The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Balphagor”

(mc, nc, f/f, m/f)

DISCLAIMER:

This material is for adults only; it contains explicit sexual imagery and non-consensual relationships. If you are offended by this type of material or you are under legal age in your area, do NOT continue.

* * *

Balphagor

part Five

* * *

“So, Tom, did you have a good time?”

Tom was walking Suzanne back to her apartment. The part of his conscience that knew he would kill himself if he passed up this chance had won out, and he called Suzanne on Friday. Tonight, he had picked her up at eight, and they hopped on the metro. She had taken him to six bars, four clubs, and finally a warehouse rave where Tom had done E for the first time. Now it was going on six AM.

“Jeez, Suzanne, that was incredible. I had the totally best time of my life. How did you find out about those places?”

“You just have to ask, Tom. Of course, it helps to be a pretty girl in a leather dress.”

They arrived at her door.

“Well, uh, I had a great time.”

“You’re such a total gentleman, Tom. Would you like to come in?”

“I, ah, yeah.”

“Then please, do.” She opened the door, and flipped on the lights. “Sorry it’s just a studio. You can sit on the bed—I’m going to use the bathroom and slip into something more comfortable. Leather is one of my favorite things to wear, but it’s not the first word in relaxation.”

He watched her tight, leather-clad ass as she sashayed over to the bathroom, and closed the door. Then he went over and sat on the bed.

Oh, boy. This was it—she totally wanted him. He was finally gonna lose his cherry. And with such a hottie! God damn—he had been watching her in that tight leather outfit all night. She had been hit on at least four times that he saw, but she had totally blown them off and hung on his arm. And the dancing—he had a stiffie all night from her grinding against him.

“There, this is about as comfortable as it gets, wouldn’t you say?”

Suzanne was standing silhouetted in the door. Buck naked. Tom’s jaw dropped.

“What do you think?” Suzanne slowly pirouetted, turning around on her tiptoes.

“I, ah, you are incredible.”

“I am, aren’t I?” She finished her turn, and came back down on her feet. “And I’m yours, baby. Come on—I’m showing you mine, now you show me yours.” She walked to the bed as Tom hopped off and fumbled with his clothes.

He had succeeded in removing his shoes and socks, and was working on his shirt, when she reached him.

“Let me,” she breathed, and dropped to her knees. Without even looking at his belt, she unzipped his fly, pulled open the flap of his underwear, and fished out his penis.

“Oooh, that’s a nice one. God, I can’t wait—” Suzanne sucked his hardening prick into her mouth. Tom goggled at her, as she began sliding her head backwards and forward on his dick. He moaned as the sensation hit him.

“Oh. Oh wow. Ah.” Suzanne was bobbing, sucking, and obviously enjoying every second of it. Even if it weren’t the most incredible thing Tom had ever felt, her sheer enthusiasm for his prick would have had him ready to shoot in seconds.

“Oh, Suzanne—stop, I think I’m going to, oh—” Suddenly, Suzanne gripped the base of his cock hard between her thumb and forefinger, and pulled her lips from his dick with a pop.

“Tom, is this your first time?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” he admitted, hesitantly.

“Then you should be good for several rounds, lover. Go ahead and shoot in my mouth—we’ll have you hard again real quick.” She slid his dick back into her mouth, and released the pressure of her fingers until she was just lightly sliding them up and down his shaft. Sure enough, he was nearing climax again within the minute.

Suzanne could tell, and she pulled back to the end of his cock while her fingers tickled him, just keeping her lips on the tip—and he came, arching back his head and clutching at her while he filled her mouth with cum. She kept running her fingers up and down his shaft as he ejaculated into her mouth.

With just a small sucking sound, she pulled off of his prick, and stood up, sliding her hands under his shirt. When her face was level with his, he could see that her cheeks were slightly bulging—she smiled at him, and with an exaggerated motion, swallowed in one long pull.

“Aaaahhhh,” she said, mouth wide, with streamers of cum between her lips, which she pushed together with her tongue and pulled into her mouth. “I love sucking cock. Especially a nice one like yours, although we’ll have to work on your stamina.”

While she was talking, she had unbuttoned Tom’s shirt, and was now undoing his belt.

“So, um, Tom,” Suzanne asked, in a little girls voice. “Would you be willing to do the same for me?”

“Oh yeah, Suzanne, sure. Although I’ve never—”

“Then I’ll tell you what to do, baby.” She dropped his pants to the floor, and hopped up on the bed. “First you should come up here and rub your sexy body all over me. And then we’ll get nasty.”

* * *

The room was dark, and blurry through her tears.

