The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Risa slept and dreamed. She was lying on the grass in a meadow, looking up at the sky. There was nothing to do, nothing to be, nothing calling her. Totally in the present, there were no distractions—not even thought.

She watched as the sky began to swirl; a gentle whirlpool of color, reaching down to her, as she felt herself become the focus on the bottom of an ocean of air. The swirling began to quicken, and then slowed and pulled away again.

Somewhere inside of herself, she realized her breathing was pulling on the sky. As she breathed inward, the swirling sky quickened and lowered, like a soft tornado, reaching nearly to her nostrils. She became aware of a craving to breathe it in.

She discovered that if she breathed in hard and quickly, letting it out slowly, that the swirling sky did not diminish as much... she began to breathe to pull it into her... her body pulling and pulling to get the taste of... >something< inside of herself.

Then, as if a light came on, she breathed in... and there was no need to breathe out. Her lungs became a vacuum, pulling in the essence of the sky in one unending, glorious breath...

In a moment of realization, she felt that she was in her own bed, and saw that she was blankly staring at the ceiling. She did not remember falling asleep, or waking up. It was more a vision or a waking dream that had consumed her, drawing her in, to show her something mysterious and wonderful. She felt, for the first time in her life, both satisfied and full of clarity.

Looking back at the events of the last few days, Risa was somehow, innately, beginning to understand the mysterious process. The “rules” were complicated and a bit convoluted, but the reality of her experience made it much easier to understand... inevitable to accept.

The most important of these, at least to Risa, was a rite of ascension through the death of Kalabuzdi, as there had been with those who came before her. Upon her death, the next person “infected” by a Breath-Maker would rise to become the next “queen.”

Rationally, Risa could still tell that it sounded tenuous at best. Yet here she was, her blood burning, her need to create her tribe coursing through her veins more strongly with every moment. Through the rapture that she felt increasingly washing through her, Risa had a brief moment of realization that she was as much trapped in her destiny as Stacey was, along with everyone Kalabuzdi had “recruited”. Then, the moment was gone, her opinions no longer of any consequence, stronger compulsions now chanting endlessly inside her rapidly surrendering mind.

And, for lack of a word that fit, she felt... hungry.

Stacey still lay beside her, her pearlescent eyes of green staring upward at nothing. Risa was not one for automatons, for mindless robots of flesh. Although Stacey was capable of bringing Risa to shattering orgasms thanks to her oblivious ministrations, Risa found herself wanting someone who could interact... improvise, provide surprises. Besides, Stacey’s current state made it impossible for Risa to return the favor.

Knowing instinctively what needed to be done, Risa kissed across the face of her loving, enslaved researcher, and pressed her lips to the subtle moistness of the girl’s own facial labia... and breathed a piece of the sky into her.

Now, there was nothing that Risa could do for Stacey but wait for the change. In the meantime, she had work to do, and she picked up the telephone, dialing a number she could just barely remember.

Dr. Jessop didn’t know what to say. Her old classmate Risa Latham was on the phone, telling her what had to be the strangest story she had ever heard. While slightly incredulous, she listened patiently and intently, on the chance that it might be true.

Once the closest of friends, in the time since medical school and residency they had managed very little contact except through email and websites. Time had done to them what it does to so many, and they had lost track of each other except for the occasional note. Dr. Jessop knew that Risa had gone to work for the government, bypassing what had promised to be a lucrative career. Specializing in associative disorders, she had been a brilliant young co-intern as well as personal confidant. Distance and time had not changed her affection.

And now, quite suddenly, here was Risa, telling her a story that sounded a little like something from a third-rate science fiction novel. It was full of government conspiracies to kill a patient they thought was dangerous, a patient that Risa had helped escape. Regardless, if true, she had no choice but to help her friend, and the patient in question.

“Risa, if this is some kind of silly joke...” began Dr. Jessop, but Risa cut her off.

“No, really, Pam... I’ve never been more serious in my life!” blurted Risa.

“But why would you need a gynecologist? I don’t think I have the skills to help you with this case. Besides, I don’t have half the knowledge you had even when you were in school,” worried Pam.

