The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Cindy was leafing through the book once more, when she heard the distinctive metallic sound of the building lights being shut off. She looked at her watch. Sure enough, it was two-thirty a.m., exactly. Her electric lantern illuminated a woodcut figure on the page before her.

One corner of her mouth pulled itself up into a smirk as she rose from the stool she had been sitting on. Crossing the room to the metal door at its entrance, she slid the small bar lock into place. The door had been repeatedly painted white, but the latest coating was starting to flake. Cindy peered out the small window, into the stairwell, and then placed her makeshift curtain into it. She tucked in the corners, to ensure that no light spilled out onto the stairs.

Turning, she surveyed the room. It was low-ceilinged, and large. The exact dimensions were hidden by the rows and rows of industrial bookshelves, but Cindy knew them well. She had been planning this for almost a year, and had taken the job at the library solely to get access to these subterranean rooms. She knew every inch in here.

The books upon the metal shelves had all collected a thin grey blur of dust, broken here and there where some SCU student on a particular quest had come poking around in hopes of finding a particularly obscure work. They were usually rewarded in their search, only to realize that the book they had found was useless to them. This basement held only obsolete texts, by authors long since correctly consigned to the scrap heap of history. The library couldn’t throw them out, so they put them here, to quietly moulder, a room being filled by library science pack rats.

Cindy walked through the darkened stacks, back to the far corner where she had made her preparations. The exposed ceiling pipes, flaking with white paint, carried the soft echoes of the building’s settling.

The flickering of candles greeted Cindy as she walked around the last tall shelf, to the area she had so carefully prepared. There were five of them; squat, thick things, that gave off a peculiar odor as they burned. Thin columns of black smoke rose from them, curling through the still air.

The candles sat at each point of a pentagram, drawn on the cement floor in thick, yellowish chalk. A meandering double line of the same chalk ran around the pentagram, encompassing also a small trolley filled with books.

Cindy put her lantern back down on the lectern. She ran her fingers down the thick parchment leaves of the book, finding the red satin bookmark, and flipped to the beginning of the ritual. Next to the book was an old locket, gold with the silhouette of a woman on it, and a small stack of Auto-CAD drawings.

Her smile faded, and she shivered. Among its other qualities, this third basement of Rowley Library was always cold. Cindy had worn a thick fuzzy sweater and black jeans, but it was still just cold enough to leave her uncomfortable.

She realized that she was procrastinating. She rolled her head back, then forward, and began to read.

Eighteen minutes later, Cindy was almost finished, and beginning to feel foolish. Nothing had happened. Of course, even with all of her research, she hadn’t known what to expect, but surely something was to have occurred by now. Yet the smoke from the candles rose curling but unwavering to the ceiling.

Still, she didn’t allow her mind to wander to speculation. She had not mispronounced anything yet, and there was only one page to go.

“... iram cane dea Baali Balphagor, pestiferum quae innumerabiles dolores Hecubae posuit, multas autem robustas animas ad infernum antemisit... Instansio!”

There was a great groan beind Cindy as she finished, her arms outstretched, and she whirled her head around, worrying that her protective circle had somehow been circumvented. But she could see nothing. Perhaps one of the pipes. Returning her gaze to the pentagram, she dropped her hands to the podium. Nothing.

Only... there was a black spot, in the center of the pentagram, where there had been none before. Cindy stepped around the lectern, to the edge of the chalk border. She squinted at it, and it... pulsed. Glistened.

Triumph rose up within Cindy, and she almost cried aloud. Scurrying back behind the lectern, she hurredly flipped through the book. Then, holding the locket aloft, she addressed the pentagram.

“Balphagor! Make yourself known to me! Assume form, that I may command you!”

Nothing happened.

Cindy’s smile turned wicked. “Okay, if that’s how you want it... Balphagor wrackthuus!”

The result was immediate. The black dot exploded into viscous life, swelling in an instant into a large black mass, heaving and seething, and emitting an ear-splitting squeal.

“Silence!” Cindy’s left hand, clutching the pendant tightly, relented.

The noise stopped immediately, and the oily mass settled into a roughly hemispherical blob.

“Now, Balphagor, I don’t want to talk to a lump. I know it’s been a while, but I command you to take a shape that I can more easily hold discourse with.”

Ripples ran across the surface of the blob.

“Do it, Balphagor, or I will wrack you again.”

With a shudder, the blob slowly slid upwards, thinning, until it was a cylinder about seven feet tall. Then it split at the base, taking on the shape of legs, and two arms rose from the sides. A mouth opened near the top, and two red eyes rose to the surface like they had bobbed to the top of a black pool.

“Whoooo.... daresssss....”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Balphagor. You can call me Mistress. I have some tasks for you, and the quicker you decide to be pleasant, the less pain this will involve.”

