The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was an accident, as these things often are. No normal person wakes up one day, wishing the world controlled, or the next-door nation crushed. A series of events, usually accidental, or at least with no mal-intent, can lead people onto a path that can be met with the disapproval of others. This certainly doesn’t make the path evil. But as is so often the case, the further the scales tip towards what society would interoperate as ‘evil’, the more desperate the cry for balance. And a supernatural artefact can often push circumstances towards the side of evil.

A mugger, for example, is met with two policemen in a car. A hostage situation calls for a SWAT team. So an evil of supernatural means often calls for a champion of supernatural goodness.

Perhaps not as wildly known or acknowledged, the supernatural forces in the world wage war for dominance and suppression. The world is ‘saved’ a million times over, and the small team of heroes charged with preventing the apocalypses face yet another all consuming horror every other week. It is accepted and ignored, because much like London Below, once this secret existence is accepted, if can often be too hard to escape from.

Supernatural artefacts are littered throughout the world, many of which are simply misunderstood or not used to their full potential. Did the captain of the football team, for example, realise that his lucky socks, which sometimes help him win games, could boil the blood of his opponents if utilised correctly? Ladders are often cursed by ironic forces, so that walking under one will not only bring bad luck, but also boils, impotence, and a visit from the tax man. It’s wildly known in the world of the supernatural that picking a four-leaf clover puts you at the top of the list of every telephone salesperson across India. Lucky?Not so much.

Some artefacts are more powerful that others of course—the incorrect use of one in the United States once caused a monkey to super-evolve and take power over the whole country—and often extreme power can lead to extreme rarity. The Mangled Hand of Mama Jim, for example, has not been seen in some 914 years, believed to have been taken to the grave by one Henry the Lion. Though scattered throughout this earthly realm, these wondrous items have a habit of all turning up at similar intervals in time, especially when they have mystical connections, such as the Four Rings of Mad Tarrin.

Mad Tarrin (who was born Matt Tarrin, but changed his name at around the same time his mental health slipped into psychosis) started life as a scientist, who attended a sorcery class every Tyr’s Day at the local university, which gave him his first taste of the ‘dark arts’. Taking an interest that was less- than-healthy, Mad was quickly seduced by the promises of great power, sending him mad, and after several years of magical education, began to construct his rings.

Mad believed, as a scientist, that existence was governed by four interlocking entities, and that they could only exist together. The human body was a machine, but was also a shell, and was the first element. The other three resided inside that shell. They were the brain, which governed logic, stopping the body from jumping head first off a cliff. Emotions, which were all separate entities inside the body which fought for dominance, and finally the soul, which tied the other three elements together and gave existence a purpose.

Mad was completely wrong. Students of the supernatural have constructed entire books worth of counter-arguments that disprove both Mad’s theory and sanity. Mad was, after all, mad. But to say his science was wrong said nothing about his ability to wield magic. He finished his four rings, a combination of basic science and advanced magic, and used them to enslave his entire town, each ring being able to control its separate ‘element’. He was eventually slayed by a young man with a large sword, and his rings were disposed of in the simplest and most effective of way of the time; thrown in a river.

That was not the end of their story though, as supernatural artefacts rarely stay hidden forever. Emerging throughout history, the rings have been used by great tyrants, who, in true megalomaniac fashion, often become far too dependant on their power and are destroyed by a hero of magic, one who can usually be described as both young and preppy. The rings tried their hardest to fall into the hands of powerful, evil men, hoping that their would-be owner would take on a world wide search for the other rings, finally reuniting them. Thankfully for the mortal men of the world, this hasn’t happened, and is even less likely to happen in this story.

It can’t be stressed enough that what happened was an accident. The economical recession (one of the few bad things in this world not caused by supernatural beings) had forced Old Man Marley to shut up his magic pawn shop, pack up his belonging and move back in with his mother, who was the ripe old age of 354. Old Man Marley had packed all this belongings into his Volvo estate, which included strapping several boxes to the roof rack, and set off for home, and simply didn’t noticed when the one rings he had on display had bounced up out of his roof rack and landed at the side of the road next to Plexi-Glass.

Plexi-Glass had also been hit with the recession, which was why they had to let Bailey, one of their youngest and most recently employees, go. She had only been working for a few months as an office administrator, and was the first of many to be chopped. It was her anger at loosing her job that was causing her to walk quickly, which led to her right heel breaking on the way back to her car. Cursing, she turned to retrieve her broken heel and spotted, on the floor, a ring, and in a moment of selfishness, grabbed it off the floor and thrust it into her bag, along with the broken heel, limping back to her car.

So you see, it really was an accident.

Bailey was good looking, and lazy. A socialite, she had spent most of her school years staring in plays, playing sports, gossiping with friends and teasing boys. None of these activities helped her in exams, and she ended up at the less desirable of the local colleges. It was there that she had learnt, once again, absolutely nothing, throwing all of her energy into being loved by all of her new classmates. Bailey’s great, they’d say, Bailey’s awesome, she’s just not going anywhere.

