The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cameron gripped her shotgun with both hands. She was comforted by its weight, its sturdiness, the cold steel against her hands. She could also feel the pressure of her various hand-guns strapped to different parts of her body, the machine gun that was attached to her chest, and, of course, the constant presence of her rocket-launcher on her back.

She was prepared.

The march was cold and quiet. Her footsteps quickly became the loudest thing in the area; once or twice she thought she heard twigs snapping, but she couldn’t see anything, and the faster she finished her recon, the sooner she could be back with the trio of girls she left behind.

It was only when she was halfway there that Cameron realised what she was heading towards, and her jog broke into an all-out run.

Cameron didn’t consider herself an overly emotional person. Perhaps it was the years she’d spent as a soldier, perhaps it was the young age that she realised she was never going to be able to follow her dream, and settle down and marry like her mother had…whatever the reason, she had become extraordinarily practical, even hardened.

When Bea had been lost, she’d been sad, but pushed it back for the sake of the mission. If Whip were to be next to disappear, she would likely react in a similar way. At home, she had a dog, and that was as close to a soul-mate as she ever expected to get.

As Cameron looked at the smoke, rising from the remains of their helicopter, it was the realisation that she was never going to see her dog again that hurt the most.

For the first time in her life, Cameron was overcome with emotion. She fell to her knees, stared at the destruction in front of her—their only hope of getting home, up in flames -and Cameron wept.

And then the musk hit.

Beatrice grinned.

More accurately, the New Queen grinned through Beatrice. Beatrice herself was overcome with euphoria—her Queen was inside her, controlling her, using her worthless body to do her bidding. Beatrice was beyond grinning—she was serving her Queen well, and that was producing an emotion more powerful than she’d ever felt before.

But the New Queen was simply grinning. It was time.

Even hit with a full force of goblin musk, Cameron was able to instinctively draw her weapons and start firing. Even while her head swam with images of pussy, tits; even while her head filled with sex scenes, seductions, raw animal fucking, Cameron had been in this situation often enough to know that taking out the goblin wouldn’t mean the end of the feelings, but it would mean living to see another battle.

Unfortunately for Cameron, Beatrice knew what Cameron knew, and was hidden before the musk even reached her.

Cameron moaned; she had to act fast. She’d been in this situation before; alone, one-on-one with a goblin. She understood their behaviour; if there was a bunch and their Queen wasn’t present, they would simply charge, attack, try to seduce her. If there was just one with no Queen, she’d hide, wait until the musk took hold, and then step forward.

But Cameron had a strong suspicion that she was facing only one goblin, and that the New Queen was controlling her.

She lay prostate on the ground, trying to ignore the voices, the images, the sensations that the musk brought…it was a real effort to keep her hands where they were and stop them from wandering, caressing, maybe just playing with her pussy a tiny bit, just to keep the edge off, what’s the harm in that?

Clenching her teeth, she tried to remain as still as possible. Beatrice was smart—probably the smartest woman that Cameron had ever met, and working in tandem with the New Queen, there was no knowing what they were capable of.

God, she couldn’t help but think, what a sexy combination. She could imagine it now—the New Queen laying on her back, the goblin that had once been Bea between her legs, that long goblin tongue going to work…

Just a few feet away, concealed behind the burned remains of the helicopter, Beatrice watched. Soon, she knew that Cameron would join her, become one of her Queen’s servants. Soon.

Fifteen minutes passed; through Beatrice’s eyes, the New Queen watched as Cameron’s efforts to remain still weakened. If she wasn’t forewarned, she may even have fallen for the girl’s complete immobility—fortunately, Beatrice was well aware of Cameron’s techniques, and she didn’t fall for it.

She’d started out completely stationary, but it hadn’t taken long for the twitches to start. Almost as if she was fighting with her own hands, as if they wanted to drift to her pussy and play. That was followed by some involuntary thrusts—both Beatrice and the New Queen had felt the full effect of the musk before, and they knew exactly what it felt like to want to get some kind of stimulation, ANY kind of stimulation.

At the 10 minute mark, Cameron gave up on subtlety and dropped the gun from her left hand. To her audience’s surprise, her hand didn’t immediately lunge for her pussy (which was almost definitely soaking by now, and desperately crying out for attention) but reached up underneath her tank top, and started caressing one of her huge boobs.

This was the point where the New Queen would have normally stepped out, but Beatrice knew what was in Cameron’s other hand. “I’d rather be dead,” she had stated before numerous battles, and patted one of her pockets. Beatrice had asked about it once, and Cameron had revealed a grenade.

“I’ll take out the pin and wait,” the large woman had said with an uncharacteristic grin. “As soon as one of those fuckers gets near me…

“Boom.”

Exactly what her Queen was going to do with that information, Beatrice didn’t know, but she was happy to sit back and let the most perfect individual she’d ever encountered control her body, and see what happened.

The New Queen waited another ten minutes before she made her move. By ducking back to her own body sporadically, she could see if Whip was going to come looking for Cameron, or if the rest of the troupe was going to wake up and come join them.

By that time, Cameron’s hand had moved from her breast down to her pussy, and she had started regularly thrusting. Beatrice’s body moved at a slow crawl, silent, and (unless Cameron stared straight at her) unlikely to be noticed. She was approaching Cameron’s feet, but it didn’t really matter—Cameron’s eyes were tightly shut, and her head was rocking from side to side in ecstasy.

The plan was simple—approach from below, get to her left hand, and throw the grenade away before it could take them out. Beatrice knew that she had to have an extremely tight grip on the explosive, else it would have gone off already. It would be tricky, but in Cameron’s distracted state she should be able to grab it and throw it before she even realised what was happening.

Cameron was lost in her own world by the time the goblin reached her hand. She’d all but forgotten about her plan, imagining being roughly tongued by the New Queen, going down on her quivering slit, Beatrice suckling on her massive boobs—would their size transfer when she got turned? She hoped so.

It wasn’t until she felt the goblin’s hand on her own that she remembered. She’d known that Beatrice would know about the grenade, so in her hand was instead a small pistol. SHe’d hoped to use the few moments of confusion to take the goblin out, but now that the moment had come, all that she could think about was how perfect the goblin’s body was, how much she wanted to suck on those small, veiny tits…

The New Queen was briefly confused to find the pistol, but when Cameron’s eyes opened, completely clouded over with lust, she used Beatrice’s face to grin once more, before Cameron grabbed her goblin head and pushed it against her mouth.

As the two made out, the gun fell to the ground, forgotten. Just to be safe, Beatrice reached in and threw the grenade away as well—the pin still in.

It would have been an odd sight, the enormous woman making out with the tiny goblin, one of Cameron’s fingers as big as Beatrice’s whole hand. Cameron reached down and was pleased to discover that Beatrice’s goblin pussy was as wet as her own, and Beatrice’s head rolled back in pleasure as the soldier started fingering her.

Beatrice started to tear Cameron’s shirt off, to get to those mammoth tits, when Cameron stopped her.

“Please,” she said, panting and covered in sweat. “Please…turn me.”

Beatrice stared into Cameron’s eyes with her own milky-whites for a few seconds, before nodding, and leaning forward to administer the kiss.

And then there were three.