The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I told Amber to drive, giving no directions. I needed to clear my head for a few minutes, and besides, I was nervous. Amber seemed to like being commanded, especially where I was blunt and assuming, giving no room for objection. I didn’t ask, I told; and she did. She pulled onto the main road and drove away from my neighborhood, heading towards the commercial plaza. After a few minutes she butted into my brooding.

“So where are we going?” Amber asked, her soft voice rising above the background music playing from the radio.

“I’ve got a special evening planned.” I hinted to her. “But I need to finish something first.” I explained, telling her about Kristine’s parents and the abuse they had been inflicting upon her.

“What a bunch of crazies.” She said. “I’ve seen Kristine around school, but I had no idea that kind of stuff was happening. Did they really flail the skin off her back?” She asked.

“I saw the gashes, some of them an inch across and several long. Not to mention the scars from past abuse. She was a real mess, and not just physically. I’m surprised she’s been able to function as well as she has in public. She’s an emotional wreck.”

“So how did you get involved?”

“Now that is a long story.” I began, explaining how my sister had always treated me like crap, and how it had only gotten worse in the last few years. I told her how things had escalated that evening, briefly mentioning how hurt I was by Haller’s death, and focusing on how she had harassed me over my date, and her insults towards my new girlfriend. Amber took it all quite stoically; even when I went on to describe the retribution I exacted upon them.

“I’m sorry your friend died.” She said, and I nodded to accept her sympathy. I hadn’t told her the details of his death, but I also didn’t want to frighten her. She surprised me by smiling. “I wish I could have seen you take Karen down. She’s gone after me more than a few times over the years, and I’m sure you didn’t give her back nearly as much as she gave out.”

I found myself grinning as well. “She was being remarkably compassionate towards me before I left. I really couldn’t figure it out. What’s her motive? Is she just so terrified of what I can do to her that she’s trying to placate me? Or is she honestly feeling guilty over the way she’s always treated me? Does she believe I will release her after the weekend, or is she afraid I’ll break my promise if she doesn’t act nice?”

“You probably won’t find out until you let her go. If she’s no longer under the threat of your power and she goes back to her regular attitude, then nothing has changed. But if she continues to act decently towards you, then at the very least she respects your power, and maybe has seen the error of her ways.”

I harrumphed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“So where does Kristine live?” Amber asked.

I pulled the directions out of my pocket and unfolded the paper. “Her house is at twenty-six fifty, Avon Park South.”

“That’s not too far. But it is the other direction.” She commented, turning into the mall parking lot and pulling back out the opposite way. “About five minutes.” She guessed.

It actually took almost ten minutes, but only because we hit every red light along the way. That was fine; it gave me more time to think. When we turned into the housing development I could see that it was an exclusive and wealthy neighborhood. There wasn’t a single house there that was worth less than three-hundred thousand, except maybe the guest houses attached to some of the more extravagant mansions. There were several of these.

And Kristine’s house was one of them, right at the rear of the development, with a wide front yard and a few hundred feet of space between it and the previous home. The other side of her house was against the edge of the forest that formed the boundary of the development. There might have been a pool enclosure in the backyard, but it was hard to see in the dark.

“Pretty well off, aren’t they?” Amber said. I nodded in silent agreement. “I thought she was from a rural community.” Amber said.

“So did I.” I said with a snort. “Maybe they won the lottery.”

“Stranger things have happened, and people can be funny about that sort of thing; they don’t like people know they’ve come into that sort of money.”

“I’d better get this over with.” I said, opening the door and stepping into the cool night air.

“Did you want me to come with you?” Amber asked.

“If you want to, then sure. It might be fun.” I told her. She turned off the car and climbed out after me. We started up the path together, the light from the street lights casting shadows across the walk. Amber stayed comfortably close to my side, and my arm held tightly between both of hers.