“Master commands,” Maryanne said in a flat voice, drowning out the whimpering in her head.

“Master commands, and this slave will obey.”

With that, Maryanne brought the black needle down hard into the center of Bethany’s sleeping chest. Her roommate’s eyes flew open, and she sucked in a loud, gasping breath. Then she collapsed back onto the bed, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream. Maryanne let go of the cloth, which fell onto the bed next to Bethany—the blunt end of the needle sticking out several inches above Bethany’s still chest.

Maryanne dropped to her knees, weeping quietly.

Outside, the night was undisturbed. What had she become? First she had turned Suzanne into that, that sex monster—and now she had killed Bethany. She had to obey Master, but it was so hard. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. Maybe the police would come, now, and lock her up, where she couldn’t hurt anyone else. Oh God, she had killed Bethany!

“Maryanne,” came Bethany’s voice from above her.

Maryanne rose up on her haunches to look at Bethany, still sprawled on the bed. The needle was gone from her chest, though her nightgown had a singed hole where Maryanne had stabbed through it. She was looking at Maryanne.

“B-B-B-Bethany?”

“No. Right letter, wrong name, my slave.”

“Balphagor?” whispered Maryanne.

“Yes. You have done well, my slave. This woman is now my vessel. Although I cannot appear myself on your plane, I can enter this ‘Bethany’ whenever I desire. And although she is flesh, she will be a very useful tool.”

“Is Bethany... dead?”

“Ah, my poor little Maryanne. Still burdened with her human morality. No, my slave, Bethany is not dead. She is right here—I have just put her to sleep while I borrow her body for a while. So do not cry over your dear Bethany. Killing her would serve no purpose, and would raise suspicions I don’t want raised. Besides, my pet, I would not have you despise me. You have pleased me, Maryanne. You are a fine tool. And now your roommate is, too, although she will not know it.”

“Master, it was so hard... please don’t make me...”

“Hush, slave. You have done well. I have a more direct tool, now, and I will not need you to do the hard things for me, anymore. Now, I must get back to my other task, this evening. I don’t know why she wants this book, but she has paid for it. Good night, Maryanne. I am well pleased.”

“Th-thank you, Master.”

The room was quiet, and then Bethany sat up, screaming—Maryanne leapt to her feet, startled. Bethany stared at her with wild eyes.

“Ma-Maryanne! Oh God, it was just a dream. Just a dream. Oh God, Maryanne, please hold me.”

It was almost too many shocks for Maryanne in too short a time, but the need for human contact in her roommate’s face was too great for her to resist, and she knelt on the bed while Bethany clutched her and shivered in her embrace.

“Oh, Maryanne, it was the most terrible dream. I was in a cage, a cage made of black metal twisted into thorns, and I was naked, and the cage was suspended over a lake of fire. And there were these things, talking to me, but they sounded like insects and I was so scared...”

Maryanne stroked her hair. She knew what she was supposed to say.

“Shh, Bethany. Shh. It was just a dream.

Just a dream.”

* * *

“Unh. Unh. Unh.”

The age-old sound of fucking filled Suzanne’s apartment. Tom had reached heaven and gone out the other side—it was almost ten o’clock, and he was exhausted after four hours and five climaxes. They were in doggy style, now, Tom leaning heavily on Suzanne’s back, gripping her hips as she knelt on all fours and pushed back at him. They were both covered in sweat—and so were the sheets, and the pillows, and the floor...

But it was so fucking great.

Suddenly, he was climaxing again, his dick jerking and shooting blanks into Suzanne’s pussy, which had already taken whatever he had in him. His hands slid off of her hips, and he fell heavily forward, his chest just touching her back. Suzanne had come already, and simply slowed her panting as Tom stopped his thrusting.

“Oh. Wow.” Tom breathed. “Enough.”

“Is that the last of your energy, lover?” asked Suzanne over her shoulder. “Hold on, just stay there. I like to feel your cock still inside me.” She hung her head a moment, and then looked back again. Tom could only see one side of her face. “That was great, lover. Whew—there’s something to be said for fucking a virgin, if you know what you are doing and can pace them right. Wow.”

“That was so great, Suzanne.” gasped Tom. “The whole night, but especially the sex. But I’m just totally exhausted now.”

“Yeah, it was pretty great, wasn’t it? Almost makes me sorry to have to do this.”

“Wha—” Tom got out, before he felt something move inside of Suzanne. He looked down at her back, worried, and then something stung his dick! Something inside Suzanne stung his dick! It was like a needle had just stabbed into the very tip of his cock, and it burned!

“AAAH!” He yelled, pulling out and falling backwards on the bed. “Wha whass agh?”

