The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Empress spun lazily in her chambers observing the glinting trophies of the four nations and beyond. The great axe of a Vorenth barbarian king, a giant pearl from the Sea States, the great mirrored skull over her fireplace, and the rest. The whole hollow palace was filled with such treasures, all so... boring. She once again debated leaving, to take a grand and exciting trip... but that meant a full cycle.

Her uncle, the Grand Vizier, would enforce the sacred laws. She would be forced to spend equal time in each nation. For each sunny day spent relaxing near the waters of some north-eastern city-state meant one in the dark halls with the insufferable Arath monks. Every wonderful ball spent with masked Fletcher nobles meant a night spent with the Vorenth and their... actives.

The Vorenth were worth avoiding. The tribes each had different traditions but all their festivities seemed to involve getting overly drunk and picking fights with one another, until finally some beast was dragged before a bonfire and gutted. During her last visit, as a guest of honor, was handed a raw heart. “Oh thank you this is just what I wanted.” She giggled a bit, it clearly had been too long... the memories of Vorenth tribesmen were becoming silly instead of absolutely horrifying.

As usual, a servant had prepared a glass of wine in her favorite ornate goblet. She picked up the cup next to her bed and schemed. She brainstormed ways of bending Sacred Law... if she came to Fletcher last... and there was an accident, the tragic death of some servant, she would have to spend more time there. Preparations for the funeral and such... it couldn’t be helped. Her thoughts shifted as she sipped the drink-

Wrong.

She was furious. This bitter drink wasn’t her wine at all! The servant responsible would be beaten severely. No, worse! The servants here were given the highest honor, of serving her, in the holy city. Putting on her shoes in the wrong order or not fanning her fast enough... those deserved beatings. Giving her the wrong drink, this was unacceptable. She would have to send a message. Whomever was responsible... would have his hands cut off.

She called to her guards... tried to, but her voice failed her, it came out as a soft whisper. Her vision swam and wavered, she sat on her bed and her glass tumbled to the floor.

“Feeling a bit light headed?” said a voice from across the room. The figure in black robes wasn’t looking at her, instead he was gazing up above the fireplace at the black dragon skull.

“What... how... how long have you been here?” she questioned.

“Longer than you,” he said.

“No,” she said. That wasn’t right, he hadn’t been in the room when she had come in... had he? It didn’t matter, and with the most force she could gather she yelled, “Get out!” Yet it was barely audible.

“No.” He walked towards her.

“Get away!” she pleaded as he grabbed her around the throat. “You... you can’t! You’ll be killed!” To touch the Empresses means certain death.

He grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, and poured a tiny bottle of liquid into her mouth.

“Swallow,” he said.

She didn’t want to, but she did. It burned like fire and ice, but she swallowed it instantly. She couldn’t help herself.

He still held her by the throat and pushed her back on her bed. Soon her whole body began to pulse and tingle. Whatever this was, it was magical. Which shouldn’t be, as she should have been immune. The Arath monks had warded her under her father’s command. The man ignored this impossibility, and started to paw at her body.

He pulled at her dress, revealing her ample bosom. Then he kissed her. She wanted to push him away, hit him, or bite him for violating her in this way. Instead she moaned lewdly and kissed him back.

Compelled, she continued passionately kissing. Then alarm bells went off in her mind as his hand snaked under layers of clothing toward her crotch. Before she could react, his fingers reached her nether regions and her body was flooded with pleasure.

“You like that don’t you,” he said it not as a question but like a statement of fact... which it was. She desperately pulled at him as her body undulated in pleasure.

“Please,” she begged, but for what? She wanted him gone, dead, his head put on a stake outside the city walls... all as she attempted to grind herself further into his hand... but he only teased her. His fingers only faintly touched her lower lips... but it was more than enough.

“Tell me what you want,” he said as he pushed her down and climbed on top of her.

“No...” she whimpered back as she tugged at him. She held him tightly as his mouth worked at her ear, her neck, her nipples... driving her mad with need.

“Oh gods, that feels, amazing...” she said. “This can’t be happening,” she thought.

“Tell me what you want,” he said again as she ground her hips against him. Her body was on fire, and she wanted more. She needed more.

“Take me, fuck me, please” she pleaded. He laughed.

“You should know, when I take you, you’ll be bound to me forever,” he said as he removed the last of their clothing. “The magic is powerful in this room, in this bed... you’ll be my slave forever.”

Terror rose in her, she had already experienced his magic powers, so she believed he wasn’t bluffing. The idea disgusted her and brought her back to her senses. She was meant to rule, and the world should serve her. Being a slave was an unthinkable idea.

“I... no... oh no, why? Why are you doing this to me?” She wanted to push him away. Her body wouldn’t obey. He was on top of her, and her naked legs were opening for him, allowing him true access.

“Get off me you fucking monster, I want nothing to do with—” she cried out and then stopped.

She could feel his shaft rub against the outside of her gates. The feeling drove her wild. The need returned stronger than ever. Her heart and mind were consumed with hunger.