We came up to the door and I paused, turning to Amber. “Let me do the talking, and play along with whatever I say.” I told her. She nodded ascent and I rang the doorbell. There were already lights on in the house, and I could hear what sounded like a television sports broadcast. There were some muffled voices from inside.

“I think someone’s at the door.” One voice said, the feminine tones barely notable over the din of the television sports announcer and rampant background cheering from the crowd.

“Well go see who it is! Can’t you see I’m busy? The game is on!” Another voice replied, and this time it was definitely masculine.

I saw a light turn on just beyond the door and a shadow cross to the curtained window adjacent to us. The curtain was pulled back and a young woman peered out at us. Her youthful appearance was a surprise, because she hardly looked older than her daughter. Despite the lack of apparent age she definitely shared a resemblance. The same dirty blond hair fell around her face, highlighting the same blue eyes. She looked us over for a handful of seconds and then let the curtain drop back into place.

“Howard, it’s a couple of kids.” She said, walking over to the door and opening it, but leaving the screen in place. “What do you want?” She asked, obviously annoyed.

I read into her mind for a moment until I found her surname. “I need to speak with you and your husband about your daughter.” I said.

“What sort of nonsense is this?” She asked. “Who are you?”

“This is very important, Mrs. Hampton.” I assured her, nudging her ever so slightly.

“Well alright, you can step inside.” She said, opening the screen. “I’ll go and get my husband, but both of you can wait right here.” She told us, walking though what looked like a sitting room and into the den where the television was still blaring loudly.

“Did you see her clothes?” Amber whispered to me with a giggle. In fact, I had seen her outfit, and it was the very definition of prude. It showed less skin than my church clothes, and implied nothing about the figure beneath it. She also wore a cross on a chain around her neck.

Anything I might have said in reply was overridden by a sudden shout from the den. “Why did you let them in the door!?” The male voice from earlier was saying. “Damn it woman! I’ll be there in a minute.” He said.

Amber gave me a look of disgust. “I thought you liked being bossed around?” I asked her.

“Not by someone like that!” She whispered back. “I want to submit to someone who will take care of me, not someone who will just abuse me to make up for their own ineptitude.” Then she grinned. “That’s not to say that a little punishment isn’t welcome; it can be quite a bit of fun if you play right.” She said, her grin replaced with a sly smile. “But he sounds like the worst sort of uncaring person; definitely not someone I would give myself to.”

“What makes me any different?” I asked. Both of the Hamptons were now arguing in the den, apparently unaware of the two teens standing in their foyer.

“I don’t know. I just trust you to always care about me.” She said after a moment on honest consideration. “I mean, I know you could just be making me feel this way, but I really believe you would never hurt me. You’ve already proved you have absolute power over me, but even when you forced me to service you, when you might only have considered yourself, you took care of me as well. You made sure I enjoyed it, and made things right afterwards. You’re the kind of person I want to give myself to, because I trust you.”

“But you hardly know me.”

“I know, but I still trust you!” She took my hand in hers and her smile was radiant.

I suppose that I still had my doubts, because I found myself looking into her mind, sifting through her thoughts, trying to make sense of her proclamation. What I found there was fear; raw staving terror. She was terrified that I wouldn’t accept her, that I would reject her and force her to remain alone. She wanted desperately to give herself to me and to have that commitment be accepted. Her explanation helped me to understand why she latched so strongly onto me in the first place, but her continued fear was baffling. Had I not already claimed her as mine?

“I definitely want to talk to you when we’re alone later.” I told Amber, flashing a reassuring smile at her when she glanced worriedly at me. Mrs. Hampton was returning from the den, so I didn’t have time to say anything more.

“You might as well make yourselves comfortable. Go on and have a seat.” She told us, gesturing for us to enter the sitting room. I took a comfortable section on the couch and Amber sat close to my right, our sides touching. I could see that Mrs. Hampton took a serious dislike to us immediately after that display of affection. Her eyes narrowed and she harrumphed to herself. “I hope whatever you have to say isn’t a waste of our time.” She warned.

