The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I want to make sure that regardless of how the entire story feels for all the readers, that you all know how much I appreciate you reading and those five other authors who contributed their time and unquestionable talents for this project. This was at times a difficult story and yet entirely worth those difficulties. I owe these authors and the readers more than I can say. So thanks.

Mindtrap Manor

Chapter 7: Inside its Walls a Library Grows

From the mind of Kris P. Kreme

There is a place where no one goes, at least not anymore. Long ago, perhaps before time became time, and the days had names, one man entered the manor. He was a seeker of knowledge, a seeker of truth, a seeker of stories. That man had a gift as many before him, the gift of expanding his mind.

But as so often is the case, a gift is nothing without the ability to use and share with others. To surpass one’s own abilities, to grow, and most importantly to enjoy, those are the essential ingredients to a successful mind.

Long ago he entered, but he did not exit. For him there was no leaving. For him the manor became a part of him and he a part of it. No one leaves the manor the same. He once wrote that himself, a line in some now long forgotten poem. It was true for him then, it became true for all those trapped or released throughout the ages. The mansion was a living entity, a being of machinery and mind, merged on an infinitely miniscule and yet oh so massive scale. The world was outside the manor but the manor was outside the world.

What he sought was knowledge, the ability to use one hundred percent of the human mind. What he found was a new way of existing, a place where body ceased to be and the mind, when freed, realized that true enjoyment came from not simply existing but from sharing the perverse nature of the human spirit. At the core, this man was a man like any other. He had desires, base urges, depraved fantasies. Once his mind was fully free, he decided what better way to free others than to share his own ideas and the ideas of thousands of others throughout the ages?

For a millennia the library stood as the center of this mansion, the heart of the manor, a living, breathing sustainer of all this man helped to reveal in the conquered human mind. This man was a librarian long before he ever set foot inside the manor. He would remain one until long after. For generations he would share the contents of that library, the stories of those who entered, those who tried to leave, and even those who decided they never really wanted to leave. This was his gift to the world, a simple gift from a simple man, a man named Simon.

Once, long ago, when Simon had his own life, a traditional life with a less than one hundred percent human mind, he earned a name, a word that villagers tossed around freely behind his back. He knew they spoke of him and he knew why. Simon was different, a seeker, a teller of tales, and more importantly, a fighter for freedom of one’s fantasy. He fought the tradition of his time and left that time far away, locked in his past along with everyone his human self ever knew. The memories of that world slowly faded but Simon chose to embrace it, to never let that name leave him. So he became what they’d always called him, Simon bar Sinister.

A librarian by trade, a librarian forever, that is what the sinister man would become for those who came to his manor. How they showed up was a miracle even he could not explain to one with a normal mind. But everyone makes a wrong turn, a stumble in the dark, a mistaken roll out of a nice safe bed. Sometimes they don’t end up where they think they should. Sometimes the floor they land on is somewhere else. The absence of light in a darkened room can become a doorway to somewhere much different, some place sinister. When the mind is involved, anything can happen, and inside the mansion that is what Simon thrives on to this very day.

As time progressed, the need for a literal library slowly dwindled. These days books were becoming a thing of the past, and a new form of technology had taken over the spreading of a given story. Perhaps the books grew dusty on the shelves, but the stories they held were still vibrant and alive, traveling a different road down electronic circuitry and deep into a new library, one where everyone in the world could share in their tales. This was the world thirteen individuals came from most recently, a world where logic and reason were so commonly accepted that true mystery had almost been lost to an entire generation.

Like a lot of things mystery never really died. Just when the dark and sometimes depraved desires inside one’s mind seemed like they too might vanish forever, Simon was there to share new tales, to keep the sinister alive. The world may not understand him but he understood the world, every last technologically advanced, blindly logical part of it. His mystery was one the world would never find, because to understand him, one would have to choose to enter the manor. Those that did, never really did so of their own choice. The manor had far reaches, into deep dark parts of even the weakest minds. This was a place where no one goes and inside its walls, a library grows.

