The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mary wiped the sweat from her brow and felt the salty taste of her sweat in her mouth as she drained the last of her water. The walk to the edge of the hills where the caves were from the somewhat safety of the bus stop had been more arduous than anticipated, and she was tired.

“What will I say to Tania, anyway?” she said aloud to no one. The idea of living in a commune seemed like running away, and not one that her mother’s friend’s daughter would do.

She sighed again, and sat on a large flat rock, taking in a deep breath of the cooling air and mildly marveling at the changing colors of the skies as the sun hit the rocks.

Off in the distance rolled a low, white fog, not a dust storm, for there was no noise, but approaching nonetheless, sliding across the ground like a silent rug.

Mary’s nose wrinkled as she sought to discern the odd smell growing around her, and of the uncomfortable closeness of the fog. She stood up from the rock and started towards the foot of the hills, then turned as she saw the fog move as well, move with her and towards her.

Surprised, she drew in her breath, then sputtered a cough, her eyes suddenly welling up in tears. “What the...” she started, then stopped, the fog settling around her like a shroud, filling her eyes and lungs. Again, she gasped for air, her stomach racked with coughing, then filled her lungs again, and finally catching her wind again. “It’s pot, it’s..” her voice trailed off into muteness.

The sudden sound of drums filled her ears, drums and chanting, drums, chanting, and movement in the mist.

“Be One with the Almighty.... One with the Almighty, One, One, One,” the voices said.

Mary blinked, struggling to see through the cloud, her mind slowly realizing that she might be in danger, yet her body felt sluggish, relaxed, incapable of fast or sudden movement. Interestingly, her nipples began expanding; pushing up the thin fabric of her dress, as the fog and the drumming grew close. She turned to run; yet her body swayed drunkenly, and she slowly fell back into unseen hands.

Mary closed her eyes and gasped as she felt herself being effortlessly hoisted into the air, her garments flying from her body as many hands groped and stroked and carried and caressed. Her small but ample bosom felt afire and her nostrils flared as they were filled with the scents of marijuana, madness and lust.

She drew in her breath in surprise as she felt the coolness of marble on her back then sighed as a waft of smoke clothed her face and mind.

A million miles away, yet startlingly close, she felt the touch of lips upon her own, those same lips traveling and traversing the peaks and valleys of her body, resting between her thighs.

Mary suddenly came with a shout, her thighs bucking; teeth gnashed as tossed her head to and fro. In a moment, she felt a long, hard, powerful member dancing across her face, which she hungrily sought and found, swallowing deep.

“Love the Almighty, feel the Almighty, be One with the Almighty...”

Mary’s eyes flew open once more, then rolled up into her head, her wakefulness buried in darkness.

“Bloody hell, Gwen was NOT being xenophobic when she said that people in the West Indies can’t drive,” Kevin said exasperatingly as she swerved once again into what he thought was the proper lane.

“Yes she was, and just drive on the other side,” Ramillal admonished, his own eyes scanning the road ahead of him.

The two could not have made a stranger pair. Kevin, the green-eyed, blonde haired Nature Boy from Queens, and Ramillal, the grounded-to-a-fault, unimaginative yet intensely focused, dark-haired, dark -eyed Guyanese.

They had met in New York while taking a horticulture class, and became friends due mostly to their mutual interest in the outdoors and sex, the two concepts not being mutually exclusive.

Following Kevin’s abrupt dismissal from the Parks Dept. for eating ice cream on company time, Ramillal thought that a visit to his old country might cheer up his now unemployed companion.

Upon arriving, Ramillal was met by his great-aunt who had tearfully informed him that an unknown but powerful cult was slowly spiriting away pretty young girls from all of the neighboring towns and schools, his step-cousin Mary being one of them. Ramillal had promised to help, and currently he and his erstwhile companion were making their way towards the caves on the outskirts.

Kevin made a face as the ancient automobile finally gave up the ghost. “We walk from here,” he said, the obscure reference to a line from an Indiana Jones film being lost on his friend, who only watched pornographic movies. “You need to get out more, man,” Kevin began.

“Never mind that, it will be dark soon and we have a lot of climbing to do,” Ramillal said, looking up towards the darkening sky.

“Can’t be any harder than climbing the schist in Morningside Park,” Kevin shrugged, as the two started towards the peak.

