The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

3.

“Why, Colleen. How good to see you.”

Colleen blinked in surprise as she crossed the main hall, the dull echo of her footsteps resonating across empty space. She sidestepped a round orientation kiosk and headed straight to the security station, grinning widely as she reached the arched doors of the museum entrance.

“Ruth... er, Ah mean Mrs. Walsh... Molly didn’t say you were comin’.”

Colleen blushed a little as she spoke, annoyed by her careless slip into familiarity, but Ruth Walsh offered a gracious smile in response, without a trace of the disdain one might expect from well-to-do elitists who worried about mingling with commoners.

“Actually, it’s a bit of an unscheduled visit. I know Molly sometimes makes a habit of working late. Roger was kind enough to let me in.”

Colleen peeked over Ruth’s shoulder to offer the security guard a courtesy nod, but Roger remained perfectly still, slouched in his usual chair, eyes frozen on the closed-circuit screen flashing a sequence of fuzzy, black-and-white pictures.

Absorbin’ work, ah guess Colleen thought, raising a puzzled eyebrow. She’d pegged Mr. Whiters as a chatty fella back when he’d first started working, but tonight his focus was complete. The normally jovial features had gone completely slack, smoothing out the lines of age, and his cap was slightly askew, barely covering the bald spot he was so sensitive about. His hands rested on the desk, palms flat, fingers extended, next to a half-eaten tuna sandwich and cola he’d purchased from a nearby vending machine; he made no move to reach for either.

“Uh, Roger? You feelin’ alright?”

Roger didn’t answer.

Ruth’s smile became indulgent. There wasn’t a trace of worry in it, but she sensed Colleen’s concern.

“Roger. Everything is fine, isn’t it?”

The security guard stiffened for a brief second. The sound of Ruth’s voice brought a low, throaty moan, while he shifted in his chair. Then, he visibly relaxed, a sigh whistling past his lips.

“Yes, Ms. Walsh. Fine. Everything’s juuuust fine.”

Ruth’s playful wink followed her sympathetic shrug, and Colleen blushed a little more, charmed by the immediate sense of entre-nous that excluded the apathetic guard. Ruth kept her smile as she worked the buttons of her full-length cashmere coat, parting the lapels with a ceremonious flap to reveal a belted skirt and camel-brown turtleneck.

A whiff of rich perfume drifted in the air, tantalizingly familiar.

Ruth took a step forward and said, “I thought you’d be in your office with Molly. What brings you to this side of the building?”

Colleen held up three crisp bills. “’Few of us decided to splurge for a delivery. Ah’m here to pick it up when it gets here.”

She fell in an awkward silence, not wishing to seem uncouth by failing to extend an invitation to join in, but wary of imposing on Ms. Walsh’s time with such a frivolous offer.

“Well, not to worry,” Ruth assured her. “Perhaps you can walk me back to Molly’s office. I won’t bother you for too long...”

“It’s no problem. We can go right away if you wan—”

She turned to Roger, about to hand him the money for the delivery guy, but Ruth touched her hand gently.

“Please don’t trouble yourself. Poor Roger is far too absorbed by his work. It will give us a chance to talk.”

Colleen smiled shyly, feeling a strange current of excitement as Ruth’s hand lingered over hers. Goosebumps prickled their way up her spine, making her a tad lightheaded. The sensation was a familiar one, but her present context had little to do with long summer evenings spent at Murrel’s point, sharing the cramped front seat with Bobby Mcsparren in his father’s sports car.

She blinked her way back to the here and now, baffled by the odd, random association, but a second thrill interrupted her thoughts, coursing all the way down to her toes and fingertips. She paused in mid-breath, staring up into the philanthropist’s wide-set eyes. There was no flash of the past this time, only Ruth’s look of intense interest, mesmerizing her.

“T-Talking’s... fine.”

Ruth smiled and nodded, apparently satisfied, and Colleen’s knees weakened a little. She was very eager to please Mrs. Walsh as best she could.

“Yes, talking is fine,” Ruth repeated slowly, pronouncing words with great care. “I wanted to talk to Molly about a recent purchase I made in Chicago some time ago. Perhaps you could give me your opinion?”

Ruth’s expression had gone all strange. It didn’t seem all that nice anymore, but the odd sense of foreboding it inspired was preposterous. Colleen shook her head to clear her mind, surprised at the thought of having anything to fear from Ruth.

“Ah’m not sure Ah’d be much help, Ms. Walsh... maybe you’re better off asking—”

“Nonsense,” Ruth cooed. “I know how much trust Molly puts in your judgment. I absolutely must know what you think.”