He still exists, that man who entered long ago, he still resides in his home, his domain. Were one to somehow travel through corridors and hallways, past pipes and tubes and wires and circuitry, they would eventually come to a solitary room located directly beneath the library. Inside this room, you might find Simon, or what used to be known as Simon. Now he would appear much more as a machine, a voice inside an assemblage of electronic parts. This machine would contain within it all the knowledge of the universe. Yet it might appear an incongruent conglomeration of outdated computers and monitors and cords and wires. Simon wasn’t worried about this, it was only an outer shell, something he’d learned to exist in. Deep within this block of machinery in the center of the room, hidden behind endless layers of technology and mystery, there you would find Simon bar Sinister, the mind behind it all.

What was it that made a story great? Was it the author, the plot? Was it the action found within the words? Or just maybe, was it the characters? Did the characters create their own stories and through those unique creations, was the mind freed just a little? Simon could answer all these questions in such a way as to make you doubt you even understood the meaning of the words. Such was the mystery of this place. Understanding was the least of your worries should you find yourself there. Maybe the characters in stories didn’t ultimately free the mind, maybe they trapped it. Perhaps reading a story trapped a part of yourself in that story forever, and thus the world was actually a slave to librarians. For a librarian, the pages of books contained lifetimes, experiences lived and loved, villains conquered and suffered, perversions shared and enjoyed. He who controlled the library controlled the world.

Inside that room, where Simon still waits, knowing his guests would always be coming, new tales just waiting to be written, there was a small plaque. And on this plaque was written the last series of words ever spoken by the voice of Simon before he became Simon bar Sinister.

There is a place where no one goes,
How long it’s stood, nobody knows.
If you should arrive, watch your step, choose your door,
Lest your mind be altered forever more.
Trap your body, free your mind,
the true way out you’ll never find.
Start in the library, search through a book,
read a passage, give it a look.
This is the place where reality ends,
where your mind submits and the story begins.
There is a way out, but not where you came,
for nobody leaves the manor the same.
There is a place where no one goes.
Inside its walls a library grows.

Simon was a man, and like a man he enjoyed the company of women. But a woman’s mind was so much more satisfying in the long run. There’s never been anything quite so enjoyable as watching a woman struggle to accept the truth in what he says. Right from the beginning, the host of the manor was always truthful in both word and action. The manor has exactly one way out, but that way out was not where one came from. To truly escape with your mind fully intact was simple when one realized that going inward was the way out. Go deeper, not further. Escape lay just below their feet as they stood in the library. A small door, the one consistent structure that never changed because it was the one place even Simon couldn’t alter with the power of a fully realized mind. The small hatch located below the machines that keep the manor functioning was the only way in or out. All the others were illusions.

There were those that left and found themselves other places, other times, but they never truly left the manor. The manor simply chose to leave them alone for a while. Maybe they’d return, maybe not. The truth was not in knowing if, but knowing why.

The mind is a powerful thing, but like anything it needs nourishment, and stories are the lifeblood to Simon now. He thrives off the new character, the new situation, the different approach to an existing situation. And on this night he was pleased.

The cameras were everywhere inside the manor, allowing Simon to see all stories as they were written. The process was such a unique experience to each who fell victim to his traps that he never grew tired of seeing new characters become what they were always meant to be, what was always hovering just below the surface inside their minds. It was the moments afterwards when Simon took stock in what new stories had been told.

Poor Colleen and Megan, Simon thought, they were so young and strong. What man couldn’t find enjoyment in a lovely pair of sisters. Where the elder was responsible and independent, the younger was strong and fighting to be recognized as not just a little girl. Well, Simon realized, their story seemed to have an appropriate ending, an ending that in many ways was a beginning for their new and more perverse lives to lead into. Even the dark stranger, a character from any good mystery, couldn’t warn them about the true nature of this place. And he came so close, Simon inwardly sighed. He read them the titles of some books. He recognized the theme of the library. Of course now he served a much more fruitful purpose, one he’d enjoy for some time to come.

