The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kira walked on slow, choppy steps. The thin chain attached to the back of her collar extended about seven feet in length when fully extended, but at the moment a little under half of that length was coiled around the princess’ left wrist. This meant that Kira was, quite literally, being kept on a short leash. The thought was absolutely humiliating to the former assassin, who had never failed to kill a mark in under a month before this spectacular disaster of a job. She tried to rebel in small petty ways, by doing things like deliberately walking at irregular paces that showed her resistance or taking too long to resume walking if the two ever came to a stop for some reason, but these small actions failed completely to get a rise out of the princess. If anything, Kira only succeeded in making her circumstances feel more degrading. Not only had she been reduced to showing her displeasure in such trivial ways, her efforts weren’t even working. The princess proved obnoxiously patient with her antics, only ever “chastising” her in the playful manner a noble might employ against a mildly misbehaving beloved cat.

“I do grow ever so tired of these noxious ballroom parties,” lamented the princess. In an act of defiance, Kira attempted to force herself to call her captor by their name: V...Ve...V...Princess. they were the princess, and to address them by name was to call them Princess. No, she snarled internally, the princess had a name! She had a name that she hated, and Kira should be USING that name, even if it was only possible within her own head! She was not some vapid sycophant, head so full of air that the mere presence of a beautiful face and...soft caring hands and...big pretty boobs and...and...damn, the princess was so beautiful. If Kira was good, would Princess let her sleep in their own bed? She’d never been dealt the indignity of sleeping on the floor, such was the beautiful noble’s infinite kindness, but she longed for the princess’ gentle embrace, to hear that sumptuous tongue grace her ears with the sound of the princess’ songbird-like voice, to-

No, gods damn it! Kira was not some lapdog to be won over with treats and hackneyed affection by a girl who existed to be pawned off for the political gains of men! She tensed her hands, which hung presently at her sides, into white knuckled fists. Her steps grew ever so slightly heavier with anger, despite her efforts to walk as softly as possible. The princess was still talking, tittering on and on about trifles and trinkets and her father’s thrice damnable court, and whether or not she could tell Kira wasn’t listening...it was hard to tell. Would she even care if Kira was listening? A part of Kira...hoped, anyway, that the princess cared whether or not she had Kira’s attention. She...wanted the princess to...care.

Damn them all, damn this insipid royal family eight times over, damn them and their children, and damn their children’s children, and THEIR children’s children, and theirs too, forever until all that would live had come to pass and all of time wound to its inexorable demise, damn any and all of their spawn forevermore! By the grace and wrath of the gods alike be they all damned!

“Are,” asked the princess with a look that at least accurately resembled that of concern, “are you quite alright, Kira? You seem to be rather upset. Is your collar fastened too tightly? Are your garments proving uncomfortable, sweetie?” Damn you, Kira mouthed at the princess silently in retaliation, her mouth only barely opening and moving such that only those specifically tutored or otherwise adept at reading lips could accurately parse her choice of words. Her mind raced to find a suitable excuse for whichever tic had alerted the princess.

“Nerves,” Kira spat. “I get nerves regarding large social ventures in the preceding hours, especially those hosted by nobility.” The princess giggled and swished her waist back and forth slightly. Was she amused, or was she laughing at Kira for being so inept at these games of verbal cat and mouse? The former assassin’s clouded mind struggled to discern which of the two was happening.

“An assassin, getting stage fright? My my my, how dreadfully human,” the princess giggled. She bobbed up and down with her body, which made the length of chain linking her hand to Kira’s leash clink and rustle a little bit. She smiled gently and fluttered her long, delicate eyelashes. For some reason, this show of condescension in particular cleared some of the fog from Kira’s head. “It’ll be alright, dear. Your precious princess will be riiiight here, the whole time. In fact, if you become overwhelmed by these nerves, why, she’ll even be a sweet merciful princess and softly hold your hand. Does that make things feel more bearable, sweet pea?” Was she being mocked!? Kira’s fists grew ever tighter with resentment. She glared at the princess with killing intent and attempted to will herself to do, or even to imagine doing, violence. Her efforts proved to be in vain.

“I hate you,” she forced herself to growl from between teeth that disobediently refused to part and let her talk normally. “I hate this, I hate this all, go to hell.” She tried to make her body stomp on the princess’ heel, but that too was to no avail. The princess seemed not to be intimidated like Kira had hoped, nor even to be annoyed. Instead her reaction was the worst thing it could possibly be: giggles and delight.