“Whatever this is, Pam, it’s systemic. A gynecologist has as much training as any other doctor, and I need help—Stacey is a very ill young woman. I wouldn’t be surprised at all to find that she’s been given some kind of slow-acting poison or other nasty chemical agent. You’ve just got to help me figure this one out...”

“Okay, Risa, count me in. But if I get caught in something illegal, I’ll say you forced me at gunpoint.” The smile in her voice carried easily over the telephone line.

“Agreed, Pam,” laughed Risa. “Thanks... you don’t know how much you’re helping my goal—er—of helping this patient! We’ll be right over!”

With that, Dr. Pamela Jessop hung up the phone, a shadow of both interest and concern crossing her face. How very odd, she thought, as she walked out of her office.

Pam looked at the woman lying on the examination table. If she had fostered doubts before, they were erased now. The girl was definitely not well, and there was something not quite natural about it. In truth, she had never seen anything like it, at least in real life. So much for cheap science fiction, she noted.

Of course, there were the eyes... pearlescent and green, as if she were shining a light into a cat’s eyes at night. There was something else, too, buzzing around in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite place it; something nagging at her thoughts.

She began her examination by checking for motor reflexes, response to stimulation and other signs of present consciousness. Stacey could react to guided manipulation, such as holding her head where Pam placed it, but did not appear to have reflexive reactions based on external stimuli. Pam noticed the odd mix of vulnerability and strength, and found herself almost feeling a kind of muted admiration for the unresponsive woman. Vulnerable because she had no protection, strong because nothing seemed to affect her. It had a kind of mystique, almost... erotic, although Pam was not sure the adjective fit. Even so, she let her eyes wander up and down the naked female, and was slightly surprised to find her hands shaking.

Looking in Stacey’s ears, but finding nothing, Pam moved quickly to her eyes. Although they seemed cloudy with green iridescence, they reacted normally to light. Next she looked into the girl’s nostrils, and into her mouth and throat, but couldn’t find anything that would indicate an infection. Feeling the girl’s breath against her face, the doctor felt a surge of warmth move down her body and let herself enjoy the intimacy of the moment... immediately feeling guilty and returning to her objective analysis.

The swimming thoughts in the back of her head were getting annoying now... clearly stronger... they were almost audible as she continued to look over the green-eyed researcher, noting that Stacey’s state almost seemed like a form of autism. She took a step back and shook her head. Letting her eyes again creep down Stacey’s body, Pam realized her nipples were becoming erect. The strange hum in her head was starting to throb, and it was affecting her ability to think clearly. Her hands moved to her breasts, as if to rub dirt off her lab coat, and she shivered as the touch sent sparks of pleasure to her moistening folds.

What a sexy woman, mused Pam, blushing as she caught herself flushing with the tendrils of unfamiliar arousal. She paused at the foreign feelings of sapphic desire and, blinking her eyes a few times, somehow managed to get her wandering thoughts back to a professional level.

Almost.

Pam pulled out her dictation recorder and began to speak into it. “Subject is thirty-four years old, Caucasian, with associative disorders similar to autism, which appear to be caused by being so damned cute—um, I mean caused by non-biological agents, at least on first examination.” Pam frowned to herself at the distraction and nuisance of her wandering, rebellious thoughts. But so nice, the voices inside her whispered.

“The condition doesn’t appear to be natural—perhaps caused by a chemical agent ground into her... her... cunt by searching, needy fingers—no, strike that. Introduced to her orally, from the... the lips of my hot little slit—I mean, by pill or perhaps even hypodermic.”

What the fuck is wrong with me? Pam shouted inwardly, before attempting to relax and continue. “Stacey is possibly under the influence of some mind altering... mind altering...” Pam fought to find the right word now, feeling profoundly shaken and dizzy, “...ORGASM! Fucking HOT orgasm from a slick little burning pointed tongue like mine!” she suddenly blurted out.

Now visibly shaken, she quickly turned off the dictation machine and tried again to collect herself. Her brain was alive with harmonic phasing now, her thoughts coming faster than she could keep pace. Thoughts of sex... so delicious... so nasty... so wonderfully perverted... Dear God I have to quit this... I have to finish my initial report... analyze... observe... fuck... tongue...cum with her... help her... cum... burnnnn...

