The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Brandi ran. She didn’t even know where she was running to. All she knew was that something was wrong. Something had changed.

Lily was different, that much was certain. Ever since she’d taken Brandi to that college party, something had been wrong. But…that had been Wednesday night. Three days ago.

Even through her addled brain, Brandi could tell that didn’t make sense. Why had no one done anything? Lily had been running around—clearly hexed—for three days now.

Why hadn’t she done anything?

She’d been so self-obsessed lately. The stuff with Michael, patrol…Duncan.

And then, Brandi realized. It hit her, all at once.

Of course she hadn’t done anything.

She was a bad Protector.

No, worse than that. She was a bad friend.

Slowing down, Brandi became aware of something else odd: her chest hurt. Her duties as the Protector regularly had her running much further, for much longer—she’d never had any issues with her chest hurting before.

Looking down at her sticky cleavage, Brandi frowned. The question from last night arose its head once more: had her boobs grown? No, that didn’t make sense. Maybe it was just that she’d stopped wearing a bra.

Why had she stopped wearing a bra?

Before she could follow that train of thought any further, Brandi noticed that she was standing outside a bar. She was a bad Protector and a worse friend. Her mouth was dry, her chest hurt, and in that moment she could think of nothing that she wanted to do more than to escape the pathetic life that she’d built herself, and avoid thinking about the pathetic situation she’d gotten herself into.

The fact that this was the bar where she’d been picked up by the man in the cowboy hat wasn’t even a factor.

At least, that was what she told herself.

“Kristine? Are you sure?”

“That’s right,” Duncan said. He’d never actually been inside Niles’ house before—in his mind, the middle-aged librarian only really existed inside the school library, or (rarely) on-site at a battle, or a summoning, or a mass dispellment.

Technically he wasn’t currently inside the librarian’s house—to his surprise, Niles had met him at the doorway…and then not invited him in.

And so Duncan had laid out his suspicions on the Mentor’s stoop, where anyone could hear.

Not that anyone was likely to be eavesdropping…but still, Duncan knew that there was something odd about the Mentor’s behavior.

“But what makes you think she’s been altered?”

Duncan hesitated. He knew about Mrs. Winter’s past with Brandi’s Mentor—the whole gang did. The six of them spent enough time together that there were very few secrets between them…although Duncan was pretty sure that no one had yet worked out that he was gay.

Hell, he told himself. I only just figured it out myself.

Something about that struck him as odd, but as he opened his mouth to ask Niles’ opinion, the older man repeated the question.

“You’d have to have been in quite an intimate situation in order to see enough to be sure.”

Duncan felt the blood rushing to his cheek—his dark skin-tone meant that it was hard to tell when he was blushing, but Niles was inspecting him closely.

“What are you hiding?” he asked insistently, and Duncan admitted everything. In full view of any Antioch citizen who happened to be passing by, Duncan told the librarian about his hidden feelings for Jeff, the note…and what he’d found when he’d visited Jeff’s house the previous day.

He was diplomatic enough to leave out the parts of the story that involved sleeping with Brandi or Nicolette, but seeing Kristine naked was vital, and so it was with great shame that the young football player described sleeping with Brandi’s mother.

When his tale was done, he glanced up at the Mentor and his blood ran cold. There was a look in Niles’ eyes unlike anything the black teen had ever encountered before.

No, that wasn’t quite true. Halfway through the previous year, Nicolette had been captured by a Reptilian Sun-God…or a Reptilian Overlord who had convinced a local cult that he was God of the Sun, at least. As Brandi had slain the Sun-God wannabe, Duncan had rushed in to try to save Nicolette, and run face-first into one of the High Priestesses.

She had that same look in her eyes; a look of utter hatred, of pure fury. Duncan had blanched at the sight of it, but he’d quickly realized that she hadn’t even seen him—her attention had been solely focused on Brandi, who had committed what she clearly considered the ultimate crime—killing her God.

She hadn’t even noticed the collision, but that look had never left his mind—he’d just been thankful that it wasn’t directed at him, but at Brandi: the person whom he was sure, more than anyone, could take whatever wrath came her way.

Now, for the first (and—he hoped—the last) time, Duncan knew what it was to be the recipient of such a glare.

“Come inside,” Niles whispered, his voice trembling with rage, and the idea of disobeying never even crossed Duncan’s mind.

Nicolette stood outside Michael’s house, her foot twisting nervously as she reached up to knock.

Her hand moved back to her side. Then back up to the knocker, then back to her side.

“This is stupid,” she muttered. After they’d fucked last night…no, that didn’t give it enough weight.