Gradually, the two began to follow the sound of drumming, a sound that literally lead the off of the beaten path, and towards a near insurmountable summit. Insurmountable to most; the young men nimbly bounding from rock to rock, pausing only to occasionally offer the other a hand-up.

The two peaked over the edge of the mountain, their eyes widening in surprise, and pleasure at the sight in the small, hidden valley below them.

Beautiful women danced in a circle around a huge bonfire that emanated a thick white cloud towards the sky. Clad only in sarongs and self-confidence, the women danced and strutted and gleamed, their bodies shiny with sweat, which flew like dew through the hot night air.

“Dude, THIS is better than cable,” Kevin smiled approvingly.

“They certainly seem to be having a good time,” Ramillal agreed, then stopped. “Look, there’s Mary!”

Kevin looked then gasped at the sight of his friend’s naked relative.

Ramillal slapped him upside the head. “That’s my step-cousin,” he warned.

“A-how, hey, watch the hands,” Kevin hissed back. “Hey, who’s that?”

The two peered over the edge once again. This time, a slim but toned Rasta man walked towards the center of the circle, where Mary lay on the stone table, writhing in pleasure.

The women began to chant. “One with the Almighty, one with the Almighty.”

Ramillal watched, almost hypnotized, as the cocky man strode towards his intended, his pleasure and excitement growing with every step.

Kevin slapped him upside the head. “Dude, that’s your step-cousin!”

Ramillal shook his head. “What’s going on?” he asked, a little fearfully.

Kevin frowned grimly. “As near as I can tell, Money down there is going to fuck your step-cousin. And you smell that? That is some mighty potent shit. They’re all so stoned they don’t know what’s happening. Money’s got himself a little sex-cult, is what!”

“Then let’s stop him,” Ramillal said, suddenly flinging himself over the edge, his lithe body sliding down a narrow precipice.

“So much for the element of surprise,” Kevin sighed, then started off after him.

The drumming suddenly stopped, and the women ceased dancing, as they watched the two erst-while heroes slide down the hill, unceremoniously both falling on their respective asses.

The Rastaman’s eyes burned with fury as he glared at the intruders. “They would seek to stop our sister from knowing the Almighty,” he shouted, gesturing towards the pair. “They would seek to harm her! They would seek to harm the Almighty!”

The women began to advance towards the men, their eyes glittering with hate.

“Dude! The fit has hit the shan! Let’s bail!”

“You’re damn right,” Ramillal agreed, as the two took off, the screams of the women echoing dangerously close behind them.

The Rasta then turned towards Mary, who still lay in an oblivious stupor. “Tomorrow night, then,” he promised.

“Wow, I didn’t know pregnant girls could run so fast,” Kevin said, as he thirstily downed another beer. “If they had caught us, we’d both be singing soprano right about now.”

“Come on Kevin, be serious. This is my blood we’re talking about,” Ramillal protested.

Kevin paused. “Well, technically, only by marriage.”

“Aha. Seriously, last night we were lucky. If we don’t get her tonight, it will be too late.”

“Damn, I’ll bet that dude has impregnated all of them. Who does he think he is, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins?” Kevin mused.

“Never mind that. I think I have a plan. Now listen....”

Mary sighed, awash in content as Nina and Tania bathed her, gently touching and rubbing. “Mmm...Tania, what is happening,” she asked drowsily.

Tania and Nina grinned knowingly, their hands kneading the pliable flesh of their dazed captive. “You are going to meet the Almighty. Your life will never be the same again. Even now, the memories of which you were fade away like the dawn. All that matters now is that you are with us, your sisters. We love you, and will see to it that you are protected. No one will ever harm you.”

“But, those boys,” Mary began, then stopped, too relaxed to even finish a thought, never mind a sentence.

“That was just a dream. A dream. There was no man there, only your sisters and the Almighty,” Tania said, her fingers fingering Mary to illustrate the point.

“Oh! Yes, just a dream, a dream,” Mary murmured, smiling at the image of the Almighty in front of her, smiling down at her, so close to taking her. She came in the tub; then, as she realized what would be hers tonight.

“Okay, so, tell me again why THIS is going to work,” Kevin said, crawling towards the shelter of some undergrowth under the light of the blazing moon.