He teased her, rubbing his cock there. She pressed to take him in, but she was held down by his weight. She could only moan and grovel.

“Tell me,” he said. She knew what he wanted. She didn’t want to say it, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Please...” she begged, looking into his eyes, “take me, do it. I don’t care if it makes me your whore, your slave... I need it.”

He positioned himself with one hand and then, slammed into her with one hard thrust, slick with her need.

“Oh, yes,” she yelped in ecstasy. Her whole being was washing over with pleasure and a sense of belonging. As much as she fought, she couldn’t deny how good it felt.

Even worse, she found herself whispering to him like some common whore, “Fuck me, harder, I love it, its so good...” She couldn’t stop herself. Every time he drove into her, it was like a battering ram against the walls of her mind, of her very being.

“When my seed enters you,” he said, “it will all be over, you’ll be nothing. The fraud Empresses will be my whore.”

“I couldn’t.... no one could... ,” she said between moans. How could he know? No one knew.

“It doesn’t matter, as I finish, you will be nothing but my bitch, my slave.” She felt the magic forming around her like chains. There was no doubt that if she didn’t stop him before he released his essence in her, her life was over.

“You want that, don’t you?”

“No I don’t!” She shouldn’t. She was the Great Empress. She threw away lives like rags. She wanted him buried alive. She wanted to dance on his grave.

“Yes I do,” she moaned, because it was true too. “Take me, make me yours!” She wanted to be claimed, to be enslaved... the very idea made her sex quiver.

He continued to rock into her, and his thrusts became harder and faster. Part of her mind pleaded with her body to stop. To stop being an agent in her own destruction. She was disgusted with herself, her reactions, yet she pushed her nether regions to meet his every motion.

“Oh fuck yes, yes!” she screamed. Her voice had betrayed her, it worked to turn him on and coax the cum into her, to bind her to slavery.

“Do it, please, fuck me, cum, make me your whore, your slut, your slave, your bitch.”

She closed her eyes. What was she saying? ”No, gods no,“ she thought. In her mind she continued to plead, with the world, the gods, her body. She wished this was all a dream, that she wasn’t being raped. That she wasn’t loving being raped. That as he fucked her, cum in her, she wouldn’t be his slave. She opened her eyes and he was still there.

She felt his body tense and start to jerk. “No, please no!” she pleaded to him, but it was too late. She felt his cum splash inside her, wave after wave. As he continued to pour himself inside of her, she grabbed him and held like a lost sailor holding onto a piece of flotsam. She kissed him, their tongues swirling like her soul.

She shut her eyes. The feeling broke her last bastion of resistance. The pleasure of her loins sucked away the woman of iron and steel. She died, a death of personality; a suicide, as she aided with every hump, every kiss, and every whisper of her lust. It felt wonderful.

“Ughhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhh!” She gave out one last desperate moan, a moan of complete submission.

She was his. He was everything... and she, nothing. When she opened her eyes she didn’t see a man, she saw her Master.

“Thank you, Master, thank you for making me your slave.”

He looked at her and said, “Get on top.”

“Yes my lord,” she said.She placed each knee to either side, perching herself over him.

“Master thank you for letting me take your member into my unworthy folds.” She guided it past her gates then quickly impaled herself with the rest.

“I live to please you,” she said, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the honor he bestow on her. She slowly rose and fell, moving his cock in and out of her. Her arms were in her hair or feeling her pert nipples. He seemed to barely move as she rode him.

“Ughhh yes master, I live to serve you!” she said. Tears of joy streamed down her face. She was the single luckiest person in the world.

“I will do anything you want,” she promised, and it was true.

She screamed her thank-yous and pledges of submission louder as he stayed quiet. She sweated hard riding him... it seemed so very right to her, very right indeed that she do all the hard work.

When fallen-queen awoke in the morning she felt incredibly embarrassed... She carefully slipped out of bed and knelt. It was wrong to be sleeping in the bed with Him.

The floor was uncomfortable and cold... it was just right. She knelt with her knees apart, her breasts pushed forward, and her head down. There she sat for hours, but it felt like seconds.

When he awoke he stood in front of her and allowed her to lick him.

“I will tell you my plans and you will do as I say.”

She didn’t respond because her mouth was being used for other purposes. She licked and sucked to give him pleasure while her hands worked for herself. Towards the end he grabbed her head and started to thrust into her mouth. She relished the feeling of being controlled and being used.

And when he finished she swallowed everything. This filled her with joy, but she experienced a sinking worry he might never fuck her again. She didn’t deserve him nor his seed, and it was well within his right to withhold it from her lowly self.

She helped him dress, while she still stood naked. He departed and left her with a simple command. No one could be allowed to know that anything was different. She would be the Great Empress in front of all others. When he left she called for her servants. In her heart she was dethroned, pulled from her false superiority and set in her proper place. However, his plans required her to act the part.

At night, in the secrecy of her chambers, she could be her true self. She would sleep naked on the floor, like a true slave. Then every morning she fingered herself to the idea of being allowed to service him.