Colleen’s grin stretched wide, tiny flutters of pride filling her insides. She felt a little giddy, and struggled hard not to come off as a complete bubblehead.

“Well... okay...”

Ruth pulled a thin, rectangular velvet case from her coat pocket. It was a rich purple, fitting easily in her hand; Colleen’s eyes fell on it at once, her curiosity focused entirely on what it might contain.

Ruth held it gently between her fingers, working it open with dramatic flair.

Colleen stared in muted awe as Ruth revealed a gorgeous pendant, carefully laid out on a white silky cushion stuffed inside the box. The motif was familiar-two ancient serpents fashioned in pure gold-but these were tightly coiled around each other. Their flat heads rose proudly, facing outwards from each other, suspended on a chain of thread-fine gold hoops. They seemed to absorb the ambient light, casting strange shadows all around, as if to enhance their own glowing radiance.

“Roger didn’t think much of it,” Ruth confessed. “Actually, he doesn’t think much of anything, anymore.”

The words didn’t really register. Colleen simply leaned closer, utterly absorbed by the beauty of the amulet. She struggled to articulate some kind of opinion, but her thoughts had become too slippery for speech. The twin, jeweled eyes of the serpents-Jade of the purest, rainforest green-fractured light in whirlpools of colors, funneling awareness of anything but acceptance and well-being.

“Why don’t you pick it up, Colleen? Take a closer look.”

Colleen’s hand twitched to life. The overriding impulse to reach for the pendant was followed by an electric jolt, throbbing warmly between her thighs. Her eyes stretched painfully wide, as if to absorb more swirls of light.

She took hold of the slender chain, her arm moving sluggishly, as if she were inside a dream. She twirled part of it around her index finger, and raised the pendant out of its case.

Ruth’s comforting voice guided her every move. “Be sure to keep your arm up, Colleen. The play of light is delightful when the serpents are level with your eyes.”

Colleen’s arm responded automatically, becoming straight, rigid, tireless as it held the dangling pendant inches from her nose.

“I love to see it swing, don’t you? I know I can’t pull my eyes from it. You only have to move your arm a little. Sway it back and forth. Focus on it. Focus on the serpent eyes. The twinkling of colors is remarkable.”

Ruth’s whispers were like the sound of distant wind chimes... something she could barely make out... something that filtered down in her consciousness and instilled peaceful calm. Her body responded to every one of Ruth’s suggestions, bringing a profound sense of relief and accomplishment.

Rising excitement simmered in the upper layers of her mind, a response to her body’s sudden longing for more instructions. It was like a flush of warm pleasure, sinking deeper with every breath she took.

“You want to focus on the Light, Colleen. You feel an compelling need to do so. You trust the Light, even as you trust my voice. Looking away is unthinkable. You want to watch. You want to listen. You desire nothing else.”

Colleen’s mouth drifted open. Her mind emptied of all thoughts but the compulsion to stare at the swirling pendant... glowing... swinging back and forth before her eyes.

“You are relaxed, Colleen. Completely relaxed. You feel nothing else. My voice is the only thing you hear now. My voice is the only thing you know and trust. There are no secrets between us. There are no barriers. There is only the sound of my voice, bridging order to your mind and soul.”

The pendant swung relentlessly on its lazy arc. Colleen held it... watched it, subjugated by its power, drifting in a state of dreamy contemplation. She pressed her thighs together, squirming as throbs of pleasure pulsed between her legs.

“You hold the pendant, Colleen. You control its swing. You are watching the Light, dancing back and forth. You are doing this of your own free will. You do so because you want to. Because you trust my voice. Because you do not wish for anything else.”

Colleen sighed deeply, feeling the truth of Ruth’s words echo strange, wanton needs. “...do not... wish... fer... anythin’... else.”

“You want to keep swinging the pendant before your eyes, Colleen. You want to continue to watch the Light. It is pulsing faster now. You have no will to look away from it because you have no desire to do so. You want to keep holding the pendant before your eyes, because you want to surrender to it.”

A rushing tide swelled inside Colleen, flushing away conflicting thoughts, drowning them before they could lure her away from the truth of Ruth’s words. She smiled emptily, contemplating the serpents that swung back in forth before her, a dazzling instrument held by her own hand, patiently waiting for her final act of surrender.

Her own destiny... dangling at the end of a chain...

Colleen’s arm stiffened painfully as she twirled the serpents faster, the only other sensation she could track besides the seeping warmth soaking her crotch.

“Very good, Colleen... you understand now... watch the Light... watch it and let your mind slip away... free yourself of the burden of thought... replace it with trust... replace it with obedience...“

Colleen orgasmed slowly, gasping, keeping her arm straight as she clenched her thighs around the lust-fire burning its way deeper into her soul. She quivered on her feet, moaning helplessly, acceptance filling her with newfound purpose and love.