“Let us just assume that you are right, and all of those women are hypnotized. They are all high and hypnotized. They worship that Rasta man. What would distract them from him?”

“Dirk Diggler?”

“The Ugly American. Seriously, they would have to be distracted by something more attractive than what currently enthralls them,” Ramillal continued. “Something more powerful, more hypnotic.”

“And that’s you,” Kevin replied. “And this,” he gestured towards the heavy sack on his shoulders.

“It is worth a try. And, it’s our only chance.”

Kevin shrugged, then cautiously scanned the countryside. “I don’t know, this is all starting to look like a bad “Scooby-Doo” cartoon.”

“As opposed to a good one?”

Kevin paused. “Well, I did like the one when Daphne got hypnotized. There was room for growth, there.”

Ramillal shook his head. “Beyond sick. Come on, let’s go.”

Once again, the full moon shone down on the stunning visage of beautiful women, weaving a net of moonbeams in a haze of white smoke, strong and confident.

A dazed but smiling Mary, her hair now braided, and her skin already darkening, gazed with longing at the marble bench.

Cloaked in darkness behind a tent at the edge of the campsite, Kevin swallowed, his body unable and unwilling to deny the effect this vision of feminine lust had. He wondered if he would be able to stay focused long enough to complete his task.

His nostrils wrinkled as he tiptoed through the thin veil of marijuana mist that clung to his feet and legs. “God, that shit smells awesome,” he thought. Then he paused in mid-sneak.

Before him, proud and defiant, hands on hips, stood a bronzed, blonde goddess, her hair a tangle of braids and locks, large green eyes flashing in sharp contrast to her tan body. Her bare bosom was huge and swan-like, and her gait was that of an untamed stallion.

Kevin swallowed hard, again, a strange feeling growing in his stomach, his knees feeling slightly weak. His heart lurched, a slight pang of guilt as the memory of his long lost love flashed through his head. This woman was moving him that way. “No fair,” he thought.

He felt a slow, but rising and insistent longing for this woman, who still stood silent in front of him, her eyes boring into his, speaking volumes more than mere vocalism. It was as if she was seeing right through him, seeing and freeing his ever growing desire, promising to match the hole in his heart, match it and make it better. All he had to do was watch, watch her eyes.

The woman smiled, nodded slightly, then slowly began to sway in front of Kevin, his eyes following as she undulated in front of him, hips gently thrusting, curves flowing, eyes promising pleasures saved only for the Gods.

Like the dancers in the “Butterfly” video, she was a creature of earth and sky. Indeed, the white mist moved with her, settling on the unseeing and oblivious Kevin like silk.

He gasped, grunted, then sighed, suddenly grasping his seducer in a clumsy but passionate embrace.

A moment, then, and his shirt was torn from his chest, his cut-offs sloughed off like a dry skin.

The golden goddess gasped, then clenched her teeth and eyes, as Kevin thrust into her. This young interloper who dared the forbidden, who had attempted to disrupt the holiest of all holies, was fucking he with an abandon that rivaled the Almighty himself. He filled her so completely, so tightly, that she found herself cursing him under her breath, her mind a confused tangle of mixed emotions and unbridled passionate fury.

Forever it might have been before his lips sought hers, the sound of his coming echoing down her throat as she answered in kind.

The two gazed at each other, and then realization dawned on Kevin’s face as he vainly tried to untangle himself from the beauty below him.

She suddenly grabbed the sides of his head, pulling his face towards hers. “Watch me, my pretty one,” she whispered. “Look into my eyes. Look into my eyes. Look into my eyes, and sleep, sleep, sleep...slllllleeeeeep.”

“Nooo, no,” Kevin murmured, then sighed as her fingers found his lips, her other hand stroking his hair, glancing over his eyelids before pulling them closed. He sighed again, then slept.

The goddess stroked his hair, and blinked back a tear. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, in a faint Celtic burr.

Ramillal wiped the sweat from his brow as he donned the heavy hooded cape, clambering to his feet. Now, assuming that his friend would not be distracted and seduced by the sight of twenty beautiful nude dancers, he would grab Mary while Ramillal distracted the others.

The drums ceased, the women falling to their knees as the Almighty strode towards the center.