His face developed a look of terror as he realized that he couldn’t move. In fact, he could barely breathe. His eyes rolled over to watch Suzanne as she turned to face him.

“Sorry, lover. But I’m through with this one—she’ll do fine on her own, now. She’s so addicted to fucking she’s thinking about household pets. So it’s time for a change of scenery. You could certainly use the help.”

Tom could only whimper as Suzanne leaned over and kissed him, her tongue forcing his jaw open, then sliding back along his tongue.

And down his throat...

* * *

It was raining outside. Not a pounding, windy, heavy sort of rain, but a thick drizzle that seemed non-aggressive, yet soaked everything in seconds.

Inside, Cindy was lounging in the chair. Balphagor had taken on her appearance tonight, and was presently seated on a high, wooden chair that Cindy had moved into the circle. Balphagor, of course, was naked, and was seated with her legs blatantly spread. With the height difference, Cindy found herself frequently looking at her own pussy, done in onyx. It was appealing.

“You know, Balphy, I’m finding that I am much more interested in this whole having your child thing.”

“Oh, my Mistress?”

“Yeah. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure that that’s your doing. Isn’t it?”

“Perhaps my Mistress has merely had time to think about things.”

“Yeah. Sure. At any rate, although I am thinking that letting you knock me up sounds almost like fun, I also think that I might realize how dumb an idea it actually is sometime in the future. After I’ve got one in the oven. So let’s just leave that aside for a moment.”

“As my Mistress wishes.”

“You haven’t yet asked my why I summoned you tonight.”

“I imagine my Mistress will tell me in due time. Perhaps it was only for conversational purposes, although that small case you have brought would indicate otherwise.”

Cindy chuckled, and shifted around in the chair. “Ah, Balphy, you are more correct than you know. I really just want you to answer a question for me.”

“And which question is this?”

“What would happen if one were to mingle demon blood with their own?”

“An interesting and blasphemous question. And what will you give me if I tell you?”

“It’s a fairly simple question, and I have a lot of other sources for an answer. You wouldn’t be willing to tell me just because I asked?”

“Ah, my Mistress, I can only imagine how conflicting and mutually contradictory your sources are. You know as well as I that only I can answer that satisfactorily. And although I value you as... an ally, I would have my ounce of flesh in return.”

“Very well. Balphagor, what if I were to tell you—why.”

“Why, my Mistress?”

“Why I am doing this. Why I have summoned you, and yet put you in a position of some power over me. Why... why all of this?”

“This is something I have longed to know, my Mistress. I would consider myself more than compensated.”

Cindy shifted in the chair again. Then, unsatisfied, she stood up, and walked around the rear of the chair, to lean on it. She looked at herself in black, seated naked on the wooden chair, and began.

“Three summers ago, Balphagor, there was a girl who had been accepted to college. She was through with her childhood, and to mark the beginning of adulthood, she traveled to Paris. I am sure that even in your removed experience, you are familiar with the city of lights?”

Balphagor nodded, and she continued.

“She was there for two weeks, and the city was all she had expected, and more. The people, the culture, the sense of... the fullness of life. When the time came to return home, she regretfully packed her bags, and that evening took one last tour of the neighborhood she had been living in.

Perhaps lost in the feel of the city, she neglected to pay much attention to her surroundings. Perhaps she was composing a poem in her head. At any rate, she soon discovered herself in the center of a group of young men. Although she tried to push her way out of the group, she found that they were very intentionally herding her into a small alley nearby. When she tried to run, they beat her, and forced a wadded up sock into her mouth.

They took turns raping her in that alley. There were fourteen of them. No one came to help—when they finally left her, she struggled to the butcher shop on the corner and broke a window, which brought the police.

At the station, the police took her report, but informed her that it was very unlikely her assailants would ever be caught. They told her she should be more careful, wandering around on her own. They told her to go home.”

Cindy stopped. There was a long moment.

Then Balphagor spoke. “But my Mistress, why have you not had me punish your enemies? It would be as nothing to find them, and bind them in torment for a thousand thousand years. I could do this in a trice. Yet you have not once mentioned them.”

“You misunderstand me, Balphagor. I will punish them in due course. But they are nothing. They are faceless non-beings who could be anyone in any city in any nation. The problem wasn’t them, Balphagor. It was me. I was weak. I could not stop them. I was helpless to resist as they did the worse thing to me I could imagine. And I will never, ever be that weak again. You are here to show me power, Balphagor. To give me magic that will let me be the aggressor. So that when they come to me in my dreams, the way they do so often, I will not cower and be their victim. I will burn their eyes out and laugh as they scream. I don’t want revenge, Balphagor. I want power. That,” Cindy spat out, “is why you are here.”

