The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young Prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind.

But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle, and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold.

Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the Prince sneered at the gift, and turned the old woman away.

But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within.

And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away, to reveal a beautiful Enchantress.

The Prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart.

And, as punishment...

BANG.

“Crn?” mumbled the Prince, still half in a dream.

BANG, BANG.

“Crnwtrgrrr,” grumbled the Prince, tossing his head and trying to ignore the thunderstorm.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

The prince blinked his eyes and sat up. As he did, the book he’d been reading when he fell asleep fell off his lap and onto the floor, losing his place and making him swear under his breath. That was no thunder, though it was surely raining out. Someone was knocking at the door.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

“Stiers!” the prince shouted. No response. Stiers, his majordomo, usually so quick to respond, so efficient. Where was he? “STIERS!” called the prince, louder this time.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Of course, the prince remembered, his head still fuzzy. He’d given the servants leave to visit the village tonight, for the holiday. It took his slowly wakening mind a few more seconds to make the connection—no servants meant no one to answer the door but him. And seemingly whatever person was banging on the castle door on this cold winter’s night meant to keep doing it until someone responded.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

“I’m coming!” snapped the Prince, in the direction of downstairs. Obviously, the noisemaker wouldn’t hear him through these stone walls, but it made the Prince feel better to shout. He stood up, and stretched his young body. The Prince cut a dashing figure, and he was of marriageable age. He knew well that there were many highborn ladies hoping he would woo them and give them his affection, but none of them had ever met with his approval. One duchess was too old; another princess had crooked teeth; another noblewoman had an unsightly blemish on her left ear. The prince had nonesuch—he was of strong build, but not overlarge, in excellent shape from his pastimes of hunting and fencing, his perfect brown hair dressed by the finest barber in the land, and his teeth were immaculate.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

The Prince stopped admiring himself in the mirror, and trudged downstairs. His muscles ached from the uncomfortable nap in the reading chair. “This is some emperor desperate for my aid in a great war, or some desperate maiden pleading for me to save her father from a dragon,” he told himself. “It had better be, anyway.”

BANG, BANG—

The Prince opened the stone door, making a colossal racket as it scratched along the ground. Immediately, cold wind and rain lashed at his face, further souring his mood. He wiped his eyes, and looked at the creature on his doorstep.

No king nor princess stood there, but an old, haggard-looking, beggar woman. Wrinkles lined her face and her elongated nose. Beady, black eyes stared up at him from beneath a moldy-looking green hooded cloak. Bent over with age, she was barely half his height when he drew himself up. In a word, she was hideous.

“Yes?” the Prince said, practically spitting at her.

“My lord,” creaked the old hag. Thunder punctuated her words. “A merry feast day to you.”

“What. Do. You. Want.” The Prince enunciated, impatiently.

“The princes of this land are said to be famed for their generosity and hospitality,” she said, staring up at him with those beady, wrinkled little eyes. “My lord, this cold and wind pains my bones, and I have no place to go on this night. Would you permit me to take shelter in your castle, just for the evening?”

He stared at her, incredulously. The impudence of this old woman!

“I would offer you, in exchange and gratitude,” she reached into her cloak, and for a moment the Prince was interested. “...this rose,” she said, pulling it out. It was freshly cut, bright red, and fragrant. If the Prince had been of an inquisitive mind, he might have found it odd that she possessed such a thing in a winter as chilly as this. But he was not of an inquisitive mind. He was tired, sore, cold, without his usual servants, and above all, repulsed by this haggard-looking woman.

“We have no room here,” the Prince sneered. “Good feast day to you.” He put his hand on the door to close it, but the beggar woman spoke again.

“Now, my lord, I see that look in your eyes,” she said, reprovingly. “I know I must like quite ugly to your young eyes. But don’t be deceived by appearances. True beauty is found... within.” She smiled her wrinkly smile, and held out the rose.

“Get that thing out of my face!” thundered the Prince. This pronouncement was echoed by an actual bolt of thunder. “When the lord of the castle dismisses you, tramp, you leave. Now be gone!”

He got the door halfway closed, when a remarkable thing happened. Another flash of lightning sparked high overhead, nearly blinding the Prince. And when his eyes recovered, the person before him had completely changed. No longer an old, bent old crone did he see, but a beautiful young lady, with golden curls of hair flowing down her shoulders. In place of the wrinkled and weathered visage, beautiful soft cheeks, and brilliant green eyes that matched the color of her dress. And that, too had changed—no worn traveling cloak, but a stunning dress, cut perfectly to show off her soft curves.

