The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kira was not known for romance, or social fineries, and though her abs and thick powerful arms weren’t typically the kind of thing women in Zanzir would be praised for, nobody who had heard of her would dare insult her physique to her face. Not, though, that there were many people who did know who she was, as her work was quiet and lethal. It never took more than a month to see her quarry buried, it was said by her employers, and seldom a week for a fool who attempted to walk back on a contract.

Which was why her current predicament was so frustrating.

“Smile wide!” Exclaimed the irksomely chipper girl whose dad she’d been hired to kill. Kira glared daggers, fingers curling into fists.

“I’m going to murder you.” She threatened, venom dripping from her voice. “I’m going to salt the earth of your fucking bloodline.” The noblewoman was unperturbed and just smiled that obnoxious smile of hers, leaning in so her face was inches from Kira’s.

“No you’re not, honey. You’re never going to hurt me or anyone I care about, okay sweetheart?” Kira ground her teeth. The sickening, infantilizing pet names were, somewhat ironically, quite old. The princess didn’t pay any mind to Kira’s disdain, reaching out with a hand that bore a long silky glove that extended almost to the shoulder and beginning to pat Kira’s head. That siren’s song of comfort and bliss ripped into her mind again, and Kira found herself grinning ear to ear as she rubbed her scalp into her beloved princess’ soft, affectionate touch. “I love you, Kira.” Said the princess.

“I love you too,” Kira sighed with a vacant grin and hugged herself. With each touch of that precious silken glove she felt safer and the princess’ facial features became more charming and perfect.

“Apologize, sweet pea,” the princess ordered in the kind of cutesy, high-pitched voice elicited by cute animals.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie,” Kira replied- and she meant it. Kira reached out and held the princess’ beautiful, delicate body against hers. She wanted- she NEEDED-to keep this sweet innocent cherub close and safe. The princess’ soft, warm thighs came to rest on top of the meatier and far less squishy pair attached to Kira’s body. The princess giggled lovingly. Kira stared up into the princess’ sweet, perfect eyes and imagined lying down beside her to stare into them for hours. The thought made her heart race. “I love you Princess. I love you.” The princess giggled and gave Kira a light kiss on the forehead.

THREE HOURS EARLIER

Kira stood with her back to a door and a knife at her hip. She’d ruled out the prospect of using a gun after two weeks of careful investigation when she decided that the king’s various magical protections and the many alarms present made the increased noise of a firearm unworth the risk. True to her nature, though, it was a big knife: fat, hefty, excellent for chunking into someone once and making certain they were dead. She slinked through one corridor after another, making it past armed guards and the machines that provided surveillance to the building. All went well. Slipping through during the changing of the outer area’s guard was easy. Taking the circuitous route she’d prepared led to a scare when one guard was behind schedule but a swift elbow to the temple incapacitated him. All that remained was the hall to the throne room. And that’s where everything fell apart.

“Hey there!” Called a voice Kira didn’t know. It was sweet and inviting, as if the perfume of a lady in search of a partner were a sound. Kira froze in her tracks. “Hey, you! In the black!”

Kira’s ordinary clothes offered little in the ways of utility but they lended her plausible deniability if she got caught-that is, if she got caught earlier. Kira slowly adopted a more natural posture and turned to face the voice.

What she saw was a familiar face, but one she’d only seen in photographs: the princess’, to be specific. She had a mane of wild blonde hair that curled just a little at its thick fluffy ends, two tufts hanging from her ears that almost resembled mandibles, and ears with just a little point on their ends. The noble family supposedly had a bit of elf in them. Whether that was a rumor they started for prestige, relying on their ears to give it credit, or a statement of fact Kira neither knew nor cared.

Kira narrowed her eyes at this newest obstruction: a pink sleeveless dress tight in the chest to accentuate her bosom that stopped at her thighs in the front to show off her gorgeous legs and the white thigh highs that decorated them (but fell to her ankles at the sides and back like an elegant cape), hot pink heels, white silk gloves that were practically detached sleaves, a silver tiara with jewels and engravings, and a single massive sapphire over her sternum that glittered nicely in the torchlight.

Kira was clueless regarding fashion and this getup was a perfect example of why: it was beautiful but useless, actively a hindrance in any practical setting, and putting that aside without a doubt a pathetic waste of the coin spent on it. Kira briefly remembered the comparison a previous employer had made to gold, but she shook off the recollection rather than weather, for a second time, his long winded and half hearted admittal of the precious metal’s usefulness to alchemy. Her face softened even as her mind raced to think of the fastest and quietest way around this obstacle.

“My name is Raven,” lied Kira with her best imitation of a friendly grin. “You’re home early. Did your trip go poorly?” The princess giggled, procuring a hot pink fan and waving it in her face. Instinct coiled many of the muscles in Kira’s body as she recognized that, in opposition to her ensemble and its own gaudy coloration, the tool was at least somewhat of a threat. Runes lined its folds and a sharp blade protruded from each. That it was a weapon best used in a gambit for the element of surprise, which had casually been unveiled like that, said the princess was either too much of a ditz to be trusted with a weapon or not buying the story and trying to threaten “Raven” without lowering her mask of civility.