“Oh, that’s adorable! You’re still trying to fight it, darling, how cute. I’m sorry, but you’re not going to get anywhere straining yourself like that all the time. Why not give up? You’ll be soooo much happier once you’ve done that, dear. You’ll be able to enjoy my presence, rather than just skulking like this all the time!” Kira glowered silently but angrily at her captor and tried to scan their surroundings for things she could...use to...escape…

That wonderful glove was touching her face. Princess, her beautiful and perfectly cared-for lips in a wide smile accentuated by thick bright gloss, was patiently gazing at Kira with far more affection than she could possibly deserve. Kira’s face turned an intense shade of crimson and she shyly mewled. She wanted to let Princess slowly, delicately rub her face with that lovely, soft glove forever. It felt so...so very good, just gently spreading that soft feeling of gentle domestic affection across her face. Kira loved her Princess, Kira trusted her Princess, trusted her entirely, trusted her more than anything in the world, more than herself. She wanted to go to sleep clutching the Princess in her arms, keeping her safe, she wanted to warm the princess’ lap and protect her at all hours and she wanted to-

“Come, come!” Chirped the princess as she pulled away her gloved hand. Her beauty degraded instantly as the glove’s insipid magic was severed from its source, but not by enough to keep Kira from feeling starstruck. She fought the urge to stare longingly at the almost divinely perfect figure of her princess, and the urge defeated her with ease. “It would hardly be polite of me, as the princess, to make my arrival at this ball late!” She scurried off and Kira was forced to scramble to keep up. It should have been humiliating, being kept in step behind a girl so much weaker and clumsier than she was, being influenced by magic that took those advantages away, even inverted them to some degree. Yet, somehow, for some reason, a part of Kira in the back of her mind seemed to like this. It was inexplicable, and it infuriated her.

“Gah!” Kira grunted, her legs refusing to respond with the power and grace she knew they possessed. She followed in the princess’ footsteps and tried not to notice how this pace took effort, despite being slower than she would ever have dared move in public before this mission. The two of them made their way through the palace and Kira got plenty of bemused looks along the way. Maids and other nobles, it seemed, were the ones most keen on observing her. Though, that described most of the palace’s inhabitants, so it may have just been a matter of probability. Kira tried not to let the roiling anger within her manifest in outward behavior again. She knew that would just earn-no, get, get!— her another dose of that intoxicating glove’s treacherous magic.

The princess arrived at the ball just in time with Kira in tow. The former assassin’s obvious and overpowering displeasure at being leashed had yet to subside, but that only made it funnier to the princess how powerless she was. She greeted a few guests, curtsied when and as appropriate, and fetched a small goblet of her beverage of choice. A low but constant din filled the room. She couldn’t wait for this terribly dull event to end, already, but she supposed that since she was there she might as well enjoy it. She turned to her pet with a smile on her lips.

“Care to dance, Kira?” The assassin practically hissed at being addressed in such an informal manner, using her real name, with so many faces and ears about. The princess just grinned wider. “Well? If you don’t know how, I can always tutor you.”

“I don—” the assassin hissed. She pursed her done-up lips and growled inaudibly as she considered the potential downsides of angering the girl who literally had her on a leash. “Fine, damn you.”

“Splendid!” The princess clapped happily. “Oh, I’m so glad you’ll let me teach you!” She took Kira by her hand and skipped out on the floor, eagerly smiling and giggling anyone and everyone looking- and there were plenty of those. Kira found herself dragged into a soft, gentle embrace. The princess had one hand clasped over one of hers and had slipped the other under her arm and around her side. “So, to start,” she whispered affectionately, “you hold me like this.” Kira, reluctantly, returned the embrace. The princess giggled. “Oh, you are SO tense right now! Come on, live a little!” She kissed the assassin on the lips.

Kira felt light and soothed. Her face slowly melted, aided along gently by more slow, guiding kisses from the princess. She loosened and began to join in on the princess’ dancing. She didn’t seem to resist any more. In fact, her eyes lit up with comfortable adoration. The princess delighted in her pet’s dulled eyes and took her all about on slow, relaxed steps. Every so often her pet’s eyes would start to rekindle themselves, but each time they did, the princess lovingly kissed the light back out of them. Kira got more and more slow and comfortable. She started holding her princess closer, ignoring everything else.

For the princess, this was a monumental thing to watch happen. She relished, even delighted in every additional ounce of Kira’s attention that her lips either devoted to herself or stripped away entirely. As the two swayed and twirled slowly about the ballroom, the chain connecting her wrist to Kira’s neck clinked and swished quietly in a nice little rhythm. Kira became so enraptured she couldn’t hear the music, only the gentle swishing of their revealing outfits and the slinking, swishing noises of the chain. She stared emptily into her princess’ beautiful eyes, and her world rapidly narrowed down until nothing but their owner remained at all.

The princess spun and danced gracefully, but always at a slow enough pace for her dazed pet to keep up. The odd condescending giggle jumped from her lips as she did. The two leaned in. They crossed, swished, twirled. Their eyes grew closer and closer. Their embrace became looser, and yet their proximity to one another’s breast halved by the minute. Kira was more relaxed and happy than she’d ever felt in her life. She pressed herself up against Kira, intoxicated by the firebrand’s vapid adoring gaze.

“I love you, pet.“

She pressed her lips against Kira’s.

Kira kissed back.