The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive





All characters, situations, and locations are mostly fictional.

Not to be archived, reposted, nor redistributed by any means.

Archived on the Erotic Mind Control web site by permission from the author.

Written over a period of time in 1998 by . Comments and suggestions welcomed.


Autumn Spell of the Vampire

by BioParadox

‘Snap,’ you glance into the woods at the side of the path. You try not to turn your head but your reflexes make your eyes jump toward the sound. That one was close, your pace unconsciously quickens. The pounding of your heart is defining to your ears. Frightened, you try to quiet the thumping of your pulse, as if the silence will hide you from danger. ‘Snick’ that was definitely behind you. A quick look, just one, but your neck is paralyzed with fear and you can not turn to see. But you know something is there by the prickling of the hair on the back of your neck. Almost at a run now, you look down the path and can just make out the road ahead. Patches of shadow blend the side walk into the night. The moon gives little comforting glow for the next two hundred yards. You hesitate before plunging on through the inky blackness before you. What possessed you to take this way back home. At night here in these woods, what were you thinking.

The papers have been printing the stories for weeks, “Strange Sightings Near Campus.” And how about those coeds in the quad dorm who quit all of their classes and simply vanished without a trace. Strange things have been happening around town but foolishly, you choose to come home by this route. Your train of thought is immediately broken as you see the darkness shift in front of you. You stop dead in your tracks. There before you, melding with the night, the darkness moves. Frozen, you don’t even breathe. As your vision closes in on the form, two eyes catch and reflect the moonlight and shine. They glow with a fiery light like the bowels of hell. The reaction should be fight or flight but the most you can do is stand paralyzed, a small whimper crossing your lips. Time stops, your world is only this moment, you are stuck in the present.

Pound, Pound, the blood courses through you, hot with adrenaline, making swishing sounds in your ears. But nothing happens, the life that you had given up as a forfeiture continues inside of you. The beast just watches. Standing ten feet away, its eyes slowly surveying your form. Then, as quickly as it came, it turns, steps in to the trees vanishing without a sound. For a moment you pause, standing like prey waiting for the attack. Then the panic that was held for so long takes hold. Like coiled springs your legs explode in to a furious run. Shoes slapping the path, echoing through the woods, you run. Every nerve in your body is tingling as the tunnel of trees slowly gives way to street lights and the pavement of the side walk. Without pausing you burst forth from the trail, tears welling up in your eyes, and run toward home.

Slam, Click, Home. Moving from window to window you check the latches and close the blinds. Still shaking, you raise your hands to your eyes watching them quiver. Standing in the foyer your breath has returned and the nightmare begins to seem distant. Your body still can not shake the chill that has set into your very marrow. Deciding on the only way to take the cold from your bones, you head straight for the bath and draw a steaming tub of water.

Slipping gently into the steaming water, you lay back and relax. The bubbles are fizzing as you close your eyes and try to forget the incident in the woods. That beast by the road was not like any wolf that you had heard of. The color of its coat seemed to steal the light from even the darkness around it. And the eyes they were not like any normal animal’s eyes. You shudder thinking how lucky you were to make it home. You slide lower in the warm water blowing the bubbles away from in front of your lips. Closing your eyes you gently drift away.

A dream slowly takes your mind on a strange journey. You find yourself in the woods, a long dark path leads up and over a rise. Dark gray clouds race across the autumn sky. The night wind whispers its eerie music in to your ear. As you crest the knoll you can see a large mansion, magnificent in its form. Gothic style windows shine yellow from the flickering candles within. Fear. You sense a foreboding. Deep with in you a little voice cries for you to turn, run, do not look back, just flee. You hesitate. The light from the windows draws you like a moth to a flame. Yes, you must go, there is the mansion, you must go. You begin to walk toward the house even before you have made up your mind.

