The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Come to me,” intoned Karnath. He sat in a high-backed chair of polished black wood, almost like a throne, in the center of a pentagram of black candles whose flames burned an eerie blue.

Unwillingly, Christina took a step forward. All around her, women in hooded black cloaks chanted something she couldn’t quite make out. It was dark, and she couldn’t see their faces, but the cloaks opened in front to show the women were naked, kneeling, and playing with themselves.

“Come to me,” Karnath repeated, and Christina took an unwilling step forward.

She bit her lip. He looked so good! She ached to touch the hard muscles of his naked chest, to feel his warm thighs against hers, his hard cock plunging into her like it had the other day. She could feel how wet she was, and knew he knew as well. He didn’t even have to speak, just smirk that damnably sexy, knowing smirk, and she took another step. And then another, and then another, and then another, and she was inside the pentagram.

“Mine now,” he said.

And she woke, gasping, in her bed. She sat up, chest heaving, not sure if terror or arousal was behind her lack of breath. Is he getting stronger? she wondered.

But that was impossible. He was trapped in the pentagram, unable to feed. She looked over at the book open on her desk. It had confirmed that he couldn’t leave the pentagram without his summoner’s permission. It had also confirmed that the fact that Christina survived sex with him without losing her soul meant he was unusually weak or she was unusually strong-willed, probably both. And he couldn’t get stronger without souls to feed on.

Still. The dream. Once an incubus gets its hooks in you, it can invade your dreams, use them to help it corrupt you. And the stronger it is, the less of a hook it needs to do that—and I gave him a pretty big hook.

I need to get out of this house.

But that wasn’t going to happen tonight. The book had at least provided one source of hope: time. Souls, it seemed, could heal with time. The longer she stayed away from him, the more his hold would weaken. Eventually, she should be free enough to go back to the basement and banish him.

She looked at the clock: 2 a.m. Hours to go before morning, and sleep deprivation probably didn’t help resisting an incubus. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have another of those dreams. With a sigh, she settled back down to sleep.

I will banish him, she thought. She could see the scene, the familiar basement. She would say the words, so simple: “Go back to your realm and do not return.“

But the words stuck in her throat as her desires bubbled up. Leslie was there, smiling, curled at his feet. What would happen to her, if he were banished?

“You know exactly what would happen,” said Leslie. “His will would remain in me, working in this world, unbound. The only way to truly rid this world of him is to kill me, to kill everyone he has claimed.”

“I can’t,” said Christina.

“I know,” said Leslie. She stood and walked toward Christina, her hips swaying invitingly. “And there’s another option. You could enjoy me... use me the way you always wanted... the reason you summoned him in the first place...”

She bent down, and Christina leaned up, and their lips met—while Karnath’s mocking laughter echoed in her ears.

She woke up again, this time to sunlight streaming in through her window and the obnoxiously cheerful chirping of a bird.

“Fuck,” said Christina.

Christina was right, of course. Karnath was growing stronger, one will with the strength of multiple souls, spread between multiple minds and bodies. Leslie of course, and Christina’s mother Ellen, plus Leslie’s teammates Ashley, Cassandra, Krishorna, and Tamika, Ellen’s coworker Lucy, and Tamika’s neighbor Kim. He could not yet access her waking mind or overwhelm her will, but he could see into her dreams, shape them to suit his purposes. Doubt, want, uncertainty, these would slow the healing of her soul, until he could get her back into this basement and claim her at last.

In the meantime, it was another school day, and there were plenty more souls to claim.

Christina splashed her face in the school bathroom’s sink, trying to wake herself up. With all the dreams, her night hadn’t been very restful, and she needed to focus today. She needed to at least pretend to be paying attention in class—the last thing she wanted was for her mother to get called in.

She straightened up, and saw in the mirror who was standing behind her. Her heart sank. Not now! Not today!

“Well if it isn’t the dyke.” Kim lolled against the wall, slim and leggy, her pretty face marred as usual by a contemptuous scowl. Kim, as near as Christina could tell, hated everyone, and always had, at least since the seventh grade when Christina first met her. Kim always had a reason why everyone was inferior to her—the jocks and cheerleaders were too dumb, the geeks and goths too weird, the mean girls too fake, and so on. And she never, ever failed to let people know about it.

“Don’t call me that,” said Christina.

Kim smiled false-sweetly. “Oh, did I hurt your feeeeee-wings? Was I not respectful enough to your lifestyle?“

Kim had been after Christina for being short, and pale, and “fat”—which she wasn’t, unless compared to a stick like Kim—for six years, but a few months back she’d started in with a new one: gay. That had been Leslie’s ultimate betrayal. Christina could have handled the rejection, the awkwardness, even Leslie breaking off their friendship after Christina, in a moment of weakness, tried to kiss her; but she could not forgive Leslie for telling Kim. Or telling someone who told someone who told Kim, more likely, but still.

“Fuck off, Kim,” said Christina, pushing past her.

“Too late,” she said, quietly. “I’m already his.”

“What?” asked Christina, whirling on Kim. “What did you say?”

Kim scoffed. “I didn’t say anything, weirdo. You going crazy now, too?”

Christina grabbed Kim by the collar. “No, I heard you! You said you’re his! That’s not possible! How—”

Kim shoved Christina back. “Don’t touch me, dyke!”

