The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Zoira returned to her real world slowly. She had spent a long time in the dreamtime, but wasn’t sure how much time had passed here. She still had memories of her time with her Goddess and was determined to cherish those memories for the rest of her life. She stretched and began to rise from the bed.

“Good morning, sleepy,” the by-now familiar voice of Linora purred.

Zoira smiled and allowed the catgirl to take care of her...

After her bath, Zoira went downstairs to eat breakfast. As she did, she noticed that Mistress Rochelle was spending more time looking at Her slaves than eating. She also noticed that the man Phaon was staring at her, with a somewhat sour expression on his face.

She bit her lip.

When breakfast was done, Phaon immediately headed in the direction of the library. Zoira looked at her plate and her mind was filled with thoughts. Why was Phaon looking at her with such a bitter face?

She determined herself to find out.

Zoira got up and followed Phaon into the library. Her stomach was suddenly knotted. Why did she feel so nervous? Phaon wouldn’t hurt her... or would he?

She found Phaon sitting down at a desk, reading a book.

“Phaon,” Zoira said.

Phaon looked up and frowned. “What do you want?” he said gruffly.

Zoira blushed and felt a knife stab her heart. “Did I do something to upset you?” she asked timidly.

“I like my private time to be private, and I don’t like to be bothered,” he said. “Everyone here knows that.”

“No... you were looking at me at breakfast, and you looked upset,” Zoira said. She was trembling now. Why was she so afraid?

Phaon scowled and looked down at the ground. “It’s not you,” he said.

“Then, what is it?” Zoira asked, stepping closer. “Are you afraid of me because I’m a Pelean?”

Phaon chuckled mirthily. “My kind could destroy yours without thinking twice,” he said. “Don’t you know what I am?”

“Yes,” Zoira said. “You’re a demigod. A mortal beloved by a Goddess and thus imbued with powers. But I don’t want to fight you.”

Phaon shook his head. “Mistress didn’t tell you why you’re here,” he said, and then returned to his reading.

“Wait... what do you mean? She told me about the prophecy.”

Phaon closed his book and got up. He looked positively angry. “Can’t you put two and two together?” he said, raising his voice. “Why do you think we’ve been giving you all this service free of charge? Mistress Rochelle has been looking for a replacement! And She believes you are it!”

Zoira gasped and stepped backward. She was in total shock. The Mistress of the Shelter was... was... was that why everyone was so nice to her?

Phaon walked up to Zoira until he was in her face. “I’ll have you know that I will die before I allow a Pelean to control me! I will not accept anyone but my Mistress Rochelle! You are just a no-account war relic! What would you know about how to love? You...”

“PHAON CYTHEREUS!”

It was Mistress Rochelle’s voice.

Phaon’s eyes widened, and he blushed a crimson color. Then he looked down at the floor.

“What is the meaning of this cruelty, Phaon?” Mistress Rochelle said, stepping into the library. “I am very disappointed in you.”

“Mistress, I am sorry,” Phaon said in a low voice. “But how can you consider this woman worthy of being your successor?”

“Yours is not to judge,” She replied. “Yours is to obey. Now, leave.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Phaon sighed, and left without another word. But he did glance at his Mistress once before leaving.

Zoira clutched her chest. It felt like her heart had been brutally ripped apart. She struggled not to cry.

“Please forgive him, Zoira,” Rochelle said. “He’s still very attached to my form.”

“Your form?” Zoira asked. “What was he talking about? Me... being your successor?”

“The time has come for me to explain it to you,” Rochelle said. “Come with me.”

She beckoned for Zoira to follow her, and Zoira, despite her nerves, obeyed.

Zoira and Mistress Rochelle were in Her personal room. Rochelle sat down and adjusted Her dark glasses. She appeared to be nervous about something.

“Now will You tell me, Mistress Rochelle?” Zoira said, her hair wrapping around her hips.

“Let Me tell you a story, Zoira,” Rochelle said, putting Her hands together. “It’s a story about the beginning and the end.”

“The beginning and the end... of what?”