The eyes focused on Cindy.

“CUNT! I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL! SHIT-SPAWNED BITCH, I-ARRRRRRGGHGH!”

Cindy watched the humanoid figure writhe, then again slowly loosened her grip on the pendant.

“You will be nice, Balphagor.”

The figure righted itself, and looked again at Cindy. This time, it remained quiet.

“Good. Now, Balphagor, let’s do get to know each other. Of course, I know all about you. I know your place in the infernal choir, for instance—the bottom.”

The figure hissed, but softly.

“And I know the last time you were up here. 1694. Isn’t that right?”

The demon looked at her, sullenly, and didn’t reply.

Cindy’s voiced dropped, and she looked at the black figure with tightening eyes. “Answer me.”

With the sound of knife on stone, it replied. “Yes.”

Cindy’s expression didn’t waver. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Then, like a switched-on light, she smiled again. “Good! Now Balphagor, I know you’ve been trapped in Hell for three hundred years. But you must learn to be polite. Our relationship promises to be quite beneficial for you too, you know. Let me demonstrate. Why don’t you ask any questions that might be eating at you?”

“How did you call me?”

“The usual way, obviously. I mean, look around.”

“But no one has trafficked with my kind for a century or more.”

“Books are marvelous things, Balphy. What else?”

“What is it that you want of me?”

“Oh, many things. But I’ll tell you about them as we go along. I plan to see a lot of you. Don’t you like your time out of Hell?”

A pause. “I do... Mistress.”

“Good. Now then, are you ready for your first task?”

“I am... Mistress.”

“Excellent. Behind you is a small cart, on which are 74 books. You are to read them all.”

“Read... books? This is not the task of a Lord of Hell!”

“Balphy, you are hardly a Lord of Hell. And, these books have knowledge that I want you to have mastered when I summon you again. So you will take them with you, and you will read them. I command this. If you like, I can inscribe it...”

“No! Mistress, that will not be necessary. I will read these books.”

“Yes, you will. And I think you shall profit thereby. I will summon you again, next week, at this time. I trust you will have mastered the knowledge by then?”

“I shall try, Mistress.”

“Excellent. Then, I have something for you.” Cindy withdrew a small vial, from within the lectern. “Virgin’s blood.” She threw the glass at Balphagor.

The demon caught it in its primitive hand, and crushed the glass flask, absorbing it and its contents. A ripple ran across its skin, and as it passed, the creature appeared smoother, more human.

“Did you like that, Balphy?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good. Then take the books, and return to Hell. I shall call upon you in one week.” The threatening look returned to Cindy’s eyes. “Do not fail me, Balphagor.”

“I hear and obey, Mistress.”

As Cindy concluded the invocation, a thick black haze began to coalesce in the pentagram. Within seconds, it had taken on the shape of a man.

“I say, Balphagor, your skills at incarnating yourself seem much improved,” Cindy noted approvingly.

Inside the pentagram stood a nude Adonis, each hair defined, smooth of skin, and remarkably well-endowed. The skin of this man, however, was black as coal, and reflected the light harshly, like plastic. The figure smiled, eyes glowing red, and replied,

“Thank you, my Mistress.”

Cindy smiled back. Her brown hair was up in a knot on the back of her head, and she had worn the same fuzzy wine-colored sweater. The room was also the same, save that an upholstered chair had been brought in, and faced the pentagram.

“Have you read the texts?”

“I have, my Mistress.” Turning, the figure waved a hand, and a mist emerged from it to settle on the empty rack, solidifying into the books that Cindy had placed there a week ago.

“And did you find them useful?”

“Oh, most definitely, my Mistress. This ‘psychology’ is a wonderful field. I have found my studies, enforced as they were, most profitable.”

“Excellent.”

“My Mistress, what am I to do now?”

“I say, Balphy, I do like your attitude change. I shall tell you what you are to do. Did you study all the texts on hypnosis?”

“I did, my Mistress.”

“And do you feel confident that you can hypnotize someone?”

“I do, my Mistress, although only if they were willing or unsuspecting that I were doing so.” The red eyes swung from side to side. “Do you have someone you wish me to hypnotize?”

“I do. I want you to hypnotize Me.”

A moment passed, before Balphagor spoke.

“Of course, my Mistress.”

“Listen now, Balphagor. What follows is a command, and if you were to disobey this command, you will be placed in wrack by the invocation I have used to summon you.

“Balphagor, you are to hypnotize me. You will do so with one goal. To leave me implanted with three code phrases, each of which will sink me irresistably into hypnotic trance. You are to do nothing else, nothing, and once you have firmly implanted these phrases, you are to rouse me from hypnosis.

“Further, you are to never say any of these phrases unless I specifically order you to. Do you understand?”

“I believe so, my Mistress.”

