The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

All stories start with “What if?” the Weaver’s most powerful tool.

What if, for instance, the Weaver decided to host a writing contest for lovers on Valentine’s Day. A contest wherein the prize is completely decided by the writing… and everyone is a winner.

MICHAEL STEVENS

In quiet moments, my heart screams for Sophia Rivera, despite her stance of us being “just friends.” She’s even upped the definition to “best friends,” but when any talk of possible intimacy, even something as small as a kiss, comes up, she laughs it off.

I’m not going to lie. It hurts. It hurts to be constantly with someone who laughs at the idea of being with you. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m a healthy, twenty-two-year-old man with wants and needs.

Sophia is the kind of girl who’s unaware of her effect on men, including me in particular. She has a lot of power packed into her tiny frame, having been blessed with large natural breasts and pendulous hips which stand out on her otherwise svelte body. She has brown hair with gentle curves and hazel eyes. It’s possible though my favorite feature on her is her lips, plush and ripe for kissing. I’ve dreamt of kissing her probably even more than I’ve dreamt of having sex with her, which is to say a lot. And if you add in daydreams, I’ve probably spent more time thinking about Sophia than anything else.

She’s, for some reason I don’t know despite being her best friend, committed herself to not being committed. She’s single and proud. Since I can’t imagine being with anyone but her, I’m single by default. We’re even co-hosting a singles-only Valentine’s Day party — no couples allowed.

She’ll be here any minute, but all the cleaning, decorating (hearts with x’s through them), and food prep has already been done. If she shows up and is happy with my work, she may just hug me a little longer and sometimes those hugs are all I have to keep me going.

That and my very active fantasy life where the two of us fuck like bunnies — where I guide her into rooms with a hand on her ass — where we kiss whenever elevator doors close even if we’re not the only two on the elevator.

I’m obsessed.

It’s a problem for which I don’t see a solution.

Seeking a distraction, I look up Valentine’s Day fantasies. Surely, I’m not the only one in this particular predicament. I’m not, as it were, but the site that I visit third is some kind of writing contest.

No one celebrates love like The Weaver. As such, this St. Valentine’s Day, I want you to write me a story about your significant other. Tell me who you are and who they are. The story aspect though is for you to tell me who you want them to be. Unleash your fantasies onto the page and you could win a truly memorable prize to share this holiday. Send your stories to theweaverarcanum@gmail.com

My name is Michael Stevens and I have a problem. It’s my best friend, Sophia Rivera, she’s the absolute hottest woman on the planet, but our relationship is cold as an iceberg.

I long for anything that would heat up our interactions.

I want her built for sex, sexual pleasure, sexual gratification. Her body seems to be built that way, but her spirit is lacking. A full spiritual overhaul to put her in the right headspace would be a godsend.

Beyond her spirit, her wardrobe could use some fixing. She hides her body in oversized clothes, but, having been to the beach with her, I know that it’s flawless and should be as on view to the world as permitted by law… in the most lenient of places.

It’s not like I want her submissive either… just activated. I want her to walk into the room and have everyone know that it’s about to get freaky. I want her insatiable, always ready and always seeking new ways to liven up our sex life. I want her so empowered she’s able to just take over a room. And I want sex to be like food for her — an absolute necessity — so when she does take it over, sex is always on the menu.

I click submit and really hope this never gets back to Sophia.

It’s possible she’d never talk to me again.

You are a winner!

Crap. I hope they don’t publish their winners.

Shit. I put our names in there and everything.

I am so screwed.

There’s no prize in the world that can make up for that.

SOPHIA RIVERA

I’m in the elevator on the way up to Michael’s place for what could be the last time. He thinks I don’t see the looks he gives me… or the way he’s always jokingly bringing up hooking up to me. I’ve made my stance clear — I’m not looking for anything like that. From him or from anyone else.

I saw what an active sex life did to my sister. She has five kids now and exactly zero career. I don’t want that life. I want to make a big mark on the world and sex is a distraction, at best. I have vibrator #9 for my weak moments. You’d think those things would be more durable.