She needed to please Ruth, as she needed to breathe to remain alive. Everything else was meaningless, everything but obedience to the woman who owned her.

She climaxed again, juices running down the inside of her trousers. Sweet surrender had brought her a taste of rapture.

Obedience would make it eternal.

Ruth said, “Hear and obey the will of your Mistress.”

“Ah hear and obey,” Colleen answered promptly.

“Put the pendant down.”

Colleen brought her arm down stiffly, like a robot.

“You do not see the Light with your eyes. You have no need to. The Light now shines in your mind and soul, where it shall never be extinguished.”

The twin serpents jingled at the end of the chain, forgotten.

“The Light shines in mah mind and soul, where it shall never be extinguished.”

Ruth Walsh reached out and stroked Colleen’s cheek.

“Where is Molly Ashmore?”

“In her office.”

“Is the statuette I had her purchase in London also in her office?”

Colleen remembered how Molly had trusted to keep this a secret, but she quivered through another orgasm as she betrayed her boss’ confidence.

“Yes. S-She has shown it t-to no one... n-nooo one else... uuuuuuughhh.”

Ruth leaned down and fetched the serpents from Colleen’s twitching fingers. She carefully laid them back into the small, velvet case.

“Surprising that Khashagh had chosen her as vessel,” she reflected, “but of no consequence. There are yet ways to turn this to our advantage.”

Her cryptic stare met Colleen’s look of boundless adoration.

“How many others are working in the administrative wing?”

“Eleven, Mistress.”

“And how many security guards?”

“Five, Mistress.”

Determination flashed in Ruth’s eyes. Molly would easily recruit all the women, and hollow-out the minds of the others. She had to act quickly.

“In a moment, you will walk over to the desk and call the women who work in your department. Start with the executive staff. Tell them the director has learned that the city plans on pulling its funding out of five of the museum’s temporary exhibits in the coming year. Tell them he wants to call a meeting right away to discuss implementation of measures to channel public pressure against the initiative.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You will not argue with them. Do not give them time to think. You will speak urgently. You will summon them and hang up. I will be waiting for them.”

Excitement buzzed inside Colleen’s mind. She had no way of understanding Mistress’ complex designs, but felt a sudden thrill at what might be in store for her co-workers when they arrived to the museum and discovered the elaborate deception.

“After that,” Ruth added, “you will undertake another, very important task for me.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Her gaze left Colleen’s vacant eyes to admire her thrall’s shapely figure. She took a long pause, her look of admiration slipping into one of frank lust, her smile turning lecherous as she pondered the myriad of ways to reward this newborn slave with a taste of what was to come.

“First, bow before me, and pleasure yourself.”

In mere seconds, Colleen slipped her pants and underwear down to her ankles. Her knees drifted to the floor, spreading wide, her body falling slowly, as if carried down on the wings of angels.

She slipped a hand against her pussy.

She began to finger herself.

She obeyed.

4.

Lauretta Solokolski drew away from the cordless phone for a moment to stare at it in disbelief.

“Colleen, you’re not making any sense.”

She strode briskly over to the couch, with barely a look towards the serene nightscape outlined in her twenty-fifth floor apartment window. She flicked the pedestal lamp on and fell back on the cushions.

The voice at the other end of the line seemed a little rushed. “Director’s gone ballistic, if you’ll pardon the expression, ma’am. He wants to convene a meeting of the senior staff raght away.”

The metropolitan director of associate programs swore under her breath and kicked her work pumps off to wiggle the cramps out of her toes. She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she always did in times of stress, but it didn’t help much.

“Can you please put him on the line, Colleen? I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Sorry Ma’am. He left to fetch Molly. Practically dragged her to the conference hall, fuming mad. Ah’ve been tryin’ to reach him ever since. He’s got the whole place in an uproar.”

Typical of Charles, Lauretta mused. Third Reich school of crisis management: summon all of your generals and berate them for hours.

Hell. The news of budget cuts were awful to be sure, but even he had to know there was precious little that could be done right now. Better to let the evening go by, and call a meeting the next day, instead of going with the headless chicken routine.

She flung her hair back with the other hand, her voice suddenly filled with adamant resolve. “I’ve just fought an hour of traffic to get here, Colleen. Tell him we ought to wait until tomorrow before considering our options.” There were days when five weeks paid vacation and a private parking spot weren’t enough, and this was one of them.