“No!” your own voice awakens you from the dream. Sitting up violently as the echo bounces around the bath room, water splashes over the tub and across the tiled floor. Numb, you sit shaking in the slowly cooling water. As you wait in the tub you have a strange feeling as if a cobweb is slowly being pulled from around your body. “Brrr,” you stand and towel off your body, not waiting to put on your night gown, you move straight to the bed, huddled under the blankets you fall quickly to sleep.

Unseen by your sleeping form a, a misty shadow slowly crosses along the bathroom wall mixing with the night. It moves out to the bedroom, flows through your closet and along the baseboards. It mixes with the shadow of a cloud on the wall and is gone through the glass in the window.

A little way off, eyes open in the darkness. A hand reaches out and lifts a glass of wine to lips. “This one will take some time.” The melodic voice stands out in to the somber night air, but there is no one but him at the old gothic mansion to hear it. The night continues without pause.

You awaken late in the day, the sun shines on your bed and the covers have become much too warm. Kicking them to the end of the bed you stretch and decide that this, in fact, is going to be a great day. The birds sing for you in the trees outside of your window. The autumn air has a wonderful crispness and there is just a hint of burning leaves in the air. This is a wonderful autumn Saturday to be alive.

After a quick breakfast, you lace up your hiking boots and decide to take a closer look at that area along the path. Wandering along the trail, you can find no sign that there had ever been a disturbance here. You are not even sure exactly were the incident occurred. Finding a small trail, you begin a lazy wander through the woods. The sun shining through the thin flannel on you body feels wonderful. Before you have traveled far, you have completely lost track of why you had come out on this beautiful day. Dragging your hands over the tall grass you comb the country side looking for you know not what. Cresting over a small rise you look down on a glade that looks frighteningly familiar. There at the bottom of the hill is a rustic looking structure.

The castle-like mansion is beautiful. High walls are divided by huge glass windows, yellowed with time. The dark brown masonry work is stunning even if it has not been well maintained for some time. You can see that restoration is underway along the west building face. Sconces and gargoyles stand silent watch from their perches. Some have been removed and sit under sheets on the ground around the scaffolding. Your heart skips a beat as you look out across the field and see two huge wolf-like dogs sitting on the porch of the mansion. They have not seen you and you are far upwind, but you relive the chill from the previous night. One of them must be the creature that met you last evening. But your vision does not quite fit with that in your mind’s eye. Looking into the late afternoon sky you turn tail and head for home.

Feeling foolish, laughing at your folly, you continue home as the sun begins to set. Dogs, of course they were dogs what else would they have been? You skip along the sidewalk and turn up the drive for home. The last of the daylight disappears from the sky as you toss your boots in to the front closet. Landing on the sofa you flick on the television and pick up the phone. The night has chilled with the October air, you grab the blanket and wrap it about you while calling your boyfriend. No answer. Not even the answering machine picks up. Oh well you think, you will just stay in tonight, his loss. Nestling down into the pillows you surf the channels looking for some distraction. The boring TV shows all drain you further. Turning down the sound you let sleep take you. Somewhere in the twilight a wolf howls.

Fitful, your sleep is filled with visions of unknown meaning, colors, shapes, memories long forgotten. You toss and turn on the sofa, the night grows quiet. The moon hides in and out of the clouds, and their shadows move along the ground. One shadow in particular moves with intent, with purpose, it moves through the forest, along the trail and between the glow of the street lamps. Lying on the cushions, deep in sleep, you feel it coming. Fear. Terror. But you are helpless in your slumber. It has made its first move.

A dream takes you, forcefully and fully. Such colors and visions you have never seen in your mind. Burning your thoughts with intensity the shapes begin to coalesce. Then they slowly fade and are gone. You are floating. Floating in an endless sea, not of water, but of space. There is no up, no down. You are lost here in this abyss. There is no sensation. You can feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing. You yearn for something, anything, any sensation to fix on, but there is nothing. Finally through the void your mind begins to hear noises just out of range. Was that a voice? Then nothing. You listen carefully. You want to hear, you must hear it. A melodic tone? You float in the soft musical sounds, barely audible. Are those words, you strain to hear. You open yourself up to receive anything that is offered. And slowly it comes. Pouring foreign thoughts into your unconscious you are helpless to resist.

