The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The house looked normal from the outside. In Gwen’s experience, they usually did. Just a quiet suburban house on a quiet suburban street on a quiet early-summer evening. It was still light out, and would be for a couple more hours, but there were no kids playing outside. There wouldn’t be, in this kind of neighborhood—kids would be tucked away in their bedrooms playing video games, on organized playdates, or at soccer practices and piano lessons. Parents in these kinds of neighborhoods would never let their kids just run around in the carefully manicured yards, or worse the street; that was what those people did, not that they would ever admit who they meant by those people.

In Gwen’s experience, these were the neighborhoods where parents did some of the worst things to their kids—the same things their parents had done to them. Most of it, unfortunately, was legal.

With a sigh, she knocked on the door of Christina’s house. After a long silence, she knocked again. Anyone home? she wondered.

Christina sat in the corner, knees tucked up against her chin and arms wrapped around her legs, quietly watching as Rajit explained something to Bridget.

Mary leaned her back against the wall next to Christina, then slid down slowly to sit next to her. “Done practicing?” she asked.

“Tired,” said Christina. “Anyway, I’m not really getting anywhere.”

Mary shrugged. “You’re doing better than me. I still haven’t succeeded at anything, and Rajit said the magic-detecting spell didn’t register me at all. I don’t think I’m going to be much help.”

“You’ve helped me,” said Christina. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” said Mary, her slight blush showing against her pale skin. She nodded at Bridget and Rajit. “Not as much as those two want to help each other though.”

Christina blinked. “You think?” She studied them a moment. Bridget had her head down even while she smiled up at the taller boy, her whole upper body tilted slightly forward. He was leaning in a little bit too, and as Christina watched, he and Bridget both laughed briefly without ever taking their eyes off each other. “Oh,” she said.

“Yup.”

Something sparked briefly in Bridget’s hand, and Rajit whooped. “You did it!”

“I had a good teacher,” Bridget replied shyly.

“Woof,” said Mary to Christina. Then, louder, “Get a room, you two!”

Bridget’s blush and Rajit’s flustered sputtering were enough to actually get Christina to smile.

That night, Christina tossed in uneasy sleep. Her sleep had been troubled by dark dreams ever since she fled her home—but tonight was different. Tonight she felt like something was pulling at her, calling to her. Twice now she’d woken with a start, certain there was someone in her room, searched the room desperately, and struggled to get back to sleep when she didn’t see anyone.

It was dark in her room, but the little mote of darkness that floated in the window was darker still, visibly black against the dim grayness of night. Another soon floated in behind it, and then another and another, until soon a steady stream of black motes flowed into the room, gathering into a growing, amorphous dark shape that hovered near Christina’s head.

Slowly, a pair of tendrils extended down toward the floor from the main mass, and another from each side. The dark shape gradually resolved into a vaguely human form bent over the bed, gazing down at Christina’s face. Then her eyes opened.

“Hello, Christina,” said Karnath.

She tried to scream—and no sound came out. She tried to scramble away from him—and she couldn’t move.

“No point trying to resist,” he said. “You can’t. Not when I have this.” He straightened and held out his hand. A shimmering swirl of glowing threads formed, intricate and delicate, yet shining with a powerful light.

Christina had never seen anything like it before, but she recognized it instantly. “My soul,” she said. It seemed he would let her talk, just not scream.

“Yes,” he said with a smile, and took a large bite out of it. Christina cried out in pain as he tore a part of her essence away, or tried to—once again, nothing came out. A moment later, as the pain faded, pleasure flooded in to take its place, her entire helpless body tensing and releasing in a moment of ecstasy, then relaxing into the sleepy euphoric haze that followed.

Shimmering blue-green strands trailed from Karnath’s mouth to the mass as he pulled his face away, gradually severing and dangling free like the strands of cheese on a slice of hot pizza. In his hand, the swirling light of her soul dimmed a little. “You see?” he said. “It’s not so bad, is it? A moment of loss and then the pleasure of surrender.”

“Please,” Christina moaned. “Please stop.”

“Stop?” Karnath asked. “Why would I ever stop? This world of steel and hate you mortals have built is a feast for me. So many young women denying their desires, taught to dim and hide the brilliance of their souls, to tear each other down and rip each other apart. Such easy prey you have become.”

“You’re a monster,” said Christina. She tried desperately to move. Instinctively, she knew that if she could just crook a finger or twitch a toe, the spell would be broken and she would be free—but they just refused to budge.

“Demon, actually,” Karnath replied.

“You could let me go,” Christina pleaded, still trying to move.

“And would you let me continue to feed, to grow, to extend my reach?” he asked. “Or would you try to find some way to defeat me, little summoner?”

“I...” Of course she would fight him. But if she could find a way to convince him otherwise—

“Don’t bother lying,” Karnath said. “A moot point, regardless. We are connected, bound together as summoner and summoned, and that connection grows stronger as I do. No matter where you go, I will always find a way to follow.”

“No!” cried Christina, and found that she could. Her limbs responding at last, she rolled away from him, out of bed, and ran for the door.

It led into the basement of her house, where Karnath stood, waiting, in the circle in the corner.