And she didn’t. After college, her savings were blown on a few tasty holidays, and it wasn’t long before Bailey was sitting at home with no money, no job, and no prospects.

But at least she was pretty.

Bailey was 5′7, with long, brown hair that had a slight natural curl. She kept it parted centrally, to frame her face, which was soft. Her slim neck led to a body of moderate athleticism, and a bosom of D cup breasts. She was slim yet curvy; both practical and aesthetically pleasing. She was experienced with men and knew what she liked, being both socially and sexually active, she had developed quite an apatite for sex. Again, not one of these things helped her get a job, so reduced to minimum wage administration, she had found Plexis-Glass, and begrudgingly worked there for 5 months, before being handed her P45 and a mumbled apology.

It was fair to say that Bailey hadn’t taken well to the employment situation she had found herself in, and after a few glasses of wine to calm her nerves (and in the middle of the day, probably send her to sleep) she was sat at the kitchen table examining her new ring.

It looked gold, but it was dramatically light. There was a black line all the way round, which repeated a pattern of triangles interlocking. It was simple, yet could still be fashionable with a smart/casual outfit.

Bailey looked down at her clothes, pouting. She wore a black skirt to her knees and a white blouse, her usual working attire. This is smart casual, she thought, and in her depressed state, slipped the ring onto her right middle finger. It was a comfortable fit, and she quickly forgot it was there. Her depression, and another two glasses of wine, eventually caused to her walk (slowly, with a slight stumble) to the local shop on the next street for cigarettes, where her first curious exchange occurred.

Bailey was at the counter, leaning on it with one hand, when the shopkeeper asked her, “Why are you here so early?” he leaned forward to smell her. “Are you drunk?!”

The invasion of privacy and outright rudeness of the shopkeeper infuriated Bailey. “That’s none of your fucking business!” She cried to an empty shop, and a stern-faced Turkish man. “I’m your only fucking customer! You should be happy that I’m here!”

The face of Ramon, the shopkeeper, suddenly exploded into a large, toothy grin. his eyes showed genuine delight as he looked at Bailey’s, which were not open all the way. “But I am, Madam!” He cried, his arms lifting into the air as if he’d just jumped out of a cake. “I am overjoyed that you are here! I am so sorry, I did not meant offend you! Please, how can I help?!”

Ramon lent forward on his counter, his smiling face slightly blurred in Baileys vision. Her right hand was tingling, and she wasn’t sure why. Sarcastic fuck she thought, and narrowed her eyes. “Just give me some fucking cigarettes! And a lighter!” she demanded

Ramon quickly presented them to her, placing his hand on hers that was holding her up on the counter. “On the house! Please! No money from you, pretty lady!” He was practically shouting in her face. She didn’t argue, snatching the cigarettes and lighter, and marching diagonally out of the shop and back towards her house. The idea that the situation was odd was pushed out of her head by the frustration of not being able to light her cigarettes in the wind, forcing her to wait until she got back to her flat.

A few more glasses of wine and some half-smoked cigarettes later, Bailey fell asleep at around 5.30pm, the time she usually got home from work.

Bailey woke to a headache as her alarm went off at 8am. She felt a lot better at 11.30am, when she eventually get out of bed. She also felt different. Bailey was usually such a kind and happy person, but today she felt selfish. She was on a high horse, and not that sure why. She didn’t want to go out and get a job, she wanted the job to come to her. She didn’t want to make food, she wanted someone to do it for her. She wanted to be waited on. She wanted Luci.

Tired, pissed off and hung-over, she fell in front of her computer and clicked onto instant messenger, seeing which over lowlifes were still at home that day. of the few that were online she could only stand two. One was set to ‘Away’, and the other was Luci.

Luci, who insisted on spelling her name with an ‘I’, was Bailey’s hairdresser, manicurist and beautician. She worked from home and made a fair wage, travelling to people houses and doing whatever they liked doing to their hair, so they could stay in front of the TV and Luci didn’t have to clean up afterwards. Her screen name was ‘@@Luci@@—Pretti and mobile! All hairs done!’

After the initial ‘How R U?’s, Luci asked Bailey why she was home in the day. After a small chat, Luci had decided to come and visit Bailey to give her a “make up cheer up!”

Half an hour later, Bailey was sat in front of her mirror dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and underwear, being pampered by Luci who was talking constantly about the people she knew who had lost their jobs.

“Luce, you’re not exactly making me feel better.” Bailey sighed.