“It was awful, dreadful even!” Began the princess, fluttering her fan, “Nobody there knows how to treat a lady! And the murder attempts, my word!” The princess’ sharp cheeks pulled in a way that suggested the fan hid a cruel smirk. “Couldn’t get a cup of tea without two people trying to put knives in me and an ametuer hour poisoner to deal with.”

Yes. Definitely supposed to be a threat. Still, the princess was not muscular. She had lithe arms, her belly was flat but not especially toned, and she had a bit of chub in her hips and legs but not, seemingly, much muscle. Even the weapon she casually brandished was one most notable for its ability to be disguised as a harmless aristocratic indulgence, which was a trait she’d ruined any chance to use. Kira realized the spoiled brat thought of this like a game. Denied any real consequences, and sheltered from the grim knowledge of mortality, an unknown dealer of death in the night was to her something novel to play with. Kira smiled. She could play this game.

“Sounds rough! I’m proud of our princess for thriving in such a savage place.” The word “savage” clawed at Kira’s sensibilities as she said it, but it was the best appeal to the girl’s ego she could think of.

“Oh, I insist, don’t belittle Kelgerich. The country is lovely! I’ve half a mind to butcher all of our guys who turned it into what it is, but alas.” Another flutter of the fan. Had that been sincerity? It had to be. The princess’ face had contorted into genuine outrage, something Kira didn’t think would fit in the rules of this macabre game they’d silently agreed to play.

“My apologies, princess,” Kira grinned and took a few steps forward, gesturing at the castle in a grandiose manner, “you know how arbitrary the guidelines regarding etiquette can be dealing with nobles.”

The princess giggled again and stepped closer. The two were six feet apart. Kira could run her through with ease, and if she got a good angle she’d be able to seize the girl’s wrist with her off hand and render the fan useless.

“Oh I DO,” teased the princess as she began to circle Kira. Kira grimaced inside and began to slowly lower her arms, hoping to get a good position. Kira turned her body away from the princess, putting it between her and the knife holstered at her own thigh. As she did, her legs carried her in a motion mirroring that of her soon to be victim. They circled each other, as though they were dancers or wolves sizing up prey. The fan sloooowly came shut, revealing a playful smile on the princess’ face. They stared knowingly into each other’s eyes. For a moment, both were tense.

Then, the princess lunged. Easily Kira drew her knife and deflected the fan. It flew easily from her adversary’s limp grip and clattered to the floor. It dawned on Kira that for such a sudden movement, the grip she held her weapon in was

Bliss. The princess had wrapped Kira in her arms and a thick pink fog instantly rolled into her brain. Kira sluggishly tried to raise her knife hand, which had foolishly not been pinned to her side, and her arm numbly obeyed. Why, though, was she raising her knife? Was she trying to hurt the princess?

Yes, Kira reminded herself. The princess attacked her. She was in danger. She had to fight.

Did she? The princess smelled quite good. Her touch was soft, her body comfortable. It would be so much nicer to just relax and enjoy the hug.

Kira didn’t care what was easy! She had…she had…

The princess kissed Kira’s forehead and the assassin moaned as a shiver of joy stabbed through her brain and raced down her spine. “Put that down, sweetie. It’s dangerous.” Kira struggled to remember why she should hold on, but the knife felt heavier and more sinister with each passing moment. Slowly, with reluctance, the arm holding it dropped to her side and her grip loosened until the knife slid out from her fingers and fell to the floor.

“What’s your name, cutie?” Asked the princess, reaching up to pet Kira. Kira’s mouth flopped open and her head limply rolled back, a low happy purr emanating from her.

“My name is Kira…” she whispered with a look of intense happiness.

“Good girl.” The princess scratched a bit as a reward, her nails making the assassin’s scalp pulsate raw unfettered joy. “Doesn’t trusting me feel good?”

“Trusting….goood,” Kira moaned as she revelled in the sublime joy of her princess’ heavenly touch.

“Good girls trust me. You trust me, don’t you?”

“I...truuuuust…” muttered Kira. Something about that world felt wrong. Trust. Something deep in her brain protested. Trust was dangerous. Trust brought death.

“Gooood girl. And I’m SO easy to trust. My fingers, my body, my lips...they all make you feel so safe.”

“Saffffffe,” Kira happily groaned. She really did. The princess’ touch helped soothe all the background noise in her head. She didn’t have to glare at everything, all the time, to spot potential threats. She only needed the Princess’ word.

“I could never hurt you.” The princess smiled, curling a finger under Kira’s shirt and pulling it up over her chest. Kira’s body quaked with delight.

“Never...huuuurt, me…” and it was true. The Princess was sweet, soft, vulnerable. She could never hurt Kira. Any feelings of suspicion were emotional energy put to waste. Kira groaned at the sudden euphoria of the Princess putting a hand on one of her tits.

“I prefer a bit bigger.” Said the Princess.

“Mmmm,” moaned Kira. “Bigger...better. I’m sorry…”

The Princess giggled. The sound was sweet, good, light. Listening to it was like being whisked away to heaven by a big kitty that smelled like chocolates. “Let’s get you to my chambers, okay darling? I’d love to get to know you.” A soft hand wrapped in softer silk clasped itself around Kira’s. She trembled pitifully and struggled not to have a gentle little orgasm on the spot. When was the last time a pretty girl held her hand? She definitely needed it more often. Kira felt safer and warmer than she ever had in her life.

“Okayyyyy,” she whispered as her eyes widened lazily, “I’d like that…”