After the most amazing sex that she’d ever encountered, a hot dicking so good that she was 100% sure she was knocked up with the spawn of her gorgeous demon lover, Nicolette and Michael had awkwardly parted ways. They’d finished their patrol and waited at the rendezvous point for Brandi.

And that was when Nicolette had realized—her plan for revenge had simply been to sleep with Michael and gloat about it…but wouldn’t revenge be so much sweeter if instead of just hearing about her rival’s affair with her boyfriend, she stumbled upon them in the act?

With that in mind, Nicolette had run a finger up Michael’s chest and into his mouth, and the demon had quickly gotten the point.

“Come with me,” he said brusquely, and his firm tone and commanding presence had made Nicolette swoon that she’d immediately forgotten that she wanted to be caught, and followed him behind a crypt.

Unlike the first time, Michael ripped her clothes off (she hadn’t realized the extent of the damage to her shirt until she got home and found her biceps winking at her through the tear), pushed her to the ground, and entered her so quickly it made her breathless.

The encounter lasted no more than five minutes, but with such heat and intensity that it made the previous session feel like a relaxing sea-cruise. Michael pounded into her, twisting her body to his will, pinching and tugging on her sensitive nipples until the fireworks spread throughout her entire body and made her scream with pleasure.

After he erupted inside her, she felt…she felt fucked, in the best possible way.

“Wow,” she said, grinning up at the demon who’d made her feel better than she could ever remember feeling.

He’d just grinned back, and then he’d gone.

Nicolette had waited around for Brandi for another half-hour, but when it became clear that the Protector wasn’t coming back, she’d walked home, knees trembling.

Maybe Brandi came back and heard my screams, she told herself, but it was hard to focus on thoughts of revenge (what had she been mad about, anyway?) when memories of fast, brutal, passionate love-making filled her mind.

And so as soon as she’d awoken the next morning, she’d known what she had to do. She had to visit Michael.

She had to get fucked again. Her head was swimming with the intensity of it, the raw power of his demon dick.

Would he want to? He’d been holding back the previous night—not when it came to sex…at least, she couldn’t imagine that what she’d experienced being described by anyone as “holding back”). But there’d been a strange hesitancy, and Nicolette didn’t understand why.

The cheerleader had theories, of course. Perhaps he’d just thrown her a bone. Maybe just like the mortal men she’d been trying to seduce, he too was put off by her new, muscular form. Perhaps if she looked more like she used to—more like Brandi—that hesitancy would have vanished.

Maybe the hesitancy would have vanished, and he’d have stuck around.

Nicolette determinedly raised her hand and knocked at the demon’s door. She wasn’t ashamed of her new body—no, last night had told her exactly why she’d changed, what had happened.

Demons were much more powerful than humans. She’d been given a new body so that she could keep up when she was fucked by one.

Bars are typically pretty empty at midday on a Saturday, and the crowd is mostly made up of people who don’t have anywhere better to go. The occasional woman, perhaps, but mostly men—men who like to drink, or (just as commonly) men who don’t particularly like to drink, but don’t really have anything they like to do more.

Men who are starting slow, because they plan to be there ’til closing time.

And so quite a few eyes were on Brandi, as she stumbled across the room, being led by the man who’d bought her last three drinks.

The bartender had considered IDing her, but as the barflies had slowly begun to move closer to her, decided against it. He was risking a fine, sure, but by not checking her age, he was ensuring a steady stream of expensive drink sales.

He’d decided that she liked expensive drinks, and whenever someone had offered to buy the next round, ensured it was top-shelf liquor that they were paying for.

After half an hour, Brandi was sloshed. After an hour, she was barely able to stand. And by the time she’d been there for ninety minutes, she’d had twelve drinks and could hardly string a sentence together.

That was when her honest thoughts had really started to come out.

“I love being cum on,” she slurred, her grey eyes trying desperately to focus each man in turn. The half-dozen men who were sitting next to her, hanging on her every word…and the half-dozen men who were sitting around the bar, watching the spectacle unfold. “I just love it.”

The murmuring of the strangers at the bar indicated support, and so she continued.

“It’s all I deserve,” she said, and again, a soft sigh of arousal left her lips. “Oh!”

The two men who hadn’t been fully erect at the start of that sentence adjusted their pants at the sound.

“I just…”

She trailed off, before picking a man at random and staring at him with laser focus.

“I just wanna be cum on.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he turned to the left and right, looking for support.

“Please?”

And so, after receiving encouraging smiles from the fellow bar-goers, he led her across the room to the female bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, he was alone, a triumphant look on his face, his fly undone.

For the first time in the bar’s history, a queue quickly formed outside the women’s bathroom.