Deep into your open mind thoughts trickle. “Yes. Yes. I understand.” Your own voice sounds hollow and far away. Gently you are lifted out of your sleep, you awaken. Not a thought remains from your dream, you simply stand and begin getting ready for your new date. Showering quickly you then scramble to find an outfit that you feel will be appropriate. The black dress with the high pumps will do fine. Teasing your hair into the shape that you desire you adjust the fit of your dress over your breasts and grabbing your coat run out the door.

The cool night air buffets you as you move along the streets to the restaurant. At the door the Maître’ de escorts you to your table without a single word. You take a seat in the high-backed leather chair and begin to think about this wonderful man who has invited you to dinner. As the waiter pours your aperitif you concentrate but can not remember that much about your date. He is intelligent but you can not remember his conversation. He is handsome, but you struggle to envision what he looks like. His voice, his voice is beautiful, you could listen to his words all night you could...

“Good evening, Michelle.” The voice drifts to you from behind your chair.

You attempt to rise but he motions with his hand that you should remain seated, you pause and sit back down. The first thing that you notice is the beautiful black cape slung over his shoulders, the midnight moon seems to be held within its fibers. His suit jacket is a dark charcoal accented only by his scarlet patterned neck tie. Your eyes roam over his body. His face is handsome, dark eyes gleam from above his high cheek bones. His lips, full and moist shine from the candle light during his speech. You realize that he is asking you a question.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you say, “what did you just ask?”

“I was worried that I had kept you waiting long,” he replies.

“No, I have not been here long, the Maître’ de had just left when you arrived, um...?” You struggle with a thought but can’t seem to grasp it.

A voice drifts to you from deep inside your confused mind, “You can call me Valdorn, Kurt Valdorn.”

Valdorn swirls his cloak from his shoulders in what would have to have been a practiced movement, and the Maître’ de is immediately by his side to take the mantle from him. Seating himself he glances around the table, surveying the placements. The waiter appears promptly with a dark bottle from the deepest of the restaurant’s reserves, momentarily showing the label to your host, then opening the cork with a well-practiced motion, ‘pop’. The dark fluid flows from the bottle, deep and pure.

The glass is raised, swirled and the blood red mixture flows around the glass to the lip then slowly bleeds down the sides to pool at the stem. Valdorn closes his eyes and inhales the vapors deeply. Taking a single sip and holding it for a moment before finishing the taste. He nods to the waiter and the wine begins to flow, filling your glass.

Dinner is served without any input, the dishes begin to align upon the table. All through dinner he asks you about your day, your hobbies and your interests. His wit shows through with his dry humor, joking about some of the subjects discussed. You feel completely at ease, laughing at his humorous anecdotes, stories from his past, that seem to parallel your own. You are not sure if it the wine or the candle light playing tricks on your vision but you have the sensation of gentle light headedness. You feel wonderful, you never want this evening to end.

The candle flickers in his eyes...momentarily you fall in to them, a deep well flickering with light.

“Good girl, dance with me.”

You slowly stand, raising your hand to him. He blinks his eyes breaking the spell, and escorts you on to the floor. Holding you firmly against him, he leads you through steps that you have never known. Your feet falling just where they need to be, soon you forget that you are moving them at all. Around and around you move. The other patrons watch with obvious delight as the two of you gracefully move across the floor.

For the second time in a day the world seems to stand still. Unlike last evening this is a dream of immense pleasure. Your bodies move as one, you can feel his muscles moving against you under his clothes. A gentle pressure here, a slight rubbing there as your dancing continues. You glance up at his face, he gives you a knowing smile as you place your head against him. Your blood races.