“Tramp, am I?” she asked. Her voice caressed his ears like a lover’s hand.

The Prince just stared. Never had he seen a creature of such beauty. It took him a solid minute before he unloosed his tongue. “What are you?”

“I? I am an enchantress.” She looked at him sternly. “And you’re supposed to apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” Prince hurried to say, stepping aside to let her in.

“Too late,” the Enchantress returned shortly. She did step inside, though, letting him shut the door behind her.

“Can I, er, can I get you a drink? Some refreshment? Anything?” asked the Prince, hoping to smooth things over with this gorgeous damsel. She was of a height with him, now that the illusion was gone, but somehow she seemed to tower over him.

“What difference does your hospitality make now? If you would let an old woman freeze outside in a winter thunderstorm, there must be no love in your heart at all.” She touched a finger to his chest to prove the point, making him blush.

“No, I do have love in my heart!” he sputtered, unable to stand such harsh criticism from such a beauty, and in his own castle’s foyer, where he should be playing the gracious host. “I just thought... I mean, because of the spell, I thought you were...”

“Ugly,” the Enchantress finished for him. “Yes, you did. But you didn’t bother to look past that, did you? All you could see was my appearance, my body.”

“That’s not true...” he protested, weakly.

“Oh? Then why are you staring at my chest right now?”

The Prince realized he had been staring. Her breasts, hidden of course by her dress, were nevertheless the most perfectly formed he had ever seen—neither too large, nor too small, nor too fat, nor too flat. But he tore his eyes away from them to look into her green eyes. “My lady... I do apol—”

She raised a hand to cut him off. “Don’t even bother. Naturally, you would be drawn to my bosom. It’s quite natural, for an unattached young man like you, especially one so obsessed with appearances. You’re probably wondering what they look like beneath this dress right now, aren’t you.”

She had made it a statement, not a question, and so he didn’t feel a need to reply. With great effort, he kept his eyes directed at hers, but he couldn’t deny that he was wondering...

“Of course, but it is natural for you, isn’t it?” she said, the Enchantress’ voice growing softer. “A prince like you must have such a strong imagination, I bet you could just picture my breasts, couldn’t you? I’m sure you know this, the way your mind conjures up these images for you when you start to think about something so beautiful. It does, doesn’t it?”

The Prince found himself nodding. Her breasts were so soft, so round, so lovely to look at in his imagination. A moment later, he might have realized what un-princely things he was agreeing to, but before he could take his mind’s eye away from her, she spoke again.

“That’s right. And you’ve probably also started to notice how you can focus all of your attention on the mental image of my breasts, without needing to listen to what I’m saying. Making polite conversation is second nature to you, so it’s something you don’t have to pay attention to. Your subconscious can do it for you. And if you want, you can let your conscious mind think of nothing but my beautiful, soft, warm, round, full, perfect breasts, while your unconscious mind listens to me. Would you like that, my Prince?”

The Prince nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly, his thoughts all on her body.

“Yes, you would. You’re just such a visual person, as you must surely realize, my Prince. So concerned with appearances, ever seeking beauty. So eager for beauty, such beauty, like my beautiful body, aren’t you?”

He smiled.

“Yes, that’s right, isn’t it? And while you lose yourself in such pleasant thoughts, you can just relax and let your subconscious listen to my beautiful voice. You’ll find it so easy, my Prince, so easy to let go and listen to my voice.”

His eyes unfocused, his whole face relaxed. The Enchantress put soft but strong arms on his shoulders, and gave a gentle push. He fell backwards, and landed in a comfortable chair. For a moment, he wondered when they had gotten back upstairs to his library. But before he could start to think about that, the Enchantress began once again to pour her voice into his ears.

“Just relax now, my Prince, and picture my breasts in your mind. In your imagination, they are the most beautiful things you have ever seen, aren’t they?”

He smiled and nodded, forgetting about everything else.

“That’s right, they are. And you’re such a visual creature, aren’t you, my Prince? All you ever care about is appearances. All you think about is beauty. You think of nothing else, just the supreme beauty of my bosom. Can you imagine what it would be like to actually see it? To see what’s hidden beneath my dress?”

His smile went wider, as his face went blanker. He was imagining it right now.