I’ve worn my absolute dowdiest clothes possible. Maybe, just maybe he’ll take the floor-length baggy jeans and oversized hoodie as a signal to not bring up coupling. I didn’t do my hair or makeup either. This is a singles party, not a hookup party. I expressly said to everyone I invited, “If you’re coming here in the hopes of meeting someone, go somewhere else. That’s not what this is about.”

The hoodie may have been a bit too much because it feels like the elevator has both slowed and become a sauna at the same time.

Hot…

So hot…

The rising heat makes me glad I chose to not wear pants, just an extra long hoodie big enough to cover the bits that need covering because of societal norms.

I hope my sweat doesn’t ruin my hair and makeup.

I discard the hoodie, dropping it to the ground.

It was only part of a tease anyway. I wanted to see what Michael would say when my hot ass showed up way too clothed and not in the red and black leather corset that’s my normal attire.

I see my reflection in the elevator doors. The blood red lipstick. My dark red eyes. I know something inside me says that Michael’s my friend, but really, can sex demons have friends? Mainly, we have food sources. I’m reasonable though I only take what I need to survive. My meals are blessed. In exchange for their orgasmic energy, I give them the best time of their lives.

The elevator opens. I see Michael’s door at the end of the hall. I know he’ll be there. Alone, for now, but I know others will show up so that I can enjoy using them as well. Tonight is going to be quite the night.

I sashay down the hall, hips swaying from side to side providing a great view of my ass. I know no one can see it right now, but it’s the only way this body can move — a constant advertisement for sex, enticing and entrancing all witnesses.

I get to his door and knock.

MICHAEL STEVENS

I hear a knock at my door.

It’s still too early to be anyone else, so it’s got to be Sophia. She said she was going to bring a couple games with her for tonight’s entertainment. I’ll see if she needs a hand.

I open the door and I see that she doesn’t need a hand. She probably needs a sweater to stop from catching cold, though.

Her breasts are held up by an impossibly tight corset like a wonderful tit shelf. Her skin has a slight red tinge to it. The black fishnet stockings dive into red knee-high boots with thick high heels. Her hair is teased. Her makeup is heavy. She looks like sex on wheels, beyond everything I’d ever imagined.

I must be standing there looking like an idiot because she tickles my face with her pointed red tail.

Tail?

The tail pulls me out of my reverie.

She pushes me into my apartment and down to the floor.

The door slams shut behind her as if of its own accord.

“You like what you see, Michael. Don’t lie. I can feel the lust pulsing through your body as you look at my body.”

She runs her hands up and down that body to showcase exactly what I’ve always wanted.

And I still want it, tail or no.

“I see that you’ve made up your mind.” She puts a big red heel onto my chest. “Good boy. When I’m down with you, you will believe that a demon can take you to heaven.”

I’ve seen enough horror movies, too many in fact, to know that doing anything with her is a bad idea, but it’s a risk I’m more than willing to take.

“Sophia?”

“Yes, Michael?”

“We going to fuck or what?”

She makes a fast gesture with her hands and my clothes split down the middle and disperse to opposite sides of the room. Another gesture lifts me up to a standing position. She grabs me by the back of my head and her talented tongue starts to explore my mouth. I pull down her corset to expose her perfectly formed breasts to my eyes and hands. Her nipples are red and pronounced and when I take one into my mouth, she squirms and bites her bottom lip, drawing blood.

She throws me onto the couch and hovers an inch above me.

“Do you want this body?”

Her pussy is just an inch away from my cock. I need to feel that wrapped around me. “Yes!”

“Are you ready to worship me?”

“Yes!”

I feel a burning around my neck. I don’t have to look or touch it to know that I’ve been collared. I am now Sophia’s property, to do with as she pleases.

“You’re mine now.”

I bow my head to the side in deference to her. “I am.”

She touches the back of my head. “I’m going to take the whole party and you’re going to help.”

“Anything for you.”

The inch that separates us disappears and she impales herself on my dick. Her pussy is hot and tight and wet. It grips me like a fist, but strokes me like velvet.

She puts her palm to my forehead and starts to grind against me like I am a horse and she is my rider. I get even harder. I feel like I could do this forever, until she commands, “Cum!”

