girl could see her rescuer: she was closer to human than most of what the girl had encountered so far. Her rescuer had short-cut black hair and pale human-ish skin; her arms, and hands were both proportional, though she herself was larger and taller than the human. Her breasts were massive, and contained only by a thin, makeshift bustier of cow hide, spotted black and white. She diverted only in that she had a tail, white with a black tip like a paintbrush, and a pair of stubby horns growing out of her forehead. Her coloring was hard to discern, as the light of the sun was growing red, though with dawn or dusk the girl could not tell. She had spent some time in the egg.

Her rescuer reached down and offered the human her hand. She pulled the girl out of the sticky confines of the egg when she remarked on her appearance. “Hey, what are you?”

“Oh,” the girl said, thinking about it a moment. “I’m just a girl.”

“Yer not prey? You looked furrier a minute ago. But I guess you would’ve hatched on yer own if’n you were. Name’s Bess,” she said, offering a hand to the girl, who shook it. “I’m the matron o’ this herd. And you?”

The girl put a finger to her lips. It seemed sensible that she should have a name, and yet she could not remember one. She recalled having this same feeling when meeting people for the second time, trying to remember a name she knew she had learned, but was just beyond recall. “I don’t remember,” she said finally.

“You don’t remember? Well where are you from?”

“Not here,” the girl said slowly. “Far away. A more sensible country.”

“Hmm,” Bess’ expression softened. “Well yer welcome to join the herd if you want.” She motioned with her arm, and the human noticed a number of figures standing further away. Some were people just like Bess, with a few children among them. Others were full-on cows, wandering about and chewing on the golden grass contentedly. The girl then noticed that all of the people were women, the adults horned and busty like Bess, while the cows all had longer, sharper horns.

The girl may have forgotten her name, but she had not forgotten her peril, or what “join” meant in this context. “I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “I just have to go east.” That much, at least, she remembered.

“Fine? Hah!” Bess snorted. “Who was stuck in one of Lady Lamia’s eggs? Only safety for folk like us out here is safety in numbers. We can go east,” she added. “And you’ll just stay with us until we get ya sorted out. Come on, we gotta get away from here anyway. The Lady likes to check on her eggs now and again.”

A warning of danger rung in the back of the girl’s mind, but she could see no argument against it. Besides, she was quite unaware of the time, and couldn’t tell east from west without knowing whether the sun was rising or setting now. She nodded briefly, and Bess led the way into the herd.

The girl was introduced to everyone at once, which is to say that she remembered none of them in particular. All of the women and young girls seemed to have names that started with a B sensible ones like Bev and Bonnie, or strange ones like Bossie and Bova. The steers, meanwhile, had incredibly outlandish names like Featheringham Costinholl or Caspertondale Fladougherty. Bess insisted that they were all gentlemen of refined taste, though the girl could see no sign of this. “We’ve gotta take our guest on east,” Bess announced after she introduced everyone. “So let’s head out!”

The herd moved after that. The calves and the children thankfully set a sustainable pace; the girl noticed that the steers, and even the cow-women, could move at a great speed without even breaking into a run. They went along for an amount of time the girl could not track, possibly a few hours (the sun did not move from its evening position), before she began to grow weary.

“We’re camping here!” Bess called out to the herd all of a sudden. Everyone stopped, with the steers moving to form a loose circle around the calves, women, and children. “I thought you could use some rest,” she said to her guest.

“Thank you,” the girl said politely. “I am rather tired; it’s been a long day since I arrived.”

“Ya hungry?” Bess offered. She was stomping down the grass in a circle around her.

“Famished,” the girl replied. “I don’t think I’ve eaten since this morning, however long ago that was. What are you serving?”

“Yer lookin’ at it,” Bess said, sitting down and untying her bustier. Her breasts were firm for their great size.

“Oh…” the girl breathed. “My… you mean...?” She glanced around and saw two of the women sitting together, one in the lap of the other, nursing from her bosom. Two of the girls were doing the same with another of the women, who had a swollen belly. The steers in the outer circle were grazing languidly. “Is this all you eat?”

“All the girls eat, yeah,” Bess replied. “Come on,” she added, cupping her breasts with her hands. Her nipples arrowed outward.

The girl hesitated, but her stomach growled. Something about Bess felt different than the others she had met so far. They had all had an element of temptation and danger to them; offering her something that was wrong but desirable. Bess’ offer was strange, but the woman felt genuine and motherly. Bess made her feel safe.

The girl nodded and approached Bess. She sat down on the cow-woman’s lap, and Bess cradled her up to her bosom. It was now that the girl could really appreciate how much larger Bess was. The girl was larger than most of the herd’s children, but the adults like Bess had a good 18 inches on the human.

“Go on, this’s no time to be shy,” Bess encouraged. The girl moved her head in, putting her lips around the cow-woman’s engorged nipple, and she began sucking. The milk flowed in, quickly and easily. The girl swallowed it.

“How d’ya like it?” Bess asked.

The girl pulled away from the nipple and looked up at the matron. “It’s marvelous!” she said. “Creamy and sweet.”