Her heavily dilated eyes now gazed at Stacey with dread and pure burning lust, locked in an unholy marriage of thoughts that were dissipating like sprinkled confetti around Pam’s exhausted defenses. Her nipples were a blazing torrent of need, a need she was unable to ignore... pulling her... ripping into her eyes and mind and pussy and clit and body and soul like a sexual ball of hot plasma.

Struggling to gain control of the raging wildfire within her, she breathed slowly and deeply to try and ease her building passion. Desperately she tried to push down the lascivious, brazen thoughts, but her years of trained analytical objectivity betrayed her, abandoned her, and she could not call it back, could not remember how.

She tried to scream away the lustful, intruding thoughts that were taking over her mind, but all that would come forth was a sound she only knew by her effort was her own. She could hear her moans as they left her mouth, rippling down her body and through the charged air... and still she fought for control, for something to grasp that would pull her up from the deadly quicksand of her explosive fucklust.

Then she found it, the branch she needed, the saving grace of reason... only to have it turn and ravage her with a thousand million tongues of mocking sexual depravity and wanton pleasure.

Looking in vain for anything familiar to save her from the sensual avalanche, she blindly turned on the dictation machine again, and began to babble into it, “Secondary causes of... slut cumming mind fire... inoculation of... anal violation... ecstatic mucous membrane... medically necessary... tongue fucking... no... treatment of same... hot flowing juices... cumming hard... nerve endings... no control... cummmmm together... ”

Somewhere deep inside, with the last remaining part of her that knew she was in trouble, she fought to find safety. Her fear was a sandy beach washed with waves of unquenchable desire. Her eyes filled with panic and desperation, but it was impossible to tell if it was desperation to back away, or to plunge carelessly onward; in fact, they were exactly, irrationally, the very same thing.

Pam staggered back in confused, raw heat, her mind splintering. Looking up, it appeared that the light on the ceiling was glowing with orange and green streamers cascading away from it... making her sex begin to emit a stream of electric jolts in concert with the colors that were both compelling and alien... powerfully relentless and irresistible.

Her legs began to buck with the culmination of the attack on her pleasure centers, her fingers and toes out of control with ecstatic spasms. Too disoriented to think, too possessed to move, the last tiny fragment of self-preservation suddenly leapt out from a pocket in her mind, crashing her body to the floor and forcing the door open, even as her body caved in to the orgasmic mind-numbing fire that was the apex of the assault. Her moans transformed to unearthly screams of universal passion and bliss, and her eyes saw only the pinwheeling colors of unstoppable pleasure that was now her world...

As her mind began to clear from the rapturous episode, Pam looked up to see Risa standing in the doorway above her. Expecting to see alarm in her friend, some sign of help, she shriveled as the reality of her situation swept over her... manifested in Risa’s wide, knowing smile.

Risa reached down to take her friend’s hand, and, helping her slowly to her feet, guided her back to the table. Pressing Dr. Jessop gently over, she guided the pliant doctor’s head until her lips were a scant half-inch from Stacey’s own.

“It’s easy, isn’t it, Pam,” reassured Risa. “All you have to do is breathe...”

Pam screamed, biting into her fist again as she came so hard that she saw stars dance. Every time it was better and better... a gift from Risa that she could not deny herself. How long had it been since she gave herself to her Mistress? Certainly at least a week, but time had no real meaning to her at this point.

Just the thought of Risa... beautiful, irresistible Risa... made her juices flow even more strongly and her hot pussy yearn for another release. But Mistress had given her a duty, a solemn purpose she would have to accomplish before she could play again.

She got up from the examination table in her office, the musk of hot sex and arousal wafting behind her. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, and stopped to stare, taking a brief moment to reach inside her lab coat and sharply pinch her nipples. “So obscene, she thought, so hot...

She recognized the Heat-Giver in the reflection not as Pamela Jessop, but only as the property of her Mistress, and felt a shiver run through her body at the unspeakable honor of what she had been allowed to become. She slowly, reluctantly, let her hands fall to her sides in obedience to her mission.