Christina staggered backwards, shaking her head. She’d been sure she heard—but no. It was impossible. It had to be. Maybe she was going crazy? Either way, she needed to get away. She rushed out of the bathroom, Kim’s mocking smile boring into her back.

The moment the door shut, Kim’s face went blank. It had been a calculated risk, but it had paid off, seeding yet more uncertainty in Christina. The less she trusted herself, her senses, her thoughts, the easier it would be draw her into Karnath’s web. Self-indulgently, he permitted the Kim-host a brief orgasm.

Shay parked and stepped out of her car, stretching in the bright sunlight. A petite, dark-skinned girl with a natural afro, doe eyes, and compact curves, her cheerleading uniform—worn all day today, a school tradition the Wednesday before a big game—complimented her form perfectly.

Yes, thought Karnath/Leslie, stepping forward. She’ll do nicely. “Hi, Shay,” she said, stepping toward the girl. Her teammates and fellow puppets of Karnath followed close behind.

“Hey, Les,” said Shay. “Hi Kris.” She and Krishorna had been classmates since grade school, though never that close. Still, she basically trusted the taller girl, and at least new and liked all the basketball team members. Nonetheless, there was something... off, about the way they were looking at her, the way they were—well, if she didn’t know better, the way they were surrounding her. “Uh, shouldn’t we all be getting to class? We’re gonna be late.”

“Oh, that we are,” said Leslie. Nearby, Tamika glanced around the parking lot. It was empty, and since she knew that, Karnath knew it, too. And since he knew it and wanted the others to know it, they did, too.

So there was no one to hear Shay cry out as they grabbed her.

After homeroom, Christina went to her locker, head spinning. She’d been a little late, because she’d peaked in the window of Mr. Simmond’s homeroom. Leslie and Tamika hadn’t been there. She’d checked Mlle Girard’s homeroom too, and there was no sign of Ashley or Krishorna. She didn’t know what homeroom Cassandra was in, but she hadn’t seen her, either, and she was willing to bet none of the girls were in school. “All five seniors on the basketball team are out,” she muttered under breath. “That can’t be a coincidence.” Not realizing she was getting a little louder, and still quite quiet, she said, “The corruption could be spreading through half the girls in the senior class by now.”

“Just half?” someone asked wryly from next to her, and Christina practically jumped out of her skin.

“What?” she asked, turning quickly to face the speaker: the girl with the locker two down from Christina, Mara or Marie or something like that. She and Christina had been in the odd class together over the course of school, but never really friends. There’d just never been much reason to talk. She was a little taller than Christina and much skinnier, pale and blue-eyed, with dark straight hair to her shoulders and a beauty mark just to the right of her mouth. She was dressed pretty typically for her, which meant a goth look so outdated it was constantly threatening to wrap back around to being in style. Today that meant black jean shorts, torn fishnets, black boots, and a tight black t-shirt with a red flag on it.

“What?” Mara/Marie echoed back.

“I mean... what do you mean, just half?”

“Oh, you know, just figured you were finally waking up and realizing how fucked our classmates are.” There was an odd cheerfulness to her, despite her dark clothes. The statement wasn’t Kim announcing her superiority; it was just an acknowledgment of a fact. “You know, religion, capitalism, heteronormativity, popularity, all that BS.”

Christina stared at the other girl for a moment, then shook her head. “Never mind.” She pulled out the book for her next class, closed the locker, and turned away.

The goth girl took a couple of quick steps to come up beside her. “Okay, if that’s not what you meant, what is it?”

“Forget it,” said Christina, quickening her pace. “It’s not your problem.”

The other girl was taller, though, and kept up easily. “Shit, you’re really worried about something, aren’t you? Christina, right? I’m Mary.”

Christina stopped abruptly and turned on the other girl. “You really want to know?” she hissed. “Really? There’s a fucking demon in my basement and he possessed my best friend and I think every senior on the girl’s basketball team and probably other people, too, and I’m the only one who might be able to stop him and I’m fucking terrified he’ll get me too!“

“Wow,” said Mary. “No wonder you’re in such a rush.”

“See? I told you! Now leave me alone.”

“Hey!” said Mary, chasing after her, and Christina reluctantly stopped. “I’m sorry. Look, you’re obviously really upset about this.”

“Oh, fuck off,” said Christina. “You know you don’t believe me. I barely believe me!”

“I do believe you,” said Mary, and Christina could see she meant it.

Shay’s nightmare had become a dream somehow. She’d been grabbed, forced into her own car, driven to who-knows-where with a bag shoved over her head, and when it was finally removed, she was in some kind of basement.

And so was the most gorgeous man in the world, tall and strong and powerful and very, very impressively naked.

“Fuck,” said Shay. But she still struggled, still tried to escape—fruitlessly. Her captors outnumbered her five to one, and every one of them had at least a foot on her. She was far from weak, but she couldn’t get away.

And then they drew near him, and shoved her into his arms, and getting away somehow stopped being a priority. From afar, he’d been gorgeous. But now, though Shay had no way of knowing this, she was inside the pentagram, faced with the full force of his power, and her vital young body responded with enthusiasm.

“Oh god,” she whimpered as his arms circled her. She raised her hands to try to push him away, but couldn’t help but stroke the smooth skin of his bare chest. It felt so good under her hands, and his arms felt so good on her.

Her head spun, pleasure and desire making her giddy, and she was barely aware of him stripping her. Towards the end, she even tried to help. Soon, just like all the others, she was begging him to take her, and he happily obliged.