She bit her slip when she heard Colleen’s disheartened moan. “Ah’m sorry... it’s... it’s just that... Mr. Feldon insisted...“

Lauretta winced. It sounded like Colleen had already caught more than her fair share of hell for something she had absolutely no control over. The outgoing assistant wasn’t one to flinch easily, which meant Charles was on a real rampage; now she was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place, not relishing the prospect of having to inform the big boss that the senior staff was deserting him.

“Christ.”

“Ma’am?”

“Tell him I’ll be there. We’re going to have a little chat when I arrive.” And none of that ‘Ja, mein Fuhrer’ crap, either.

Colleen breathed a deep sigh of relief. Lauretta could almost picture her falling back on her chair, hand pressed against the hammering in her chest, eyes closed, a grateful smile aimed straight at the ceiling.

“T-thank you. Ah... Ah have to call the others n-now...”

“Alright then. I’ll see you lat—”

Dialtone.

Lauretta stared at the receiver, even more puzzled than before. She could have sworn Colleen had stifled a moan-her voice had risen a good octave before hanging up.

She flung the phone on the empty cushion next to her and reluctantly slipped back into her shoes.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose again.

What the hell is going on over there?

5.

Something strange was happening.

Judy Penfield was calm. She breathed slow and deep, standing at ease in the chaos of the office, unperturbed by the mess of papers and the overturned desks, as if she didn’t really belong there. Some distant part of her mind whispered panicked advice, screaming for her to run away, but she wisely disregarded the irrational impulse.

She nudged the prone form of Mrs. Langwell with the back of her foot, but the museum’s financial director did not move. She had checked the unconscious woman’s vitals the moment she’d rushed in, after the shrill of the fire alarm had ceased, but that moment seemed distant now; she could still remember running in from the adjoining hall, hearing Mrs. Langwell yelling something from Molly Ashmore’s office, but all of it had gone blurry, like faint memories from her childhood.

It didn’t matter. Judy stood perfectly still, her eyes drifting shut, only to snap open a second later. Serenity had replaced the confusing turmoil of emotions inside her. She’d been Mrs. Langwell’s protégé, taken under her wing right after her third year at city college, a young, gung-ho graduate, mentored into a seasoned professional. So why wasn’t she upset?

Judy smiled and remembered. Mrs. Langwell’s pulse was strong; she was alive, and that was all that really mattered.

Molly Ashmore had told her so.

Strange. So very strange. She hadn’t actually heard Molly’s voice, but Judy had accepted the words spoken in her mind without fear. It probably had something to do with the sensual rush that followed the thoughts and made her head spin, but her empty mind had no time for such trivialities. All of her apprehension had vanished in a long, breathless sigh; the very act of flexing her thighs, rising up from her mentor’s side, standing, feeling her shoulders and limbs stiffen as if they obeyed some invisible force, had brought her a profound sense of fulfillment.

Molly Ashmore had changed. She sensed it, without even being told, without the evidence of her senses to prove or disprove. Judy was unaccustomed to such reverent thoughts-there was no room in a skeptic’s mind for it. Her chosen curriculum had been filled with courses where she’d analyzed the workings and social role of religion with the care and detachment of a biologist dissecting a specimen.

Staunch, agnostic beliefs had left her unprepared for Divine Revelation. She struggled to keep her feet, the room spinning around her while a dreamy shiver coursed through her entire being.

Her heart raced. She felt special. Chosen. Touched by Grace.

Is this what Faith feels like?

The answer came in a thick cloud of steam, filling the office and obstructing Judy’s vision. Moist heat blew in her face, like the stifling air in the heart of a jungle. She’d dashed under her desk in the office next door to keep her clothes dry when the fire alarm had set off the sprinklers, but now they clung to her skin as she broke into a sweat.

Judy’s hands rose up, fingers twitching over the buttons of the dress shirt. She squirmed on her feet, the urge to undress gliding like a hot serpent between her legs, a perfectly natural thought that mirrored her intense beliefs. This, she knew, was the reward of enlightenment.

She began to pant even harder as she forced her hands back down, realizing that to stand obediently still, suffering through the fierce longing without immediate release turned her on even more.

Heat and desire soared within her. The doubting voice she’d heard moments before diminished to an inaudible whisper, its treacherous heresy silenced without hesitation, smothered by the pulsing rhythm of her clit. The feel of her cotton briefs was dreamy, pressed and soaked against her mound, moving with involuntary twitch of her hips, pulling and stretching against her like a silken tongue.

She flinched as a drop of water splitched the tip of her nose. She looked up after a moment, eyes round and dazed; the steam dissipated near the ceiling, but she was far too lost in her abyss of pleasure to notice how the sprinklers above had all shrunk to blobs of fused metal.