“The sight in your mind is the most beautiful thing you can imagine. But I promise you, the truth is even more beautiful. Can you imagine something more beautiful than the most beautiful thing you can imagine?”

He tried, and his mind got a little foggier.

“Do you think it might be the most beautiful thing in the world?”

He grinned, and his eyes got a little more unfocused.

“And you’re so single-minded when it comes to beauty... since appearance is all that matters to you, do you think you could handle something as beautiful as that? Would your mind be too overwhelmed to think? Would it have to simply surrender and go out like a candle?”

He accepted the idea in his subconscious, and his whole body relaxed.

“Let’s see what happens,” whispered the beautiful Enchantress. She put a hand at the collar of her dress. “When you see the full beauty of my breasts, what do you think will happen? Do you think you’ll see my breasts, and just...”

She gave a slight pull, and her breasts spilled out. His eyes went wide.

“...go to sleep,” she finished. And with that, his mind shut down. His eyes remained open, but he was lost, completely under her spell.

“And I barely had to use any magic,” the Enchantress chuckled to herself. She regarded his bewitched form, sunken into the chair, but sunken even deeper in trance. He was, sadly, every bit as spoiled, selfish, and unkind as his reputation suggested, although they never told her he was a looker. That didn’t matter to her, though. She saw the truth of his hard, monstrous heart. Contrary to his beliefs, his appearance counted for nothing if he treated others like a beast.

“Such a happy boy you are, my Prince, staring helplessly at a beautiful woman’s bosom, while your mind floats in nothingness. My body really is all that you care about, isn’t it? You can answer me, it won’t break my spell now.”

“Yes...” he breathed.

“Yes, it is. Of course, a true gentleman, a true prince, would look past a woman’s appearance. He’d treat her as she deserved to be treated, regardless of what she looked like. He’d be generous and kind, and offer hospitality to anyone in need, even ugly old beggars. That’s what a gentleman does, isn’t it?”

“Yes...”

“And so, since you don’t do that, you must not be a gentleman at all, nor a prince. No prince would stare so openly at a woman’s breasts. If he did, he might start to get aroused, helplessly aroused. Are you aroused, staring at me?”

“Yes...” Even in his deeply hypnotized mind, there was room for desire. His manhood strained against his trousers.

“Of course you are. Staring at breasts like mine, it’s no wonder you’re thinking about sex. In fact, as you’ve noticed, that’s all you’re thinking about now. My breasts, your arousal, your undeniable craving for sex. Even though it violates all the rules of gentlemanly behavior, that’s the only thing on your mind. Isn’t that so?”

He blushed. “Yes...”

“Yes, I know,” smiled the Enchantress. She patted his hair, leaning forward and letting her bosom nearly brush up against his face to do it. “And I don’t mind that, you know, not one bit. But no true Prince would surrender himself so completely to his desires for beauty as you have. No civilized man, in fact, would let himself sink so deeply into his uncontrollable desire for sex as you are right now.”

He squirmed in his chair, but his open mind couldn’t deny any of it. He pawed sleepily at his crotch, making her smirk.

“Just look at you, so obsessed with sex and beautiful things, so helpless to think about anything more than that.”

He blushed, but didn’t stop touching himself.

“That’s only natural,” the Enchantress went on. “That’s only instinct. But it’s not what a Prince would do. A prince would be romantic, and care about manners, and treating people right, and he would be so concerned with education, and diplomacy, and warfare... that’s not like you, is it? You don’t want to think of any of that. You just want to let go of those thoughts and act on instinct.”

He moaned assent, staring open-mouthed at the soft mounds inches from his face, and stroking himself as best he could through his pants.

“Someone like you isn’t a Prince at all,” the Enchantress concluded with authority. “He isn’t even a human being. He’s more like an animal... like a beast. That’s what you are, aren’t you? Aren’t you a beast? You are, aren’t you?”

He moaned, “Yes!” and almost, but not quite, felt something in his mind collapse.

“That’s right!” said the Enchantress, approvingly. “You’re just a sexy, mindless, horny beast! And you’re so happy to be one, aren’t you? Go on, tell me!”

“I’m... a... beast!” agreed the Beast.

“Good beast!” laughed the Enchantress. She leaned forward just a little, and her breasts just brushed up against his face. He released a long, soft, sigh, and when he was done, the Enchantress pulled herself away from him, releasing his hair and standing up to her full height.