“I would like to wait until Mr. Hampton is present before I go into details.” I told her.

“How do you know Kristine?” She asked.

I considered for a full second whether I should come right out and tell her that I fucked her daughter and took her virginity, but I decided against it, for the moment. Instead I just shrugged off her question. “Again I would prefer to wait until Mr. Hampton is present, before I go into any details. That way I won’t be repeating half of what I have to say.”

That pissed her off. Not so much that I had rebuked her unsubtle inquiry, but that I was a teenage boy and had done so while in her home with a girl rubbing herself all over me. There was a part of me that felt bad for being so disrespectful. It was against the standards that I had been raised to. But there was also a part of me that felt justified. After all, I had seen the scars covering Kristine’s back firsthand.

Her husband finally came into the sitting room, dropping into a recliner next to his wife. He looked us over appraisingly, but without much interest. He had a gruff and unkempt look about him, with greasy black hair and a thick beard that, while being incredibly filthy, was at least marginally trimmed. He was also quite rounded, with a beer belly showing below his shirt, which was not large enough for his excessive weight. “It’s commercials. You’ve got five minutes to say your bit and get the hell out.” He said. I took an immediate disliking to him.

“What I have to say concerns your daughter. It’s come to my attention that she has been suffering abuse at your hands. I’m here to put a stop to that.” I told them flatly, my voice devoid of any emotion.

At first neither parent reacted. But after a moment Mr. Hampton very quickly changed from pale white to scarlet red and then to crimson fuchsia. “Get out!” He shouted while jumping to his feet. “Get the hell out of my house!” He looked quite upset, waving his hands around and pointing at us, as though there had been any doubt who he was yelling at.

“I will not get out, Mr. Hampton. Not until this problem is solved.” I told him calmly. “You can either sit back down while we work through this issue or you can face the rather unpleasant consequences.” I warned.

“Are you threatening me!?” He demanded. “Fucking punk!” He said, advancing on me. “I’ll beat the living hells out of you.”

I sighed and mentally forbid him from attacking either myself or Amber. Just as he lunged forward and struck at me with his fist, his feet moved out from underneath him, dropping him to the floor and rolling him away from me. He was shocked, but quickly recovered and came to his knees, swinging another punch at my head. His arm jerked back involuntarily, sending his blow wild. I lifted my leg and planted my foot on his chest, smiling as I did so, then pushed him hard, sending him onto his back. The man was bewildered.

Amber reacted quite naturally to the situation by giggling. It was not the most diplomatic thing in the world, but it was certainly appropriate. Mr. Hampton had regained enough of his senses that the fear driven fury had dissipated somewhat. He was still wary of me and what my knowledge could do to him, but he was less willing to attack me again.

“Marie.” He called to his wife as he got to his feet. “Call the police if they haven’t left in the next thirty seconds.” He said pointedly, walking back into the den without looking back.

“This is going incredibly well.” Amber commented with another radiant smile.

“Hush you.” I told her, matching her smile. She made a motion as though drawing a zipper across her mouth. I looked into the den, watching the retreating figure of Mr. Hampton as he moved down the hall. With a small exertion I sent a bolt of kinetic energy into the television, causing it to explode. I actually hadn’t expected it to explode. I wanted to smash it pretty badly, but the plasma screen went off like a grenade.

Luckily for Mr. Hampton he was still in the hall leading to the den. He was still thrown back several feet. I took the immediate action of reaching back in time several seconds and generating a bubble of kinetic energy around the house to dampen the sound. As soon as the television blew up I dropped the bubble and focused on the present.

Mrs. Hampton, who had just reached the phone, dropped it on the floor and ran into the den, answering her husband’s screaming with a worried tone. “Howard?” She called; rushing to his side and helping him sit up. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I don’t bloody know woman!” Howard responded, pushing her away. “Help me up.” He said, contradicting his earlier action. She pulled him to his feet.