Her eyes fell down again, and a short gasp escaped her lips.

Molly Ashmore was rising from the mist, the clouds parting for her as she took slow, measured steps. Her stride was different, more elegant, like the soaring confidence of a Queen marching before her subjects, keenly aware of her superiority over them.

Droplets fell down from above and sizzled into vapor before they could touch her naked skin. Her back was perfectly upright, her magnificent breasts commanding attention, her hands resting comfortably on the swell of her hips.

Judy could only watch in stunned silence, reeling as her legs twitched, her body trembling under the stirring onslaught. Beauty incarnate strode before her... a Goddess reborn in Molly’s likeness... lithe and graceful... dominant and feminine... a revelation of the senses that filled her eyes tears of jubilant adoration.

Something was rising from the depths of Judy’s subconscious... shadows stirred from mysterious depths... a darkness both familiar and comforting... something to embrace, and sink herself into...

She ran a feverish tongue over her lips, the impulse to lean forward and kiss Molly’s stiff nipples nearly overwhelming her. She resisted as best she could, sensing the presumption behind the act. She froze her spine stiff with a jerk and hoped she had not displeased the Goddess standing before her.

She did not move. Fear laced her nerves when she realized that her thoughts had become heresy, driven by desire when she knew the road to sweeter release began with the denial of the self.

Joy became pain, her heart crushed underneath the burden of humiliation. She began to weep openly, feeling the shame of wanting to desecrate such unearthly splendor merely to assuage her mortal lusts.

No. She couldn’t turn away from the Goddess now. She looked up, pleading forgiveness in a silent whisper, devotion flaring in her mind brighter than before. Her knees trembled as she willingly sank in the Goddess’ eyes, loosing herself in their golden radiance, feeling her soul being pulled inwards and consumed on the bonfires of redemption, replaced by divine pleasure and obedience...

The Goddess nodded her acceptance. Her hands rose ceremoniously, tracing arches in the air, the tips of her fingers coming to rest on Judy’s temples.

A delicate whisper touched Judy’s mind like a soft caress; its memory lingered only for a second in Judy’s lust-filled mind. Do you know the true meaning of Obedience?

Judy tried to speak, her lips burning with the answer to a question that was already forgotten. The Goddess had touched her! Joined with her! Body and mind!

The words that came out were not an answer... they were a statement of fact... a reflection of the truth she knew and felt. “The Goddess is Life. The Goddess is Pleasure. Her will is eternal. My obedience is eternal.”

The Goddess lowered her hands, her glorious smile washing over Judy’s body like a wave, making her moan unbridled passion.

There are others here.

“Yes,” came Judy’s excited response.

You will seduce them, starting with the one next to you. You will bring them all to me.

“Yeeeessss...”

I will teach them Obedience... as I will teach you Obedience.

Before she could even utter a prayer of thanks, Judy’s eyes obeyed an irresistible impulse to follow the Goddess’ voluptuous curves downward. Words vanished from her mind, the play of golden light on perfect skin mesmerizing her, fanning her lust as she followed the smoothness of Molly’s midriff, past the hollow of her navel and down the gentle incline towards her mons.

She stared... saw... pussy... wet... lips... begging... Goddess...

Judy was leaning down before she even knew it, capsizing, surrendering. She took deep breaths, her head filled with the scent of pure female arousal, her lips watering for a taste. Her head slipped so perfectly in the hollow between Goddess’ legs, as if she’d always belonged there...

Wet... pussy... so inviting... so perfect...

She lapped her cleft slowly, gingerly, savoring pure ecstasy... reeling as fireballs of pleasure obliterated the last remnants of her old self.

This was baptism. Rebirth. Nothing but mindless obedience would survive.

Her lips trembled as she planted butterfly kisses, her hungry mouth glistening with juices... She was ravishing her Goddess, pleasuring her... tongue-fucking her with wild abandon... teasing her clit with the tip of her nose. Time slipped away, replaced by an ocean of sweet rapture... every second spent in kneeling adoration stretching into infinity...

She mewled when Goddess seized her head with her hands and forced her snaking tongue upwards... twirling... spiraling incessantly... worshipping her epicenter of pleasure. She licked tirelessly, feeling her Goddess approaching her moment of Sacred climax, her powerful legs trembling hard, squeezing her head like a vice...

The voice of Goddess boomed loudly in her mind... Embrace your destiny! Embrace the Will of Khashagh!

Judy Penfield’s own cries of pleasure went unheard as she flicked her tongue one last time and made her Goddess cum.

The world she knew vanished in a maelstrom of bliss and fire.