Finishing the dance he bows ever so slightly and thanks you for your wonderful performance on the dance floor. Taking your hand he leads you back to the table. Your heart feels heavy as you see him motion for your coats, you now know that the night will soon end. Arm in arm you wander through the tables toward the entrance. As you are leaving the he nods to the Maître’ de who quickly jots down a note to remind himself to bill your hosts account.

Stepping out in to the night even the jacket around you can’t stop the biting chill in the air. Seeing your body shiver he wraps his cloak about you as he walks you down the empty streets toward home.

The conversation wanes as you approach the walkway to your door, he seems suddenly distracted. He scans the area and then turns back to you. Tilting his head to one side he leans closer to you, stretching up to meet his lips you rise up on your toes. His arms close around you wrapping you tighter into his cloak. Closing your eyes, you hold your breath, waiting for your lips to meet. The squeal of tires turning in to the next driveway breaks the scene as the high beams sweep across the lawn and blind the two of you. He pulls his head back sharply, turning from you for a moment. You watch his reaction, puzzled, as your neighbor waves saying “Hi, Michelle” before running in to his house. The darkness returns but you feel that the moment has been lost.

Taking your hands in his he begins to say good night. Not wanting this evening to end on that sour note you quickly lean in and kiss his lips before he can pull away.

“I had a wonderful time,” you say.

He smiles down at you, “you will dream of me,” Valdorn says. “No, I am serious,” his eyes hold your own penetrating you. You Will, dream of me.”

“...Yes...” standing there for a moment, your eye lids flutter rapidly then you smile and turn, walking up to the door. Turning back to thank him again, “I really enjoyed...,” but he is gone.

Slipping into the shadows Valdorn moves with silent speed. As the forest draws in around him he slows to a fast paced walk. The night did not go well, not well at all. He had let his interest in you supersede his judgment. He will never let that happen again. The next move will be far more calculated. He had been a fool to rush this. You would be his, but he needn’t hurry, he had all the time in the world.

Suddenly stopping, he raises his nose to the breeze sniffing the air. Yes, the unmistakable fragrance of perfume hangs just beyond the human sense but well within his perception. Undressing so as to not soil his new suit, quickly he removes his cloak laying his clothes silently upon the black material.

Standing quietly for a moment, he breathes deeply and his body begins to transform, human slowly becoming canine. Within moments his form has completely changed. Stretching, his powerful new muscles ripple under his black coat of fur. Peeling back his lips in a wide snarl he admires the flash of sharp teeth, wet with saliva. Thinking to himself that he always did prefer this form to that of a bat. Silly little winged mouse. Bounding over a log Valdorn moves to stand near the path and waits. Prey. He would feed tonight after all.

The lone figure winds her way around the bend in the trail. Humming a simple show-tune to herself, she is unaware of the beast standing beside the tree lined walkway, the low hanging branches hiding it from view. She continues to within inches of its snout before hearing the low guttural growl deep within its throat. Without thinking her body jumps straight up but has then used its burst of strength for a useless gesture and is not prepared for the snap of the jaws on her pant leg. The teeth rasping across her thigh, she pulls free and without a single thought just tries to run.

Many centuries before the beast’s mother had scolded him for playing with his food. But a few hundred years of experience with humans had taught the beast to enjoy toying with its food. Make them release the adrenaline causing a pronounced increase in heart rate and blood pressure. He could almost smell the benzenoid hormone emanating from this one. He steps out of the trees and lazily gives chase. Now frantic she stumbles off the path and deeper into the woods. Easily out pacing the frightened girl the beast moves with no urgency, watching with delight as she trips, falling into a patch of brambles, the thorns growing winter sharp from the many days of dry cold weather. From a high ground advantage the wolf could see that the thorns have dug long, deep scratches into the young woman’s face and hands. Pieces of broken branches cling to her clothing as she runs, the thorns deeply embedded in the material.