Lily practically floated home. If she hadn’t lived in Antioch her whole life, she would almost certainly have gotten lost—the synapses in her brain were all firing at once, and the world was made of colors.

Greg had reluctantly kicked her out—as much as he enjoyed playing with his newly-found toy, he had a business to run…and besides, her friend’s abrupt exit had sort of killed the mood. He’d helped Lily redress, given her a bottle of water, and gently shoved her out the door.

Fortunately for the young woman, both of her parents were at work—ever since she’d started helping Brandi out with her duties, they were used to her disappearing overnight, but one glance at their daughter would have been enough to tell that she was tripping, and one whiff would have given a good indication of how she’d spent her morning.

Laying down on her bed, Lily wished she’d thought to bring home the big bag of toys Greg had put together for her the previous day. That was what she felt like right now—a big, purple dildo to fill her up. Or blue. Or green. Hell, as long as it was big, she didn’t care what color it was.

She wanted to experiment. Her pussy was yearning for a toy, or a vegetable, or a dog—something new. A new experience, a way of being fucked that she’d never had before. Public sex, or sex with an old man, or an orgy…

An orgy.

Lily sat up suddenly, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of arousal and narcotics.

An orgy.

Why not?

As Duncan meekly followed Niles through the house, he stared at his shoes. He knew he’d fucked up, sleeping with Brandi’s mother—he hadn’t even enjoyed it, but he’d still been unable to resist. He just hadn’t thought of who his actions would hurt—the idea of Brandi finding out had flitted through his mind, but he’d determinedly ignored it…he hadn’t even considered Niles’ feelings.

When the older man abruptly stopped, it took some effort for Duncan to avoid running into his back. As he looked up, it suddenly became apparent why Niles hadn’t invited him in.

In front of him was the librarian’s bedroom, and tied to the bed was a blonde girl in pigtails and nothing else. Her body, just like Kristine’s, was perfect—as she struggled against the roles, it just served to accentuate her lithe muscles and make her round tits bounce.

She was gagged, her legs splayed to expose her pussy (shaven, but for a neatly-trimmed patch of bright red hair) and for the second time in a few minutes, Duncan saw it—the look of pure fury and hate.

This time, fortunately, it wasn’t directed at him—it was directed at Niles. Niles saw it too, and crossed the room to sit on the bed. A cruel smirk appeared on his face, and he reached down and caressed one of the girl’s breasts.

Her eyes fluttered, and the look of hate was suddenly replaced with one of lust.

“Demon,” Niles said in a single word. “Caught her skulking around the school. Normally I’d get Brandi to take care of it, but something told me that I could…punish…this one myself.”

Duncan just nodded, dumbstruck. Could whatever had affected Kristine be working its magic on Niles as well? He wasn’t one to tie up demons and use them as sex-toys.

Was he?

Suddenly Duncan wasn’t sure of anything. Just that morning, he would have sworn on the lives of his loved-ones that he was straight, but now he knew—he knew—that he was gay.

He’d thought he knew these people, but hell, he’d never even been to Niles’ house before. Perhaps this was a regular occurrence. Maybe Niles captured a female demon for his pleasure every few months.

…of course, who said it was only female demons who were treated this way?

The look was back. On Niles, not the trussed-up demon—she was still writhing with pleasure as the librarian tweaked and pulled at her nipples.

No, Niles’ look of pure hate was back, and it was directed squarely at Duncan.

“You’ve done wrong,” the librarian said in a strong whisper, and—almost against his will—Duncan nodded. “Something’s happened to Kristine, and you didn’t help her. You took advantage of it.”

“I didn’t know!” Duncan wanted to shout, but the words died in his throat, and all he could do was again nod.

“And now, just like our dear angel here…” Niles’ hand moved down to the demon’s immaculately-kept pussy as he spoke, and Duncan could see her hips bucking as he did, desperately wanting to be filled, “…you need to be punished.”

With that, Niles raised his hand high and struck. He could have been wearing the glove all along, or he could have slipped it on after sitting on the bed, but all of a sudden Duncan noticed the black glove with silver spikes that Niles had on his right hand.

The glove made contact with the red-headed demon’s ass, and even through the gag Duncan could hear her hissing with pain.

Pain, and pleasure.

As Niles’ hand moved away, Duncan could see the damage—some of the spikes had gone deep enough to draw blood. Niles looked down at his victim with a cruel, loving leer—as she buckled with pain, he moved his other hand between her legs and plunged two fingers deep into her wetness.

Within a few seconds she was cumming, grimacing with pleasure and twisting around the librarian’s fingers.

Niles turned to face Duncan, a dark look on his face.

“Your turn.”