“Well I thank ya kindly,” Bess replied. “Drink on up.”

The girl readily complied. It was indeed creamy and sweet, thick and soothing to her throat, and warmed to the perfect temperature from Bess’ body heat. Drinking it gave the girl a thought of home, a distant memory of being scolded as a small child for drinking the creamer directly from the pitcher. The tea creamer had been sublime, but this was far more delicious, and she could drink all she wanted.

“There you go,” Bess said encouragingly. “Ya best drink a lot, we need to get ya big n’ strong n’ busty. Pretty young lass like you will fit right in here. We’re all one big happy herd, and you’ll get a home and a name of your own.”

Home, the girl thought. I have one of those already, don’t I? She strained to think, but her mind had gone fuzzy. She had just remembered something about her home, hadn’t she? She shifted a little in Bess’ grip as she kept suckling, feeling the give of Bess’ soft breast against her face. The cow-woman’s warm, creamy milk was flowing into her, the warmth mirroring her body heat, wrapping the girl’s body and mind like a soft downy blanket.

“Yup,” Bess continued. “Once you’re all grown up and ready, you’ll have your pick o’ the steers, then you’ll get your milk and have some calves n’ girls of your own, a long happy life here on the savannah.”

“Hmmm…” the girl moaned as she continued suckling. It all sounded quite lovely; a happy life, a home, a name, and a family. She tried to imagine it, but she was so very warm; warm and tired. Her eyelids fluttered and her suckling began to slow.

“Ya gettin’ sleepy?” Bess asked. “Yeah, our milk’s a little strong for foreigners. But you’ll get used to it. Before ya know it, you’ll be drinkin’ it all day long. But for now ya can get some shuteye.”

“Hmmwahhh…” the girl moaned, which transitioned into a yawn as she stopped drinking. She licked the remnants of milk off her lips as her eyes hooded and Bess gently laid her on the beaten-down grass.

“G’night,” Bess said lovingly.

“G’night,” the girl managed to reply, an instant before she was claimed by slumber.

The girl woke up, feeling strangely unsteady on her feet. She tottered around until one foot ended up in water. Looking around, she saw that she was on the edge of a pond. In the pond she found her reflection. The shoulder-length blond hair was still present, but otherwise she was much changed: stubby horns on her head, a tail swishing lazily behind her, and she was curvier, much curvier, more substantial hips and thighs, and a massive bust.

She cupped her huge breasts in her hands, feeling their weight and pawing at her nipples. A thrill of stimulation ran through her body, but though she drew her hands away, her arousal did not cease. Her breasts felt good, very good, but she was missing something…

Something wet bumped into her back, and she turned around to find a steer behind her. She patted the steer on the head in a friendly way, but the steer still nudged its wet nose into her body insistently. She looked at its face, and then understood. Her arousal quickened, her pussy growing wet. Leaning over, she saw the steer was well-ready, a glistening red cock surging out of its sheath.

The girl stepped away from the pond, lowering herself to the soft ground, presenting herself before the steer. This was what was missing; she would mate and have a calf or a child, and then she would make milk for all the herd to enjoy.

The steer mounted her, and… howled like a wolf?

Arooo!

“Move, move! We gotta get goin’!” Bess’ voice rang out clearly. The girl awoke with a gasp; the whole herd was in chaos, with the steers mooing and the women calling back and forth. In the distance, wolf-howls could be heard. It was now nighttime, with a low half-moon rising in the east, casting just enough light for the girl to make out the movements of the herd.

“Up you get, girlie,” Bess said, turning to address her guest. “You ain’t fast enough to get away yerself. Caspertondale!” One of the steers trotted over to them quickly. “Get on up,” Bess said, grabbing the girl and helping her mount the back of the steer.

“What’s going on?” the girl asked.

“Wolf-pack’s attackin’. Third time this month, but we’ll shake ’em. You just hang on tight. Hya!” she slapped the steer’s flank and he ran off swiftly into the night. The girl caught glimpses of some of the women carrying the calves over their shoulders as they ran, while the children rode other steers. Another group of women and steers seemed to be running off in a different direction.

The girl tried to follow Bess’ instructions, but steers weren’t meant for riding, and her mount was going at a thunderous pace. She was barely keeping astride the great beast when wolf-eyes suddenly flashed out of the grass before them. The herd turned suddenly, but that was too much for the poor girl who finally slipped off the steer’s back, falling into the grass. She lay there in shock as the sound of thundering hooves and wolf-howls trailed away, and continued lying there as all went silent.

Just as she sat up, however, there was a sudden rustling in the grass. A thrill of fear shot through the girl as she saw luminescent wolf-eyes again. She tried to stand, but the wolf was upon her!

“Hey there, looks like you made it far without my help, Alice.”

The girl’s heart beat furiously as she opened her eyes to look up at the figure which crouched on top of her. It had a wolf’s eyes, and a wolf’s face, but the light revealed a hominid, feminine physique, albeit covered by grey fur. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Oh dear,” the wolf said. “You haven’t… forgotten, have you? It’s me, Whatever. But who are you?”

“I am me,” the girl said. “Who else would I be?”