Arms waving blindly as she runs, in an attempt not to go face first straight in to a tree. Her precautions are useless as she reaches a small unseen ravine, dug into the slope by decades of heavy rains. Her body hangs for an instant in the air, her feet flailing comically in the air before falling with a crunch to the rocks below. Her breath is knocked completely from her lungs. The wolf growls from its perch over the fallen woman. The last of her fight being stripped from her body as she watches the creature shape changing into a human figure. Her eye’s wild with fear, she gives no resistance as Valdorn hauls her up by the hair. Tilting her head to one side, driving his teeth deep through her sterno-mastoid and into the bifurcation of her carotid artery with a single thrust. The blood spurting with such intensity as her terrified heart pumps on. Hot 100 degree saline blood courses through his teeth as little squirts escape to wet his lips and tongue.

He tastes the fluid flowing from her, like a connoisseur he inhales the scent. Without a doubt, Valdorn thinks, she is blood type O. He can feel the alkaline reaction on his tongue, but without the carbohydrate undercurrents of the other blood types. Once, twice, she twitches before the light fades from her vision forever. The Vampire tosses the used corpse away like so many empty beverage cans wiping his lips against the back on his hand he walks for home, feeling just a little better. Once again the night crawls on.

Stepping inside your front door and leaning against the frame, you smile thinking of your wonderful evening. Maybe you should have invited Kurt in, just for a drink? The next time you say to yourself. You will just have to give him a call next weekend stop wondering if you have his number. No, you are sure that you have never called him. Scanning the fog that enshrouds your mind you struggle to find information about your date. The harder that you struggle the denser the fog becomes. Pressing and pressing you trip the hidden hypnotic suggestion for sleep, tired, very tired. Sluggishly you walk upstairs for bed. Stripping slowly, you toss your clothes on to the comforter, some of them falling to the floor. You don’t even bother to pick them up before slipping under the covers. So tired so very, very tired. You sleep.

The following week your dreams become more and more vivid. Dreaming nightly of the mansion, of Valdorn. Every night your dreams continue almost as a book marked novel. You dream of meeting Valdorn, being held by him, then kissing him tenderly. The mornings follow were you awaken with such desire in your blood. This evening was no different, woken early by the erotic dream you glance at the clock, 11:23 p.m. You lay quietly under the covers thinking about your unconscious romance that seem to be consuming your sleep. Before you are even aware, you have moved your hands up to your breasts, touching the soft flesh and slowly circling your fingers around hardening nipples. Opening your lips you exhale the breath that you were unaware you were holding. Starring up at the ceiling you move your fingers over your body and down between your slowly spreading legs. Desire such as this seemed foreign to you, but as you continue to caress yourself you stop worrying and just let it happen.

Minutes pass slowly while you explore your body, feeling the pleasure building up inside of you. Your breath begins to puff in short bursts as you feel your legs clenching, your fingers speeding up in their movements. Just as you feel your body preparing for climax and you feel the release swell in your throat, the phone sitting on the night stand rings its disruption in to the air. Startled you open your eyes quickly and grab the receiver before the second ring, “Hello..?” There is a slight pause on the other end, then the silence is filled with sounds just beyond the range understanding, like echoes across water.

The eerie noise is broken by a familiar voice, “Michelle, I have waited many, many years to find one such as you. Come to me now. You will come to me. Your new life awaits with me. You will obey.”

Without any further words your body follows the commands. Setting the receiver back into its cradle you sit up, folding back the comforter, and slide your naked body out from under the covers. Driven by the hypnotic power of Valdorn’s voice, you stand reaching for your coat where it lay at the end of bed. Donning it as your only article of clothing, you walk softly out to the front porch. A black carriage awaits. A jet black coach drawn by four magnificent steeds waits silently at the edge of the road. Glistening in the cool night air, the breath of the horses billow like steam kettles as they stomp their feet in anticipation. Without hesitation you walk toward the carriage, opening the door and climbing inside. The moment you are seated, the unseen coachman’s whip snaps and you are moving slowly down the lane. Your ride takes you down through the streets and into the foothills surrounding the city.