She turned and left the room, walked out to the reception desk, and looked down the list of patients. Checking through the statistical questionnaires, she found what she was looking for. “Sheila Crandall?” she called. A young woman of perhaps twenty, with long brunette hair and a cute roundish face stood and walked to the door that led from the waiting area the examination rooms.

Pam smiled at the nervous woman, and said, “Just go on into Examination Room Three, and I’ll be with you in a moment.” Satisfied the woman could find the proper room, Pam slipped into the nearby stockroom for a moment. Picking up a douche, she remembered how long it had taken to collect enough of Mistress’ juices to mix effectively with the cleansing wash. She laughed for a moment, remembering her curiosity about Risa’s choice of a gynecologist to help her. Actually, it was perfect.

After knocking on the door and entering the room where Sheila waited, Pam instructed her to go into the adjoining bathroom and use the douche, prior to the examination. Sheila objected slightly, “But I used one before I came in, Doctor.”

“And I do appreciate it, but those products leave chemical traces that can corrupt any tests we do, if needed, and this will neutralize anything that might give us a false result.” Pam shrugged,” It’s really no big deal, and it’ll just take a minute, okay?”

Sheila nodded, apparently satisfied, and went into the bathroom to use the adulterated douche, while Pam went outside, checking her watch.

Risa’s sexual lubricants were the most potent of her mind-and-body altering secretions. After only ten minutes, Pam prepared herself to go in and harvest the new Breath-Maker. While true that it would take another day for Sheila to begin producing the Breath of Obedience, her mind would already be in the throes of deep and permanent change.

Even though she knew what she would find, she felt a rush of sexual pleasure race through her as she saw the partially transformed Sheila, writhing on the floor in a will-shattering orgasm that would become her only experience until Mistress decided to bring her back to consciousness, if ever.

Unable to stop her own burning passion, Pam slipped two fingers into her slick, satin wellspring of bliss, thumbing her clit, pressing and bruising it, taking herself farther and farther into ecstasy as she watched Sheila’s motions become more and more obscene. Pressing her other finger into her hot, clenching asshole, she let herself free into the unbound worlds for which she now constantly ached.

Pam felt her toes curl and her belly quake as she let the hot, pure waves of blissful worship and sexual abandon take over her body and soul, sending her into the realm of Kala—Spirit—where she found the Will of her Mistress guiding her, the Will of Kalarisa, pulling her ever deeper into need and surrender, shaking her soul with orgasmic creation, higher and higher, until she could remember nothing but Mistress... Kalarisa... and she passed into the oblivion of obedient rewards....

When she regained consciousness, Pam walked over to the still writhing Sheila, and placed the finger covered with her own sexual nectar to the young woman’s lips. Instantly, Sheila calmed, and her eyes opened, staring blankly upward, her orgasm internalizing, the writhing still uninterrupted in her newly remade mind.

Pam noted that her eyes were already beginning to show signs of the green crystals, a sign of who and what she was, and forever would be: Breath-Maker for Mistress Risa and her Heirs.

Taking the newborn Breath-Maker Sheila by the hand, she raised her gently to her feet, and guided her down the hallway to what had once been Examination Room Five, but had since been emptied, needed for a higher purpose. Pausing outside the entrance, she relished the sound of deep, unison breaths that issued softly through the door.

Pam opened the wide door and guided Sheila to a place on the wall, backing her up to it, and looked around. Sheila was joining five other Breath-Makers, ranging in age from sixteen to thirty-eight. Unable to help herself, Pam breathed deeply of the air that had consumed her will, relishing the even deeper surrender she felt galloping through her mind. Soon, as the Breath-Makers matured, it would only take seconds for the transformation from woman to Heat-Giver to transpire.

Reluctantly leaving the Breath-Makers to their unified task, Pam returned to her office and private examination table, where, placing her feet in the stirrups, bodily offered homage and obedience to the woman who was now the reason for her feeble existence... and as she began her climb back to the spirit-world, she softly joined the chant which was becoming her mantra...

“Rrrrrrreeeeeessssssssssaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh...”