Christina whirled to face the Karnath behind her. “How?” she demanded. “How are you doing this? How are you out of the circle?”

He smiled. “I told you, child. Our connection grows stronger as I do, and there is nowhere you can go to escape me.”

Christina looked back over her shoulder at the Karnath in the basement. “No,” she said. “No, the answer’s simpler than that. You are still in the circle! This isn’t real! I’m dreaming, aren’t I?“

“Clever girl.” He smiled. “I cannot lie to you, or refuse to answer your questions. Yes, you are dreaming.”

“You’re getting stronger,” Christina said. “You’re able to get into my dreams now, but you haven’t left the circle at all.”

Karnath inclined his head. “True.”

“Then this is my dream,” said Christina. ”Mine! Get out!” She gestured, and the Karnath in front of her dissolved into a cloud of motes again. “And that’s not really my soul, my soul is here!” She slapped a hand against her chest. Blue-green light spilled out between her fingers, and out of her eyes, a brilliant wave that swept away the motes of darkness.

“You cannot escape,” said Karnath from behind her. She turned to see the basement, still impossibly through the door of an above-ground room, and him, lurking in the corner of it, trapped.

“Watch me,” Christina replied, then walked around the bed, slid the partially-open window the rest of the way up, and climbed through it.

Or tried to. A hand gripped her ankle, just tight enough to hurt, and yanked her back into the room and threw her onto the bed.

“Ridiculous girl,” Karnath said smoothly. “You understand nothing. I built this dream around you as you slept. It is mine, not yours.” He gestured, and she was flung onto her back, spread-eagled. A twitch of his fingers, and the t-shirt and panties she’d slept in disintegrated. “You are powerless, helpless.”

“No,” she gasped, struggling against the force that gripped her. “I am stronger than you! I can fight you!”

“Can you, though?” he asked. “How much of your soul have I devoured already? Don’t you feel it? The exhaustion, the futility of resistance, the steady, unending pull back to me? Don’t you remember how good it felt when I started to take you?” He rolled his fingers, and she felt a ghostly hand tease its way up her thigh. “I know you crave more of that feeling, you cannot hide that from me.”

Christina stifled a moan. “I am never going to give in!”

“But you already did,” he said. “When I was weaker than I am now, and you were stronger. Do you really think you can hold out?” The teasing echoes of his fingers danced up over her belly to her breasts, and though she continued to suppress the urge to moan, she couldn’t stop her breath from quickening or the flush spreading out from her breastbone.

“I—I will! As long as it takes, until we can beat you!”

“We?” he purred. “But you’re all alone here. No one to help you. No one to save you. Helpless, hopeless... why struggle when you know you will fail? When you know, deep down, you want to fail?“

And part of her did. Christina couldn’t deny that. But she refused to break. “No,” she said firmly. “I’ll fight you, no matter what it takes.

“Impressive,” he said. “But pointless. This isn’t real, remember? Just a dream. I cannot take your soul here... here you can surrender, and feel that pleasure, and yet wake yourself and free.”

“I... what?” Christina stared up at him, struggling to process what he just said. “You’re lying!”

“You know I can’t,” Karnath replied. “Not to you. I cannot take your soul here, or any part of it. Only the actions of your true, conscious, waking self can increase my grip on your soul.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Because I wish for you to know.”

Which means it gives him some kind of advantage, Christina thought, while his invisible hands stroked and teased and caressed her body. It doesn’t give him my soul, but it gives him some other kind of leverage. He tweaked her nipples, and her back arched, the moan she’d been trying to suppress finally escaping. Because... She struggled to focus. Because it reminds me of how good it feels. It gets me in the habit—oh fuck, fuck, fuck yes! Her thoughts scattered momentarily, shattered by the pleasure of his touch. Gets me in the habit of, of... surrendering! To temptation...

But there was no true danger here. Nothing to fear. Only the promise of overwhelming pleasure, pleasure she craved so badly. “Fuck me...” she moaned, and he was on her. As good as his ethereal touch had felt, his actual hands were so much better, and his lips and tongue better still as he nibbled at her neck, stroked the curve of her hip, his hard cock pressing against her thigh while she threw her suddenly free arms and legs around him, pulling him against her, into her. “Fuck me...” she repeated feverishly. “Please, please, I need it, I need mph!” His mouth pressed against hers, and she welcomed his tongue gratefully, a part of him inside a part of her, a shadow of what she craved but still something, anything—

“Ah!” She broke the kiss and threw her head back as he ran a finger over the lips of her wet pussy. “No,” she moaned. “Please no, no more teasing, just do it!”

Then he was in her, and an orgasm was exploding over her before he even completed the thrust. Emptiness, hollow, desperate need, followed in its wake as he pulled out—but then he was thrusting back in, and she was cumming again so hard. Emptiness. Climax. Emptiness. Climax. Emptiness. Clima—

Christina woke with a gasp, her tangled sheets soaked with sweat and her cum. Sunlight gleamed in through the window, but did nothing to lift the horror and despair that settled over her as she remembered her dream. He’s in my head, she thought. He’s going to do this every night... But that wasn’t the worst thought. That was the thought that bubbled up beneath, treacherous and dangerous: ...I hope.