Cindy stared into Balphagor’s red eyes, and spoke with a hard voice.

“Understand, Balphagor, I am under no illusions as to what sort of creature you are. You are to do nothing, say nothing, that is not strictly necessary to implant the code phrases in my mind. You are to ask me nothing. I have bound your obedience to this into the summoning.”

“I understand, my Mistress.”

“You had better, or you will spend the next three hundred years in wrack. Ah—also, we have only a limited time for you to do this. You are to rouse me from hypnosis either at the completion of your task, or when this clock turns to five, whichever is sooner. Do you have any questions?”

“What should the phrases be, my Mistress?”

“You choose, Balphagor. They must be something that no one else, in this world or any other, would say to me.”

“I understand, my Mistress.”

Cindy stepped around the podium. She and Balphagor looked at each other, as she passed the pentacle, and seated herself in the easy chair.

“I am ready, Balphagor.”

“Very good, my Mistress. Stare into my eyes. Yes. Lose yourself in them. Do you see how deep they are? Yess. Stretch out, into them...”

Cindy relaxed, and stared into Balphagor’s eyes. His red irises had begun to sparkle, and it was easy to lose herself in them.

“Yes, my Mistress. Relax. Stare into my eyes. Feel yourself relaxing, becoming tired. Sleepy. Relax.”

Balphagor had started slowly waving his head from side to side, and Cindy’s eyes tracked his. She was aware, dimly, that she hadn’t decided to do so, but she was becoming so relaxed...

“Awaken, Mistress.”

Cindy squeezed her eyes shut, and then re-opened them. The room looked the same. “Balphagor. Were you successful? What time is it?”

“I was, Mistress, and according to the clock you left, it is only four-thirty.”

“Excellent.” Cindy felt... oddly normal. She wondered what it was she had expected to feel like.

“So, there are now three phrases, which only you know, that will sink me into an hypnotic trance?”

“There are, my Mistress.”

“Can I resist them?”

“I do not believe so, my Mistress.”

“Well done, Balphagor. Then tomorrow you will begin to teach me magic.”

“Magic, my Mistress?”

“Yes. I know you know it. I’ve done my research. Part of my purpose in summoning you was to have you teach me black magic. The potent kind. You’re going to be doing rather a lot of teaching, in the future.”

“You are aware, my Mistress, that the kind of magic I have to teach you can only blacken your immortal soul?”

“I am aware of that. Be prepared to start your instruction on the morrow. For now, I dismiss you.”

“My Mistress?”

“Yes, Balphagor?”

“If I may... each moment not in Hell is... better. Hell is not an... amenable place, to pass the time, even for such as I. I ask, as your servant, that you not dismiss me until such time as you need to.”

Cindy thought about this request.

“Very well. We have fifteen minutes. What shall we discuss?”

“Whatever you like, my Mistress. I only wish to remain here.”

“I see.” Cindy smiled her crooked smile. “Then tell me, Balphy, where do you fit into the heirarchy? Just what sort of a demon are you?”

Balphagor’s expression did not change, but his nostrils flared. After a brief pause, he replied, “Surely my Mistress knows. I am but a lowly sort of demon. Were I not so, she could not have bound me so easily.”

Cindy stretched, and moved in the chair. “And who do you report to? Who is your boss? And who is their boss?”

“I am numbered in the host of Aztaratoth, who is in turn one of the servants of Ma’astoreth, a minor Lord.”

“Ma’astoreth, eh? What’s his game?”

“He is one of six set over those who Lust, my Mistress, as surely you know.”

“I did, actually. And yourself? Have you any minions?”

Balphagor snorted. “Hardly. Beneath myself are only imps and quasit, who are too lowly to deserve notice.”

The two looked at each other. Then Cindy gestured around the room.

“And how about all this, Balphy? Do your colleagues think the less of you for being so peremptorily summoned to my whim?”

“No, my Mistress. Even in Hell, knowledge is power, and at your command I have garnered much knowledge. Even now I am in a position to set myself over those formerly my equals.”

“Oh?” Cindy shifted coquettishly. “And can I be of any help in this?”

“My Mistress?”

“I asked, Balphagor, if there were something I could do, to make your... rise to power swifter, or more sure. After all, it would suit me mightily to have a more powerful devil at my command.”

Balphagor turned, and walked slowly around the interior of the pentagram. Cindy watched his tight ass muscles flex and move. When he looked up, his eyes were glowing slightly.

“Perhaps, my Mistress. I shall think on this. My Mistress is too kind.”

Cindy rose, smiling. “Not by half, Balphy. Now go. Soon others will arrive, and I do not wish to be caught here, with you, so early into my plans.”

“Very well, my Mistress.”

“Balphagor?”

“Yes, my Mistress?”

“See you tomorrow.”