I explode inside her. It’s the biggest cum I’ve ever had. I feel like I could just go to sleep right now, but she repeats the command a minute later.

“Cum!”

And I do, even bigger than the first orgasm. I feel drained from head to toe. There’s no way —

“Cum!”

She has complete control of my body.

She has complete control of me.

Demon or no, evil or no, she promised me heaven and she delivers.

I’m still hard inside her, despite my orgasms. She picks up the pace and shudders to her own screaming orgasm. I’d be worried that the neighbors would think I was killing someone in here with the force and level of her scream, but it’s so damn hot, who cares?

She licks my ear and whispers into it, “Get dressed. I think we’re going to play a very interesting game of Never Have I Ever with our guests tonight.”

SOPHIA RIVERA

I watch Michael slowly make his way to his bedroom. I may have sucked a little more energy out of him than I should have but his love and worship tasted so good I couldn’t help myself. I’ll give him a little back to restore him to his nearly full self.

I look at myself in the mirror. I want to have fun with our guests. I wink and I look like an average human woman. Well, that’s not completely honest, I look like a less demonic, but phenomenally attractive human woman. How do women exist without a tail? My brown nipples and hazel eyes seem so ordinary. Apparently, “human me” has a full patch of brown hair above her pussy and isn’t always bare and ready. Interesting…

The doorbell rings and, in another wink, I’m wearing a little black dress and red pumps.

I open the door and recognize the thin blonde man as Carson. He double-takes at me. I know I could take him right here in this doorway, but I feel like playing with my food, having had such a worthwhile appetizer.

He finally finds his voice, “Sophia?”

I nod. I don’t know if my enchantment lessened the power of my voice. I’ll have to be careful.

Carson enters and I say, “Michael’s in his bedroom.”

The emphasis on bedroom isn’t lost on Carson and his thoughts stray to taking me there and then taking me there. Looking at my ass in my tight dress, he would really want to take me from behind. His sexual energy is palpable. If everyone coming to the party tonight is this frustrated, I’ll be set for millennia.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask, trying to be demure and against type.

Despite my toned down tone, he still immediately thinks of drinking directly from my pussy, suckling at my breasts.

I hope the other guests are as timely has Carson because though I’m the seductress in this room, I’m nearly entranced by his desperate need.

The doorbell rings.

I nearly sigh.

I watch Michael, now clad in unripped apart clothing, go to the door.

I sit down next to Carson. I touch his thigh. I’m a sex demon, I can’t help myself. He goes hard immediately, but blushes as he realizes the room is about to be full.

I hear a female voice — Aria — say to Michael, “I found these two in the lobby, looking a bit lost, so I guided them up.”

I look over at the entering trio. Aria is a tall, black-haired beauty with deep Hispanic roots. She has the body of a supermodel, but doesn’t have the grace to completely make it work. She looks like she’d trip and fall over if she were placed on the runway. Next to her is Morgan, a more Scandinavian type and almost Aria’s polar opposite. Blonde hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, Morgan’s also shorter than Aria and a lot curvier. Brandon, the sole male in the newly arrived trio, is an average build brown-haired guy who would probably have more success with women if he didn’t appear to be so eager to please. This group will do nicely.

I look back to Carson whose eyes square up with mine and realize that as I’ve been assessing the newcomers, I’ve also been stroking Carson’s dick through his pants. He has a good, strong dick, but it’s a good thing it was my controlling stroke because I know that if he were this hard and turned on under normal ministrations, he’d have had an accident in his pants already.

“Come on,” I say, teasing him, “Let’s go say hi to everybody.”

His eyes go wide in fright at the prospect of everyone in the room checking out his hard-on. I lean in and whisper, “You should be proud of that dick of yours.”

His demeanor changes, he approaches everyone without hesitation, unfazed when their eyes inevitably fall to his crotch. Aria licks her lips at the sight. Morgan doesn’t seem to care. I probe her. She doesn’t care because she’s uninterested in men. She’s a lot more interested in Aria and me. Her friends don’t know, but I do, and that means they all soon will learn.