“I see.”

“So, Balphagor, you have your reason. Give me my answer.”

“I shall, my Mistress. But, before... I wish to say something. To me, rape is nothing. It is laughable. In Hell, one heartbeat can be worse than a lifetime of rape. But your... hunger... your hunger shines with an incandescence that blinds me to look upon it. We play our little game, you and I, a game of pleasure and of risk. But whatever we may become in the future, I want you to know that, at this moment, you have impressed me. And that is no little thing.”

Cindy smiled a twisted smile. “Thank you, Balphagor.”

“Your answer, my Mistress?”

“Go on.”

“It would make that person in some part a demon, if it were not instantly fatal. The mingling of blood would be intensely painful, and if the human were overwhelmed by the pain, they would die on the spot. If they survived, however, they would take on some demonic nature. Speed, strength, aversion to holy places... that sort of thing. It really varies by the demon, and the person. As you might assume, it is consummately bad for one’s soul.”

“So, the more powerful the demon, the more powerful the blood, right?”

“And the more dangerous, my Mistress.”

“How powerful is Ygl-whatever?”

Balphagor chuckled. “You mean ‘was’. ‘How powerful was Yglqualuc?’ He was quite powerful—more individually powerful than I was, certainly.” Then he frowned. “You don’t mean...”

“Why yes, Balphagor, I do mean.” Cindy lifted the case from where it sat next to the chair, and placed it on her lap. She spun it to face Balphagor, and popped open the clasps.

“Recognize anything?”

Inside was a large vial of a black substance, which seemed to slowly swirl inside its glass container. Lying next to it, in a velvet holder, was a silver colored syringe set.

In a flat voice, Balphagor replied: “Yglqualuc. My Mistress, I strongly recommend against this course of action. I understand, now, why it must appeal to you, but Yglqualuc was quite powerful, and the risk you are considering is greater than you think. If you do this, you will probably not survive. Let us proceed more slowly. This is rash.”

Cindy swiveled the case around to face herself. She held the vial up in front of her face, pondered it. “Yiggy was a demon of lust, too, wasn’t he?”

“My Mistress, please.”

Cindy put the vial down, and smiled at Balphagor. “Relax, Balphy.” She picked up the syringe set, and opened it. “I know you are seeing someone else. Losing me won’t bar you from this world.”

“My Mistress, how did you... no. No matter. My Mistress, I implore you not to do this.”

Cindy stuck the needle into the vial, and pulled back the plunger, filling the syringe. She took it out, and pushed the plunger up until just a drop of the black fluid hung at the tip of the needle. She looked at Balphagor. “Why not?”

“My Mistress, you have... great value to me. I do not want you to destroy yourself.”

“Don’t worry about it, Balphy. I’ll be fine.”

Then she injected herself with the full contents.

And began to scream...

* * *

Tamara was at home, waiting for Cindy. Her friends had been on her case about not going out with them lately. It was true, Tamara thought, I’ve been spending most of my time with Cindy. Mostly in bed, to be precise. How can I tell my friends that I am sleeping with my roommate? Not that I regret a minute of it. Boy, I bet my mom would freak.

The door opened; Tamara hadn’t even heard the key in the lock. In fact, as it swung open, there was no hand to be seen on the doorknob—but then she forgot all that as Cindy entered, her gait so smooth that she didn’t walk so much as floated into the room. Tamara’s mouth dropped open.

“Jesus, Cindy. Are you all right?”

Cindy turned her eyes to meet Tamara’s, and the effect of her entrance was redoubled. Cindy’s skin was pale, almost waxy, but her lips were a startling blood red. Her dark orange-red hair seemed to give her dark blue eyes a reddish tint. She looked like a vampire from some early seventies horror movie.

Complete with hypnotic eyes. As Cindy glided over towards her, Tamara found all her questions floating away, unasked, as she became lost in the power of Cindy’s attention. She had been dumbstruck by Cindy before, but this was new—she felt like a cog in an infinitely greater machine, and the engineer had arrived to tell her how to function. It was so overwhelming that the engineer would take an interest in something as insignificant as she, and she quivered to receive its instruction.

Cindy was at her now, her deep blue eyes—there were hints of red in them, like they were reflecting a red light that wasn’t in the room—her eyes holding Tamara, taking her measure. Tamara looked up at her, waiting, supplicant.

“I’m quite fine.”

What? Oh, yes, the question. Cindy’s eyes dropped to the dress Tamara was wearing, and with the scrutiny gone, Tamara found her voice again.