Deep within the structure of the manor, a series of machines began the process of cleaning the pool, polishing the marble statues and ensuring that all would be well for whatever the next guest to stumble in would find. On the floor, not fifteen feet from the edge of the pool, Megan still bent over, Stew still serving her needs and endlessly cumming inside her womb. She grinned like the little fuck bunny she now was, a creature only wanting to do one thing, the thing bunnies were best at. Simon smiled at the observation of such undisguised lust. Megan would get her wish, he thought. Never again would she be the little girl, not when she was doing it the way bunnies did. Bunnies had a purpose to their mating and she would serve that purpose well.

Big sister Colleen was a different case. Maybe she wasn’t so responsible anymore but her spirit was still independent and that was her true ending. Even now, as she rested from having her own fun with the machine-like Stew, Colleen allowed Megan to slurp away at her large nipples, giving her sister something to focus on other than the cock working its way deeper and deeper inside her hungry little pussy.

Back inside the dark and dusty library, a whirring sound hummed as one shelf widened, several faded books falling apart and revealing a dark empty space. A freshly printed novel slowly slid out in between them, the tight leather binding new and free from the damage of time.

“Keys to Success,” announced the Vincent Price voice. “A story of love and family, and the mysterious stranger who brought them together.”

In one of the many kitchens hidden among the twists and turns inside the manor, another three cuddled and shared in the frantic merging of food and body. Their tale was one of gluttony and lust, a true lesson in what life was really all about. For Debbie, her goals were clear now, to clean and cook, and not only serve the meals but provide the after-dinner entertainment as well. Of course the family would be coming along quite rapidly in the coming years for her. There was no sense in continuing to expand her mind in school, when expanding her womb was so much more enjoyable. As for her own diet, a fresh source of protein every hour seemed like the fitting nutrition for someone in her position.

Currently Rick and Vic shared not just a similar name but the young body of a formerly all thinking and no action woman. They fucked into her together from both ends, making sure each of them got what was needed. For Debby a full womb and a fuller tummy, for Vic something more stimulating than tweeting all day on his phone, and for Rick a place to sink his cock and get his daily workout.

In the library, another shelf widened and a new book revealed itself. “Debbie does the Duo and Dessert,” Simon announced to nobody in particular. “A story to feed the mind and the libido.”

Somewhere else inside the large mansion, a camera floated out and surveyed the newest additions to the art gallery. The seemingly frozen orange figures moved just enough for their actions to be apparent. Never again would they go their separate ways. No, Simon mused, sticking together would not be a problem for these three.

The story was one all good libraries needed. It was a comedy of lust, a humorous slant on what motivates someone, and a true look into what makes a man and a woman connect on the most intimate levels. The three were now most definitely connected. Sudoku, while repetitive, had quickly become one of Simon’s greatest side interests. Watching them struggle to see the true trap they were already falling victim to was not just the icing on the goo, it was the substance and life of the story. To Simon there was no question about the title of this tale.

“Nothing Goo It,” the ancient loudspeaker announced, a new novel sliding out into the widened shelving of dusty books. “A story to make you laugh, make you cry out in passion, and make you realize your hands are stuck to the pages and just a little bit orange.”

A mind was a terrible thing to waste, Simon thought, knowing what happened to the next pair of his guests. But sometimes, just sometimes, watching that mind waste away into a bubbly little bimbo was the most perverted enjoyment a man could get. Maybe the two young women were doomed from the beginning, looking at their situation much too logically. They assumed someone cleaned the mansion. This was only the first mistake.

Keeping one door slightly cleaner than the others and creating the look of a more heavily travelled path was quite easy for Simon. It always trapped those who fell for thinking things through to the most infinite degree. Carolyn and Rebecca, or Flynn and Becky, were now serving as mindless entertainment to men in a certain city Simon liked to frequently check in on. One of them kept her mental capacity intact, but was that really a victory given the situation she now found herself in?