“A long time ago, there was no death in this world. There were two life forms—the Gods and the angels. They each had responsibilities and they all lived in peace.”

“What? You mean... angels are real? I thought they were a man-made myth.”

Rochelle smiled and adjusted Her glasses. “All things are true, My dear. Angels are guiding spirits. Their purpose initially was to steer creation in the right directions. The Gods sought their guidance when they created the first mortals. However, several rules were put in place to ensure that the desires of the Gods and the angels would not conflict.”

“Rules?”

“Put simply, God and angel were not allowed to mate. And the wars began when this rule was broken. We’re not sure which God mated with which angel, but a child came from this union, and this child was filled with undeniable ambition as he grew. He desired to rule over both the divine world and the angelic world.”

Rochelle again adjusted Her glasses, and stared out the window for a moment. Then She returned Her gaze towards Zoira. “He managed to gather an army of mortals together who were tired of worshipping Gods and being guided by angels. They fought in the name of preserving their free will.”

“What was the name of this man?” Zoira asked, listening intently.

“No one remembers his name anymore,” Mistress Rochelle said. “He has had so many descendants, and as time went by, they began to fight amongst themselves for the right to call themselves leader of the free men. As time went by, the mortals stopped trying to fight the Gods and angels, and began to fight amongst themselves. Many generations later, the original purpose of the wars has been lost, and now mortals fight only to increase their territory and keep their good names.

“Nevertheless, the war took its toll on the divine beings. Angels without souls to guide often choose to fall from grace and become mortals. Even now, these fallen angels are being persecuted for attempting to bring the message of peace from the heavens. And in Mount Olympus, there is a crisis.”

Zoira remembered her dream of Athena when she first came here.

“Gods have begun to die, Zoira. We have discovered that Gods will die if they no longer have anyone to believe in them. The great Ones, the Ones that have set the foundation for a peaceful civilization, have died—Zeus, Poseidon, Apollo, even Hades. And the remaining Gods were once fighting amongst themselves for the right to rule Mount Olympus.”

“I have heard stories of this war,” Zoira mused. “But I had believed it was Athena that won this war. Her wisdom combined with Her war experience would have made Her the best One to rule.”

“It is not the same world as it once was,” Mistress Rochelle said with a sigh. “Technology has become so strong that wisdom pales in comparison to the sheer destructive power of modern weaponry. No, I am afraid that the war is over, and the winner is the embodiment of War.”

Zoira gasped as color drained from her face. “Ares.”

“Yes. Ares won the war.” Mistress Rochelle’s voice began to break, so She paused and struggled to regain Her composure. “Once He won the war, He declared Himself the Supreme God, and threw the remaining Gods out of Olympus. Since the mortals of the world had begun to worship war as the proof of their strength and endurance, Ares’ power was, and is, unparalleled.

“He even exiled the One who loved Him the most...”

The name was on Zoira’s lips, but she wouldn’t speak it.

Mistress Rochelle removed Her glasses, but kept Her eyes closed. “Once angels fall, they become mortal. Now that the underworld has no ruler, their souls are destined to become lost and directionless upon their deaths. That is why my Goddess chose me to be Her mouthpiece. But I am growing weary of this world, and of the constant battles that I can do nothing to stop.”

Zoira nodded slowly, understanding. “So... You are an angel?”

“Yes, Zoira, I am... or, I was. I feel that my time is coming very soon. My body is weary, but My mind does not wish to leave this place yet. That is why I have wished for a successor, a strong person that could take care of My loved ones as well as protect this shelter. And I believe that you are that person.”

Zoira believed that she should be shocked, but when she thought of all she had experienced since she came here, the pieces added up. The time she had spent with Athena in the dreamtime, the tenderness the slaves of the shelter had shown her, and her own conflicted feelings.

“Your other slaves won’t accept me, though,” Zoira said. “They love You... especially Phaon.”

Rochelle opened Her eyes slightly and looked out the window. Her eyes were a strange color that Zoira couldn’t place.