Coach and rider come to rest near the front porch walkway of the mansion. Sitting as sentries beside the stair as two large wolves. Exiting the cab you climb the stone steps between the two black canines. They glance at you but let you pass without incident. The mammoth front doors loom above you. On silent hinges the doors move effortlessly before your outstretched hand. The interior of the foyer is dark but, without pause, you step in to this unfamiliar place and turn to walk through an arched entry into the Great room. The large open chamber is lit only by five tall candles arranged at the points of a circle enclosed star. The symbol is inscribed with lines of a fine white powder on the floor. You open your coat and trail it from your arms, dropping it thoughtlessly behind you as you pass through the archway and walk into the room. Stepping with assured strides you move to stand in the center of the pentagram. You lower your hands to your sides and wait.

From off to your right, somewhere out of the field of light the familiar voice speaks softly to you.

“I am so glad that you decided to except my invitation,” Valdorn laughs to himself. “You are even more lovely in this light, my dear,” he says standing and moving into the range of the candle light.

Carefully stepping over the chalk lines he comes to stand inches from your still form. His hand moves over your body slowly teasing your nerve endings with his light touch.

“I have waited along time to find another to share my world. I have recently found that I desire companionship, not just in the ways of the flesh, but in my life.” His hand grazes across your breasts. “The realm that I live is not well known to the simpleton humans that share my world. Throughout history glimpses of my being have been the subject of legend and fable, but there is so much that is not for the human mind to comprehend.” Down over your nipples and across your stomach his finger tips roam. “My search has ended. I have chosen you to share my world with me and my kind,” fingers moving along your hips and over your mound. “There will be a slight change in your plans, however, because you must be brought in the fold and to do that requires that you give me your very essence.”

Valdorn’s other hand closes around your breast while he continues to move his hand between your legs. You simply stand where you are, accepting the pleasure of his touch, deep under his trance. He kneels over the white dust lines and kisses your breast. Your lips part, allowing a moan to leave your mouth, as his tongue touches your aroused nipple. Responding to his skillful caresses your breath becomes more labored and the blood pumps harder through your veins. His finger slides between your legs parting your lips, feeling the wetness within. Slowly he runs a finger over your labia, teasingly wetting them with his moist finger tip. Then Valdorn runs the tip of his finger over your clitoris arousing it, causing it to harden with blood. A gasp passes from your mouth as you feel his soft tongue touching your wet clitoris.

Circling and kissing his tongue glides over your pussy. Your hips move rhythmically with his motions, swaying against his face. Incredible waves of pleasure coarse through your body as his tongue continually caresses your sex. The orgasm that eluded you earlier begins to build inside of you. You tense, all of your muscles becoming taut and shaking as the orgasm cascades through your chest, stomach and down through your pussy. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back moaning and swaying with the waves as they wash over your body. Valdorn immediately stands and without warning drives his teeth deep into your arteries.

Your moan is cut short as the teeth sink through your neck and pierce your larynx. The gurgle of blood in your throat as it aspirates into your lungs is the only sound that comes out now

Valdorn quickly leans his head back. Slamming his own jaws shut, he bites through the tip of his own tongue. Holding the back of your head he kisses your lips and his blood flows into your mouth. Sputtering, the blood bubbles from the holes in your neck, pink and frothy. The lights gradually dim as your eyes glaze over from hypoxia. Valdorn holds your body to his own as you slowly slump to the floor.

Valdorn lays your body gently in the center of the pentagram. He is tingling from the short taste of blood that he sampled from you, hot, salty, filled with your arousal hormones. Positioning you quickly he steps back out of the chalk lines and begins his incantation. The words flow from somewhere deep within his being. Noises that where never meant to be uttered by the human mouth flow effortlessly from him. A chorus of demons seems to fill the air around the room as the spell continues...