I took the opportunity to push the phone across the carpet with another application of kinetic force, hiding it under a chair on the far side of the room. Amber raised her eyebrows to this but remained silent. “Later.” I promised her questioning look.

Howard and Marie stumbled back into the sitting room, and appeared almost surprised to see us still there.

“I trust you’re ready to talk.” I told them. “Otherwise your television will be the least of your concerns.” I informed them.

“That was you!?” Howard exclaimed. “Marie! Call the police right now.” He ordered.

His wife helped him to a chair and then turned around, only to find that the phone was no longer there. “It’s not here.” She said, stating the obvious.

“What?” Howard demanded.

“The phone has gone and disappeared.” She said angrily. She turned to me. “You took it!” She accused.

I held up my hands and shrugged. “I haven’t moved from this spot.” I honestly replied.

“Then that stupid whore did!” She shouted. “Get the hell out of our house!”

I slowly stood, finally losing my temper. “Bitches like you shouldn’t call your betters whores; certainly not after what you’ve done to your daughter.” I told her. “You will get on your knees and beg for her forgiveness.” She looked at me, startled at the vehemence of my words. Then the pain I unleashed burned through her mind. Her vision blacked out and she was too numbed even to scream. I made a wall of force against her back, forcing her to her knees. She fell forward on her hands, panting for breath. “Beg.” I commanded.

She whimpered. “Please.” I sent pain coursing through her again. “Arrgghh!” She howled. “Please. Stop. I’m sorry.” Her husband watched with a mixture of thrilling horror. He enjoyed giving pain to his wife, but it scared him that I had such power. Amber put her hand on my arm, and I turned to her. She shook her head, almost sadly, and I nodded. I released the woman and she crawled across the carpet to cower near her husband’s feet.

“Are we through with games?” I asked him.

His reply was careful. “What do you want?”

“Your daughter is now under my protection. I want you to leave her alone. Forever.”

“Just like that.” He commented. “If you want the little bitch so bad I’ll just give her to you.”

I decided it was time to test another of my powers, reaching out I caused a thick sheet of parchment and an old fashioned calligraphy pen, complete with a corked bottle of ink, to materialize in my hand. The parchment was rolled up when it formed, but I quickly undid the string holding it bound and unrolled it on the cedar chest sitting beside the couch. “What I want is a binding agreement from you and your wife to abstain from even so much as touching your daughter in any way that can be construed as harmful or inappropriate.”

“Just take her!” He said. “I don’t want her. Not if she’s been consorting with a demon like you and that succubus witch at your side.” He obviously didn’t learn from the example of his wife, but I wasn’t angry enough to give him a lesson in manners.

“Then I shall further amend to the agreement that you are to generously provide for her wellbeing until such a time as she is fit to provide for herself.” I told him, drawing up the contract I wanted. It was all for show anyhow, but that was just fine.

“You can’t!” He shouted.

“I can do whatever I wish at this juncture.” I told him, not looking up from my writing. I turned the parchment to face him and laid the pen on it. “Sign it.” I told him.

He hesitated. “And if I do you’ll leave?” He asked.

“I’ll never bother you again, so long as you keep your end in good faith.” I promised. He grunted, but he did sign. “Thank you.” I told him, turning to the cowering woman at his feet. “And now you.” I prompted. She looked up at her husband for guidance, but he refused to look back. She slowly reached out and took the pen, signing beside his. “This concludes the purpose of my visit. I hope that I don’t see either of you again anytime soon. Trust me when I say you do not want to see me.”

“I signed your damned contract; now leave us be demon. I want nothing more to do with either you or that harlot witch of a daughter.”

“Do not renege on this agreement.” I warned him.

“Aye, I’ll provide for her.” He said. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll have anything more to do with her. I’ll not live under the same house as that demon conjuring witch.”

“So long as you do not infringe upon her rights.” I stipulated.

He huffed again but nodded, and I turned to leave.