“There is a technique that my Goddess has shown me,” She said quietly. “I can transfer my consciousness into you, and you will know all I know. You will know how to subdue the wills of My loved ones, so they will understand My choice. You will sacrifice something of yourself in the process.”

“What will I sacrifice?” Zoira said, leaning forward.

Mistress Rochelle paused.

“Once you choose to look in My eyes, you will lose control,” She said. “Your mind and body will become a vessel for the Goddess. You will become an Eternal, a force of the Universe, and acquire the responsibilities that go with it. You will lose your old life, and essentially, you will become Her.”

Zoira paused and considered the sacrifice. She did not mind sacrificing her old life, since she did not have much of one to begin with. Her family was either gone or fighting this endless war, and she had no ties. But her belief in Athena was still strong. She could not give that up. Even if Athena was under this Goddess’s rule now, if Zoira chose to shun Her for this new Goddess, her beloved Pallas would die.

But the ones in this shelter had shown her a life that could be beautiful, one that did not have to be always about fighting. It was beautiful, and Zoira did not want to leave it behind.

‘I serve You now. I feel foolish for not realizing it before...’

Athena’s voice came to Zoira’s mind, and things became clear. Of course! Athena served this Goddess; if She had surrendered to Her, then the Goddess must be on the side of wisdom. Zoira could believe in Them both. A smile came to her face as she realized this. Of course she would succeed Rochelle, if that truly was Her wish.

It was destiny...

“Alright,” Zoira said. “I’ll go along.”

“Thank you for making the right choice, Zoira Peleon,” Mistress Rochelle said, as She turned Her eyes towards Zoira...

...oh my. Her eyes were...

Zoira fell into the dreamtime, even though she still seemed to be awake. She was in the same place, looking at Mistress Rochelle, but the coloring and tint of her surroundings betrayed the fact that she was in dreamtime.

A Goddess... The Goddess was in the room, holding Mistress Rochelle’s shoulders, kneading them.

“Thank you so much, My lovely dove,” She said.

“Did You know I would choose You?” Zoira asked quietly.

“Gods cannot force Their dominion over mortals anymore,” the Goddess said. “We must be chosen, out of your free will. That is the way it will be now.”

Zoira smiled gently, feeling more safe and secure in her choice.

“Do you wish to know My name, dove?” the Goddess asked.

Zoira put her finger to her lip. She’d come so far without being sure of Her name. She had an idea of it, but wasn’t positive. Now... would it take away from the magic to know Her name?

‘No... knowledge was and still is the key. Remember My teachings, My student.’

Zoira nodded, remembering what Athena had taught her. “Yes, please,” she said.

The Goddess straightened up and stepped from behind the chair, rising to Her full height. Olive skin, deep sea green eyes and flowing black hair. She spoke in a beautiful, honeyed voice.

“I am the One who was born of the Sea, the Muse of Eternal Creation. I am Beauty and Friendship and Sex and Love. I have many Names, but My Truest Name is still the One I know Myself as. I am Aphrodite of Cytherea.”

A warm feeling filled Zoira’s heart, unlike any she had felt in the past. Before she knew it, she was on her knees, bowing gracefully. She knew her heart belonged to Aphrodite now, even if her mind continued to worship Athena.

“I accept You, my Goddess,” Zoira whispered.

Aphrodite stroked Zoira’s hair. Her fingers were so soft and delicate and energy flowed from them, healing Zoira deep down inside. She felt her own energies shift and redirect, and a feeling of peace radiated from her.

Nevertheless...

“What happens to Rochelle now?” Zoira asked.

Aphrodite smiled. “Watch carefully, My lovely dove,” She said. Kneeling at Rochelle’s chair, She caressed the hand of Her former mouthpiece.

Rochelle’s eyes sleepily opened. Her irises were... gold...

“It is time, My star,” Aphrodite said.

Rochelle smiled. “At last,” she whispered, her voice weak but filled with joy.