We share a few drinks and pleasantries about the weather and the best place to get half-off candy tomorrow when Michael, at my prodding, suggests we all play a game of Never Have I Ever.

I exude my influence over the participants so that, no matter what happens, they will partake in the game without hesitation.

I was going to let the game take shape without more direction, but when no one seems to want to start, I say, “Never have I ever licked another woman’s pussy.”

I watch as the men look at the women and smile widely when Morgan drinks. As the sip passes her lips and goes down her throat, she feels a compulsion. She stands and crosses towards Aria. Aria’s eyes are both frightened and intrigued as the blonde lifts the taller girl’s dress up as she speaks. “The thing I love about going down on another woman is triggering her sounds. Every woman has different sex sounds. Some sound childish. Some sound whorish. All are pleasant to my ears.”

Morgan pulls Aria’s panties down her legs, over her shoes, and then tosses them over her shoulder, to reveal Aria’s patch of dark hair and awaiting box. “I want to know what you sound like when you cum, Aria.”

Morgan buries her face in Aria’s pussy. I can tell that the girl is skilled and look forward to her working her tongue over my folds later. Aria starts to hum-moan and that only makes Morgan work her clit harder.

I catch Brandon’s eyes and he blurts, “Never have I ever fucked a girl while she was going down on another girl.”

He hasn’t, but he’s about to.

He drops his pants and reveals a sizable erection. I help him get Morgan’s jeans off of her so that he can quickly get inside of her. It’s difficult for him to pierce her and I realize in this moment that she’s a virgin in the sense that she hasn’t had sex with a man before. This energy will be intoxicatingly sweet. I savor it as he finally breaks through her maidenhood. She screams in delight into Aria’s pussy. My influence over her through this game has turned her into a complete bi-sexual. She’ll take cunt or cock with equal aplomb from this point forward. More engaged in the pleasures of his cock, she pushes back against Brandon even as her tongue explores deeper into Aria. The rest of the room watches with wild amusement, turned on and enjoying the show, but still calmly sip their drinks.

I catch Carson’s eyes and he says, “Never have I ever been jerked off in public.”

Much to his surprise, it’s not my hand, but Michael’s that pulls his cock out of his pants and starts to stroke. He’s unsure of how he should feel at first, but with each stroke, he’s more comfortable with the touch of a man. Comfort turns to pleasure and though not gay moments ago, Carson is now and forever will be so.

I smile at Michael, who smiles back at me and says, “Never have I ever been sucked off by a demoness while stroking off a friend.”

No need to ask me twice. I discard my “human disguise” and reveal my true nature. Everyone in the room who isn’t Michael is a little bit too distracted currently so they don’t notice the change as my much redder hair appears to bob up and down on his crotch and my tail loops over to tighten around his cock as well.

I conduct the energy in the room, raising them all, in concert, to the brink.

I trigger Aria first. The blonde learns that the dark haired woman is a screamer… and a squirter.

As her juices flood Morgan’s mouth, the blonde joins her in orgasm, perfectly turned on by the pussy in her mouth and the dick in her box.

Morgan’s pussy then sets off Brandon who streams rope after rope of cum into her for the very first time in her life, but not her last.

Michael flicks Carson’s tip in a very specific way to bring him to climax and then Michael drops his delicious cum into my mouth.

Drinking in the energy of my makeshift orgy, I cum as well, screaming even louder than Aria.

Sweaty, panting, and stuck in a loop of post-orgasmic bliss, I circle the room and collar every one of them. They are now all mine to control and explore. They will experience such ecstasy that they might blow through a brain cell or two. None of the important ones, mind you. If I wanted mindless slaves, that’s easy enough for me. I find that when you give a servant some semblance of free will, the unexpected surprises make it all worth it.

I shift and sort them through all sorts of sexual pairs. Each of them fucks and sucks, fingers and tongues one another until their one big fucking family. Outside of Carson, they will all be bisexual to some degree now.

Exhausted from the effort more so than the minute energy I pull from each of them, they all pass out, a huddled mass of intertwined naked humans.

When they wake and start all over again, always trying new positions and partners, they will all be incredibly thankful that they happened to be single on this particular Valentine’s Day.