“Such a happy beast you are,” the Enchantress smiled. “But a beast doesn’t wear clothes, does he? He’s a wild thing, he has no need for such constraints!”

The Beast nodded in agreement. He stood up, and with a roar, started to, not remove, but tear off his clothes. The Enchantress giggled and stood back so as not to get hit any flying buckles, buttons, or fabric.

When he was done, the Beast stood there, naked as the day he was born, and grinning stupidly at the Enchantress. “What a good Beast you make,” the Enchantress observed. He realized she was scanning his athletic body, and stood with his legs apart, shamelessly displaying it. His hard length pointed obscenely at her. Apparently she liked what she saw, because she started to walk towards him. He noticed the flesh of her exposed breasts start to jiggle, and his eyes were drawn irresistibly towards it once again.

“A Beast acts on his instincts,” she reminded him. “You know what to do.”

The Beast growled happily, and nuzzled his head into her round flesh. Every bit as soft and warm as he imagined. He kissed and licked with bestial vigor, lapping his way to her right areola and beginning to suckle the nipple.

“There’s a... ah... good Beast,” she breathed. “Mm, that’s good... now the other one... oh yesss.” Her voice became a hiss as the Beast instinctively licked and sucked, with no need for complex thought. He lost all track of time as he lost himself in her beauty.

“Of course,” she said as he pleasured her, “a Beast can’t think for himself.” She panted and closed her eyes for a moment, then went on. “A Beast cares only about sex, and about beauty. That’s why a Beast needs someone smart to take care of him. Someone to help take care of his animalistic urges... ah...” She shivered in bliss. “...Yes, someone who he will love to act on his urges with, someone who’ll satisfy his mindless desire for things that look good. In short, a Beast needs a Beauty to take care of him, doesn’t he?”

The Beast moaned his eager assent. He wanted that so much, so much he stopped worshiping her breasts and looked at her, hopefully.

“What does that look mean? Do you want me to take care of him?”

He nodded and let out a guttural moan. “Please...”

“Are you sure? You were going to turn me away before... are you sure you want me now, Beast?”

He nodded, staring at her helplessly. His cock was harder than ever, twitching as he looked at her. “Beauty...” he pleaded.

“Very well, Beast. I’ll be your Beauty,” said the Beauty. With those words, the Beast let out a deep howl, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling them both to the carpeted library floor.

The Beast pulled her dress the rest of the way off and tossed it carelessly to the side. Rolling on the floor to get a better position, the brainless Beast soon found his way between her legs, which she spread wide, invitingly. “Such a wild thing, aren’t you, Beast? No thinking now, your animal mind knows what to do...”

And so it did. He clambered on top of the Beauty and entered her. Slowly at first, but with an encouraging lustful look from his partner, the Beast moved faster, beginning to pound into her. With every thrust, he felt he walls of her tight pussy clenching against his cock, and the ecstasy of it drove all remaining vestiges of thought from his head. His passions drove him as he fucked, his eyes happily locked on he Beauty below him. The way her breasts shook with every thrust captured his attention once again, and he started to caress them again.

The Beauty cried out and moaned and writhed on the floor together with the Beast as he fucked her. Her legs kicked out in all directions as the first waves of orgasm started to overwhelm her, and she knocked over a bookshelf. He howled out as he came, grabbing her in his own ecstasy. The mixture of sounds could be heard even the sound of another thunderbolt splitting the air above them.

Finally, she pushed him off her. He collapsed onto the floor, and she managed to stand up. Looking down into his eyes, she saw nothing there but mindless arousal and bestial need.

“I bet you want to go again, don’t you?” she asked. He grinned, showing his teeth. “You Beast,” laughed the Beauty, and pulled him over to the sofa.

The next morning, the servants returned to the castle to find the main door ajar. Looking around fearfully, they went upstairs and saw the library apparently destroyed—bookshelves knocked over, the sofa’s cushions all thrown about the room, tables overturned, and the Prince’s own clothes on the floor, shredded as if by some monster, but his body was nowhere to be found. And that’s when the heard a roar, a horrible monstrous sound, echo from the Prince’s own bedchamber. Needless to say, the servants ran as fast as they could back into town, where the rumors started to spread. Soon, what the servants saw, and the bestial sounds coming from the castle at all hours of the day and night, turned into the legend we all know, of the Prince who was transformed into a horrible, monstrous Beast.