“Cindy, you look so, so...”

The eyes returned, but this time they were just eyes, those pretty eyes that Tamara could gaze into after lovemaking. The demanding eyes, the eyes that looked right into her soul, were gone as if they had never been.

“So what?”

“So pale! Your skin is... white!”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, but...”

Cindy stroked her cheek. “Shhh. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Better than ever.” She smiled. “I’ll show you.”

Cindy stepped back, and pulled off her shirt. Her skin was as pale underneath, but under her white bra there were two dark circles—sure enough, as she unsnapped her bra and took it off, Tamara saw that Cindy’s nipples were a dark, dark red, matching her lips. Nipples the color of heart’s blood.

“Jeez, Cindy...”

“Don’t you like my new look?”

“I don’t...it’s...”

But the eyes were back, sucking her in. Telling her that everything was all right, was the way it should be. She did like the new look. It was different, startlingly so, but it was also very, very sexy. Like a vampire.

“Yes. I like your new look.”

“Touch me.”

Gingerly, Tamara reached out to Cindy’s breast. It was warm under her fingertips—she realized she had half expecting it to be cool, alien. How silly. It was just the way it had been before, smooth, full, appealing. Tamara licked her lips, and Cindy stepped forward for her to kiss her dark red nipple. She licked at it, sucked it into her mouth, rolled it with her tongue. Her arms slid around Cindy’s back, and Cindy pulled her to her feet for a long kiss. A long, hard kiss—Cindy was hungry.

They threw off their clothes quickly. Cindy was pulling at her, kneading her buttocks, her waxy skin pressed close against Tamara’s tanned hardness. Tamara suddenly had to taste her, and slid her face down, between her breasts and across her smooth stomach to her pussy—the scent of it was familiar, and Tamara barely marveled at the contrast of the reddish hair (lighter than on Cindy’s head) and the pale skin before she dove in, kissing, sucking, licking.

Tamara was now just a vessel for the red lust which had been poured into her, and she could only obey, feeding at the altar for all she was worth. Cindy moaned, leaning back against the desk, spreading her legs, giving Tamara access to the only thing she wanted. It wasn’t the gentle teasing that they usually began with, licking the labia and flicking the clit—it was a driving need, and Tamara was burying her tongue up inside Cindy, tasting her, pushing her face into Cindy’s wet folds, wiggling her tongue around as deeply in her cunt as it could go.

Cindy’s hips bucked as she rode Tamara’s face, feeling the tongue deep inside her. She felt her orgasm rising up in her, and was still for just a moment before coming hard, clutching at Tamara’s head, crying out. She could only lean heavily on the desk for another moment before her legs gave out on her and she sank onto Tamara, bearing the girl down, her face still buried between Cindy’s legs, sucking, working. Cindy grabbed the chair, lowered herself to the ground.

Tamara lifted her head from between Cindy’s legs, her lower face glistening, her chin dripping. Cindy had a sudden image of something small and black, with wriggling tentacles like a sea anemone, something else that had been between her legs—but it disappeared before she could wonder at it.

Tamara was wild-eyed. “Oh God, Cindy, I am so fucking horny. You taste so fucking, fucking good.”

“Bed, Tammy. We should get to a bed.”

“Mine’s clear.” Tamara rose to her feet, reached for Cindy’s hands. “We could get the toybox...”

Cindy grabbed Tamara’s outstretched hands, pulled herself up. “Maybe later. Right now I have to get my face between your legs.”

The two bolted for the bedroom.

* * *

“Hey, Laurie.”

Laurie looked over at the next table. She almost didn’t recognize Tom—he was in a smart-looking collared shirt and a new haircut.

“Hi, Tom.”

“Anyone sitting with you?”

“Nope.”

“May I join you?”

“Be my guest.”

He was definitely different from when she had taken calculus with him last spring. For one thing, he had some sort of really nice cologne on.

“So, Laurie, how are you doing these days?”

“Oh, fine. Busy with school, stuff like that.”

“As I recall, you were focusing on Biology.”

She smiled. Nice that he remembered. “Yeah, I am.”

“Say, I was wondering—has anyone asked you to the sock hop this coming weekend? The Student Union is putting it on.”

Wow. How flattering! “No, no one has.”

“I’d love to take you, if you’re interested.”

She looked at him again. He sure had spiffed up since she had last seen him. What the hell—she’d give him a chance.

“That would be fun.”

“Wonderful! I’ll come by your place on Friday. So, tell me more about your courses.” He smiled, and his teeth sparkled. He smelled really good.

* * *

‘Balphagor’

END part Five