Was it better to be a fool who enjoyed what they do, or intelligent but doing a fools job? Simon could possibly answer even this timeless question but in this case the bimbo Becky would clearly find much more satisfaction in entertaining the men she danced for. Even her extra special up close and personal sessions were more enthusiastically embraced than Flynn’s were.

Simon bar Sinister checked in on the two of them, if not equally happy in their new professions, more than equally skilled at what they did. Becky was back stage allowing one of the bouncers of Chrystal Pleasures the pleasure of bouncing his cock deep into her cunt from behind. As he held her up by her long red hair, the girl squealed with joy at being happily fucked like the good little girl she was. Maybe long ago she was a real daddy’s girl. Now she’d call any man daddy, if that’s what it took to make him happy.

Out on stage, the ever popular Flynn danced and twirled, wrapping her thighs around the pole and opening them wide to show that she was all woman and completely wet in the joy of doing what she was instructed to. Behind her eyes a struggle raged on. This wasn’t her life. She wasn’t supposed to be this way. That struggle was futile. Her furry collar kept her thoughts from getting the best of her, and her hands kept her nipples hard on her massive and succulent tits. Every man wanted Flynn and she wanted every man, thanks to some helpful assistance Simon allowed Curly to provide.

In another corner of the dimly lit library, the boards creaked and groaned as a new slot opened up and the essential suspense tale made its debut appearance. The binding was pink and slightly fuzzy, the words bright silver.

“Bimbos and Traps,” Simon said. “A simple tale of two young women who always tried to outthink a given predicament, only to find themselves now unable to escape the trap of having bodies made for anything but thinking.”

And finally, Simon sighed, realizing the new additions to his library were nearly over for the moment. The one story that remained a constant throughout the ages was romance. No matter what time and place, there was always the struggle to embrace true love. It was a part of human nature that even the sinister could recognize as uniquely related to both the mind and the body.

Paul and Paula, or more intimately Kelly, were a couple from the very beginning and now happily living a new life, a different life, but one they both found only joy in. Through their differences they found something to connect to, a simple line from an old big band song. And finding those connections was the point of any good story. What bound the characters together? What tied everything up in a nice presentation that every reader could enjoy?

Sometimes the most different minds could have the most in common, Simon saw, looking in on the life that the Vintons now had. They shared everything now, their personalities, their fears, their dreams, and even forgetting their past or where they really came from, anyone could see that these two were to be the happiest of couples for many years to come. Already Paula was serving her womanly duties in the household quite well. Her intellect was benefiting them in the day and age practically. But much of the time she found herself in impractical positions. As Paul happily made love to this woman over and over, he had no idea of how many kids they might have. But that was the beginning of another story and this one was over. Simon was pleased. The perversions of the human mind could have happy endings too, and not nearly as often with guests lately as had once been the case.

“I Know Why (and So Do You).” The Vincent Price voice announced somberly. “A story of two minds that resisted the warping perversions of a trap and bound themselves together to think as one.”

The book slid into place and the library was complete for the moment. Soon enough, more guests would arrive and new stories would be told. Simon bar Sinister would again share in the domination, the submission, the transformation of both body and mind. But for now, this acquisition was over, a new chapter in his own story wrapped up and printed.

What happened to those that survived the traps? They ended up somewhere real, somewhere close to you. Every culture, every civilization, every gathering of human kind throughout history had those the society deemed different. Sometimes they were the perverse, the depraved, the submissive woman, the dominant man, the girl gone slutty, the guy with the mesmerizing eyes, the couple who enjoyed doing private things in a public place. You could find them in every country, in every city, on every street.

Perhaps the next time you pass them by you should stop, ask them how they became the way they are. Maybe, just maybe, they once woke up in a library and found themselves struggling to escape the Mindtrap Manor. Ask them, see what they say. See if they’re trapped in the world they created or if the world is simply slowly becoming trapped in what they’ve become. After all, everyone has a story inside them. The real fun is finding a way to share it.

The End