Ramillal took a deep breath, then stood up, hoisting over his head a large shining metal plate.

“I AM THE SPIRIT OF JAH!” he shouted. “BEHOLD THE TRUE ALMIGHTY!”

The women stopped and gaped at the mysterious hooded stranger who was slowly turning a large shiny plate over his head.

The Rasta Man’s eyed burned with a furious hatred as once again his attempts to seduce Mary were thwarted. He watched carefully as the women began to watch the light from the fire and moon glance off the plate, reflecting a myriad of colors back upon themselves.

Ramillal was nervous as he swung the plate, eyes scanning the outskirts of the campsite for his partner, who by all rights should have been currently sneaking off with the intended. With a growing sense of panic, he wondered how long he could pull off this charade. “Watch and listen, watch and listen,” he repeated.

Several of the women blinked and stared, their suggestible minds easily addled by the sparkling sight.

A stinging blow to the back of his head brought darkness, and Ramillal fell wordlessly to the ground.

“Ram, you okay?” a chagrined and bound Kevin glumly asked, his face in scarlet shame.

Ramillal attempted to rub the back of his head, then realized that he too, was slumped on the ground, hands tied behind his back. “They’ve got us both?” he glared accusingly at his friend.

“They appealed to one of my baser instincts,” Kevin replied sadly. “Man, I’m sorry.”

The Rasta Man slowly walked towards them, a long shiny knife in his right hand. He stood over the boys with smug authority.

“Twice now you have interrupted our ritual, twice now you have tried to stop me from being enlightenment to this girl. There will not be a third time.”

“Enlightenment my ass,” Kevin spat defiantly. “You just get them high and fuck them. Some Almighty, is that the only way that you can get laid?”

The Rasta Man swiftly kicked Kevin in the mouth, sending a gush of blood towards the sand. “BE SILENT!” he thundered. “I am the Almighty! My word is Law! All here shall obey me!”

The women, in circle yet again, began to echo the chant softly, then with growing volume. “Obey the Almighty, obey the Almighty, obey, obey, obey.”

“Yes!” Ramillal suddenly shouted. “Obey the Almighty, not a man!”

The women abruptly ceased their activity, including the Goddess who had enthralled Kevin. She stood in mid-stoop, pouring a thick white liquid onto the fire.

Ramillal flashed a quick wink to Kevin, who caught on immediately. If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with....

“YES! IT IS TRUE! OBEY THE ALMIGHTY, NOT THE MAN!” He shouted lustily.

“Silence!” shouted the Rasta Man. “Ignore them, my sisters, they speak with forked tongues!”

“And you speak with your dick,” Kevin sneered. “Some God you are. Is this your Almighty? Someone who clouds your mind instead of freeing it?” he shouted over to the women.

“What kind of God would make slaves of his followers, breeders for his ego?” Ramillal countered. “Feel the Almighty, not the man!”

“Feel the Almighty, not the Man! Feel the Almighty, not the man!” Kevin answered, the two chanting in loud unison.

The fog rolled over the women now, thick and heavy, as the chant they heard echoed in their minds with an eerie familiarity.

Tania swayed, oblivious to the drama, conscious only of the rhythmic chanting in her ears and the wonderful smoke in her lungs.

Again on the stone, Mary squirmed in pleasure. “Feel the Almighty, feel the Almighty,” she purred, plunging wet fingers deep inside herself.

“Feel the Almighty! Not the man! Feel the Almighty! Not the man!” Ramillal and Kevin shouted, grinning defiantly at their now enraged captor.

The Rasta Man turned to stare at the women, his women, they who had moments earlier only lived to serve his wishes, now whom stared dopey and unaware at the power struggle for their very lives.

He then turned towards Ramillal, and stood over him, holding the razor-sharp knife to the helpless boy’s throat. “You first,” he hissed.

Kevin suddenly sprang up, hands free and ready. As the Rasta Man stared dumbfoundedly, Kevin’s fist found his mouth, knocking him to the ground.

Ramillal joined him, and the two quickly administered a sound thrashing to their tormentor, kicking and stomping him in the grand style.

“THAT’S what you get for tying a bowline knot,” Kevin admonished. Then he stopped. “Dude, LOOK,” he pointed.