Aphrodite took Rochelle in Her arms, and kissed the woman on the mouth. A deep, passionate kiss. And then, an amazing thing happened. Rochelle’s skin began to glow faintly, and her body rejuvenated before Zoira’s eyes. Her face, which had shown maturity, had become the face of a young girl. Her hair began to grow and curl.

She then placed the newly young Rochelle back on her seat. Zoira noticed that her eyes were now green.

“What happened to her?” Zoira asked.

“I have taken Rochelle’s life,” Aphrodite said. “What she knew as her life... is now in My body. Rochelle’s wish was to live in a world free of war. She could never do so as long as she had her memories of the devastation of war. And the poor dear is not a fighter. She never was and never will be.”

“So... her memories are gone?”

“The heart never forgets, My lovely dove. She’ll always remember the love she holds for all of her slaves. But she won’t remember your names, or the times you shared. I will take her to My home now, and she shall make a new start, as one of my consorts. She will know only love.”

“And what about who she was?” Zoira asked delicately. “Does that just disappear?”

Aphrodite smiled delicately and walked towards Zoira.

Zoira’s heart began to beat wildly, and her body was furious with lust. The closer Aphrodite got, the more clouded Zoira’s mind was. She knew the power Aphrodite had to inspire passionate feelings, but never felt it in person. And when the Goddess gathered her in Her arms, Zoira thought she would swoon. Her skin was on fire, and the liquid heat between her legs began to flow freely.

“Remember this Kiss,” Aphrodite whispered... and then Her mouth was on hers.

Helplessly, Zoira returned the passion, with all the strength her mortal heart could muster...

...oh, my...

Rochelle’s slaves were waiting outside Her room. They had all felt it, a strange feeling that they couldn’t describe. They were all crying quietly, except for Phaon.

“I didn’t think it would happen this soon,” Xiomara sighed.

“I miss Her already,” Freia said, wiping her tears.

“Zoira,” Linora mewled, her cat eyes large with concern.

Phaon just stared at the door, a powerless expression on his face.

The door opened...

“Mistress?” everyone asked.

It was Zoira who walked through the threshold. But she looked different. Her hair was much longer, and she was nude, her hair covering her lightly around the waist. Also, her face had a serene quality, her eyes were partially closed and there was a radiance around her that all of Rochelle’s slaves caught.

“Zoira?” Linora asked breathlessly.

“Where’s Mistress Rochelle?” asked Euphrosyne.

“I am Rochelle,” Zoira said, in a soft melodious voice that sounded like her, but not quite. “And I am Zoira. I am both of them, and I am neither. We are One.”

She then smiled, and opened her eyes fully.

They were Gold.

“Goddess...” Freia whispered in awe.

The slaves fell to their knees as they realized their position in relation to the Woman who stood before them.

“I am the One who will protect this shelter with the best of Her abilities,” Zoira said, looking over all of Her loved ones. “I am the Mistress of the Crocus Flower Shelter, and I Love all of you...”

Her eyes settled on Phaon.

“My dear Phaon,” She whispered. “It has been so long since I have spoken to you.”

Phaon’s skin turned red, and he looked up. He gazed into his Mistress’s eyes and shivered.

“A...Aphrodite...” he said. “You’ve returned...”

“I am so sorry to have worried you so,” She whispered. “Come to me...”

Phaon rose from his knees and, tears flowing from his eyes, walked to his Goddess and Lover. His heart began to ache as he was for the first time in a long while feeling it beat with love.

“Zoira,” he sighed. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Hush, My sweetest love,” the Woman whispered. “She had already forgiven you from the start. Zoira loves you... as does Rochelle... as do I.”

“My Love...” Phaon whispered. And then he felt Her hips push over him. A wave of motion from Her, and they were making love, in front of his sisters and fellow slaves. It felt so good and so right to him as the pleasure built up.

Linora, Freia, Euphrosyne and Xiomara watched the two make love, their own passions rising and flowing as they felt the pleasure of their Goddess right along with Her. Their minds soared to the heavens as they left their sorrows and sadness behind, and all were in the bliss of eternal reunion.

The Goddess Aphrodite had returned, and She would never again abandon Her creations.