Luci did not stop. “Come on, it’s okay, you’ll find something, look at me, I’m not the smartest girl in the world but now I make good money, self-whatever, you know, I take care of myself, I’m actually doing really well—”

“Again, Luce, not helping!” Bailey spoke with more conviction this time. Luci stopped pampering for a minute and looked at Bailey in the mirror, smiling intently. “Sorry honey! I’m just so damn happy at the moment!”

Bailey sunk lower in her chair, wincing at the remains of her hangover. “I wish you were really depressed like me.”

It was a selfish comment, but Bailey had every right to feel a bit selfish after her loosing her job. She didn’t really put any thought into saying it; it just popped out. But it came so suddenly, and Bailey felt it. She felt a strong tingle in her right hang, like pins and needles, and shook it, but didn’t change, and she felt the ring do something. For a split second she wasn’t sure what, until she looked at Luci face in the mirror, watching her smile fade away to a deep pout, her bottom lip sticking out and quivering slightly. Her eyes had lost all of their spark, and her hands, which had been about to clip Bailey’s hair, fell to her side.

She looked at Bailey in the mirror and tears formed in her eyes. “Oh God!” she sobbed, “I’m feel so bad for you Bailey!” and wrapped her arms around her, burying her head in Baileys shoulder, giving her an awkward hug from both above and behind her.

Bailey was still looking in the mirror. She was watching Luci with wide eyes, still feeling the ring tingle her hand. She had felt the ring react to her words, the tingle in her hand was a side effect, but she knew deep down that it had reacted to her words and caused Luci to feel ‘really depressed’. She had felt the emotional change. All traces of hangover were gone, and Baileys mind was flowing a mile a minute. “You okay, Luci?”

Luci replied between sobs. “Yeah...no...I’m just so...argh!...so unhappy!”

Bailey’s eyes were wider than they’d ever been, but they quickly narrowed. The selfishness that had awoken inside of her seemed to grow with the tingling. She looked at the ring on her finger. It was just there; it wasn’t glowing, or moving, it was just...there. Was she being stupid? Could Luci had just fell apart for another reason? There was only one way to find out.

Luci was a generally happy person, so acting happy, even if she wasn’t, was her default. To experiment, Bailey would need to make Luci feel something different than happy or sad. What else is there.......Shit, I can’t think!

She made up her mind...having been put on the spot, she couldn’t really think of many emotions, but she knew that’s what the ring had done, it had messed with Luci’s emotions. She didn’t know how, or how she knew, she just knew.

“It’s your fault I lost my job, Luci, you’re really guilty“ Baileys hand tingled again.

Luci’s head snapped up from Bailey’s shoulder. She fell to her knees, no longer sobbing but crying powerfully now. Her beautiful face was red and puffy, her eyes full of shame. She crawled round to kneel in front of Bailey. “Bailey please!” she bawled, “I didn’t mean it! I don’t know what I did! I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry!”

“Your guilt overwhelms you,” Bailey replied. Luci was howling. The tears were pouring down her face as she buried it into Bailey’s leg. She was moaning incoherently, clutching her t-shirt.

Bailey sat and watched in cold silence. The realisation that she could control Luci’s emotions was a large and shocking discovery, yet Bailey felt calm. Collected. Selfish.

Bailey saw a short term answer to her problems sitting right in front of her. The ring was showing her the path, it was time to take the first step. She spoke to Luci in a calm voice.

“You’ve cost me my job,” watching Luci shriek into her leg, “I cant afford to stay here. What will I do?”

Luci looked up, almost recognisable, drowning in horrible emotions. “I’ll pay! I’ll pay your rent!”

Bailey smiled. “Can you afford both our rents?”

Luci answered by howling again, and collapsing further into Bailey’s lap.

“Move in with me then. Move in and pay the rent for me.” Seeing Luci between her legs, weak, vulnerable, and willing, caused thoughts of sexual domination to dance through her head. Was lust an emotion? Could it be controlled? She would have to find out. “You’ll feel a lot happier if you move in with me.”

She looked up. “I will?”

“Yes. I’ll forgive you, if you come live with me, and pay my rent. You won’t feel guilty any more.

There was a pause where Luci considered the overwhelming feelings of remorse and blame surged through her. Her stomach was fluttering so much she thought she may be sick, tears couldn’t help but run down her face. She wanted to fall onto her bed and cry forever. “I don’t ...want...to feel...”

“I know you don’t, sweetie, so come live with me, or the guilt will eat you up and you’ll feel like this forever.”

Luci nodded her head slowly. “O...Okay...”

Bailey was smiling at her. “You feel happy about this, Luci. It’s the right thing to do.”

A half smile pulled at Luci’s face. “Happy...”

Bailey leaned forward, still grinning. “We’re going to be roomies!Now go pack, quick! The sooner you move in, the sooner you feel better!”

Luci nodded again, stood up and quickly jumped out of the door. As soon as she left, Bailey plunged her hand into her soaking twat and quickly fingerfucked herself to a massive orgasm.