Again, the women stood before them, some still dazed and lost in helpless, hopeless trance, others with eyes dark with hate, and still others who shook their heads groggily, as if awaking from a strange dream.

“He is no God,” Ramillal said, gesturing towards the crumpled Rasta Man. “He tricked you all, hypnotized you all.”

One of the women, a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty, shook her head in protest. “No, that is not true, he loved us. He showed us enlightenment.”

“Enlightenment through mind-control?” Kevin countered. “Freedom through slavery? A slave is still a slave no matter how benevolent the master.”

The circle of women opened, as Mary walked towards them, wearing a hastily wrapped sarong, with a little shame as well. Her eyes blurred with tears of embarrassment. “Ram...”

Ramillal hugged her. “Come on Mary, let’s go home.”

“The hell do you mean you can’t book him?” Kevin asked the desk sergeant incredulously. “You can’t tell me it’s legal to start your own sex cult in this country.”

“It is not like that. We have no proof,” the sergeant said. “None of the girls have brought charges against him. Some of them are even now waiting for him, waiting for him to be released. The rest are too embarrassed, or ashamed. Besides, we have no evidence that he was hypnotizing them, and even if we did, what could we prove? All we can prove is that you boys trespassed upon their campsite, then kidnapped these women and brought them back into town against their will, which is what they will claim.”

“Who is he, anyway?” Ramillal asked.

“His name is Rushi. He has no criminal record.” The sergeant sighed, then leaned back in his chair. “I have seen this before, you know,” he said. “It happens a lot. Young naïve girls come to the country looking for something. Something authentic, something real, something that they think they cannot find anywhere else. Some of them fall prey to predators.”

“So what happens now?” Ramillal asked coldly, knowing full well the answer.

“We let him go, but not before I let you two go. Now, get out, and don’t come back to the West Indies again,” the sergeant said sternly.

“Well, you don’t have to let him go right away, do you?” Kevin asked coyly, fumbling in his back pocket.

“Well, it will take an hour or two to process the paperwork. Why?”

Kevin smiled wickedly, producing a small package wrapped in leaves. “Maybe you can give him an enema with this white, “not evidence” shit that he had those girls inhaling. Make him docile for awhile. See how the other half lives.”

The sergeant opened his mouth to remonstrate the mischievous idea, and then Kevin spoke again. “Or, you could beat him down in his cell. That’s how we do it back home.”

The sergeant paused, glancing over in the direction of the Almighty’s cell, then looking down at the ground, engaged in thought. Nurse!” he shouted.

In the dusty streets outside the police station, a group of women hugged tears in their eyes. Some of them had decided to stay, preferring a life with the Almighty in the desert to anything else. Some angrily hopped on the nearest bus to the closest airport and train stations, vowing never to seek enlightenment in a desert commune ever again.

Nina, Tania, and Mary stood off to the side, holding each other’s hands. “Nina, why won’t you come back with us?” Mary asked.

“I can’t,” Nina protested. “I got you guys into this. I got a lot of them into this, too. I have to make it right somehow. I’ll take whoever wants to come with me back into the caves. We’ll start our commune and worship the Almighty, not a man. Will you come with me?”

Mary shook her head, blinking back the tears. “No, my great-aunt needs me.”

She blushed and looked towards the ground. “What you girls did, what HE did, I never, I mean, I never felt like that before. So alive and sexy and hot. It was wrong, but it was wonderful.”

Tania nodded in silent agreement. What would she, herself, do then? And what of the growing life inside of her? She paused, waiting for her conscience to tell her what to do.

The Goddess held Kevin’s hand and shook her head. “My love, it was beautiful, but it wasn’t real. I have to go home, or just go. I need to put my head in order. I am really not ready for anyone right now.”

Kevin smiled phonily. “Of course, I understand,” he said, as yet another arrow plunged into the gaping wounds of his heart.

“Please try to understand,” the Goddess whispered.

She kissed him on the cheek, then walked away into the teeming crowds of the marketplace.

Ramillal put a supportive hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Mary did the same. “What was her name?” he asked.

“I don’t even know,” Kevin answered. “Probably better that way, anyway.”

He put on a happy face to hide the pain of the loss. “Next time, when you suggest a vacation, let’s try Belmar or Atlantic City or something.”