The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

That beautiful face, its golden eyes and blonde hair haunted Ordelia’s dreams again. As it had been for months: patient, sweet, worried. The face of the literal goddess Ordelia had slept with. The perfect face hiding an imperfect heart.

She was smiling, but it was shaky and weak. A hand, slender and beautiful, was extended towards her. Was it beckoning or demanding? Or was it begging? Ordelia could no longer remember. She didn’t want to remember.

Ordelia tossed and turned. Her body, lengthy and lithe, curled almost into a ball. The pale pink wings anchored to her back, lined with beautiful feathers sharp like an eagle’s but downy like a swan’s, spasmed fitfully. In her waking hours they stabbed out at the air and sky, but in these tumultuous hours they were curled and weak. Her pearly breasts, round and plump unlike the rest of her (save her waist), were squished between her skinny arms. Fearful yelps jumped from her chattering mouth as she squirmed, her brilliant red eyes clamped shut behind long pretty eyelashes and streaming tears.

It had been eight years since the beautiful woman had been crowned. She was on top of the world. Not a soul on the planet had the nerve to even consider attacking her, in public or otherwise. And yet, as this figure slept, she was as a child: alone and weak. Afraid. The guards who stood outside the room (redundant as she insisted they were), ignored the sound to the best of their ability. It was a deeply unsettling one, but they stood still regardless. It was a long night, and long nights were fraught with peril. The Empress was away, and allowing the queen to come to harm would unforgivable.

Hours later, the sun mercifully deigned to rise. Birds sang, and the treasures of the imperial palace alit with all their splendor. As she did each day, the queen emerged from her chamber resplendent: a towering figure with four wings, clad in the black and silver of her wife’s empire, an armored dress that left her compact midriff exposed.

That dress and accompanying ensemble, with its bulky gauntlets that reached to the elbow and ornate, shiny greaves, a black skirt that barely reached below her waist before it split exactly in front (bearing a beautiful silver embroidery depicting a bush of thorned roses alight) with only a thin flap connecting it to the delicate chestpiece, was not practical. Many argued, correctly, that the armored pieces were worthless if her head, neck, upper arms, most of her thighs, and entire abdomen were completely exposed. That, however, was precisely the point.

The dress was a declaration. That she was powerful, and trusting, enough to bother with armor only for its aesthetic. That she was so far above conflict she could openly flaunt her own fragility without consequence.

Queen Ordelia smiled at the younger guard, who looked to be in his early twenties. He looked mostly human, lean and pretty with vibrant blue eyes and black hair that messily fell to his elbows, a long legged boy with thin lips pressed together in a glare of determination. What set him apart was the triangular pair of fluffy black ears protruding from his forehead, which had tufts of white fur in them, and the short but soft tail wagging quickly behind him. Ordelia felt her heart squeeze and fought the urge to shove his face in her chest. The only thing she regretted about this ridiculous getup was that it meant she couldn’t shove people’s faces in her chest and smother them in the almost motherly affection she held for those she had, in a life that now felt so distant, sworn to serve.

“Hello, sweetie,” the woman trilled in a sing-song, intoxicating voice renowned the world over for its splendor, “I trust I didn’t worry you too much?” The young man shook his head furiously, clutching his halberd close.

“N-not in the slightest, Your Majesty,” he sputtered, visibly beginning to sweat as his ears drooped a little. “I don’t know what sound you’re referring to.”

The queen gave a hearty laugh, gently pulling him close. She bent her knees a bit to bring her face on level with his and nuzzled the boy as a reward for his loyal service. “I’m not a tyrant, dear,” she whispered soothingly as she ran a hand through his soft black hair, “You don’t have to pretend I’m flawless.” He nodded eagerly and his ears perked up. Ordelia giggled softly to herself, continuing to pet her loyal guardian. Anyone who hurt him, she decided in her head, was going to die. But would they leave this mortal coil with a scream or a smile?

“My lady.”

She turned and saw another like the one she was petting. This one had blue hair, messy and jaw-length, modest breasts held tight by a shirt that exposed her midriff, and a skirt that came to her knees. It was Gina, and her strong arms and toned legs were as appealing as always. A sharp (literally, as Fen’s faces were a tad more angular and snout-like than a human’s) expression made her green, sparkling eyes less of a joy than they usually were. Something was wrong. Anything that made her frown was an Evil to be vanquished.

“What is it?” Asked Ordelia with a tone of genuine concern. She turned away from the boy to face her, her hand still idly stroking him like a pet while her body engaged the blue haired girl.

“The palace,” started Gina with a bit of hesitation, looking down with her fluffy golden ears and poofy matching tail dropping to signal fear. “It’s been...breached. B-but we captured them! Please don’t—!”

In an instant, Ordelia took two long, graceful strides. She lifted Gina off her feet and her lips met the girl’s, immediately turning her words first into a muffled yelp and then a wet, continuous whimper of delight. Gina welcomed Ordelia’s embrace, ears perking up and her tail going absolutely wild. She wrapped her legs around her Mistress’ waist and began humping, finding the metal surprisingly smooth and gentle to touch. Their tongues probed at one another, wrestling lovingly for a moment before Ordelia broke the kiss, holding her servant close and giving her a warm look. Gina gazed back with the unquestioning, simple eyes of one lost in adoration. It made Ordelia’s heart skip a beat.

“All of them?” She asked, and Gina nodded. “Well. I’ll just have to tend to them then.” Gina nodded eagerly.

“We didn’t kill any! And only one was injured!” Gina squealed, beaming with pride. Ordelia grinned and patted the girl’s soft little head.

“I’m so proud of you, honey. Why don’t you take the day off? I’m sure some lucky soul here would love to lounge in bed with you for an evening.” Gina’s jaw dropped and her tail went utterly wild.

“YES MISTRESS! THANK YOU, YOUR MAJESTY!”

Ordelia set her down, gently, and pretended not to notice that Gina’s leg seemed wet. What a good girl, she thought, and warmly flashed back to setting her free. It was a comfortable memory, turning the ugly chains around her wrists and neck to dust. Feeding her and tending to her injuries. Healing her.

Making her imprisonment nothing but a blurry memory. As the wretched time ought to be: little more real than a nightmare. Were she able, she’d reach back through the cruel current of time and make it so. Alas, this was all she could do.

“They’re in the dungeon, I take it?” Asked Ordelia. Gina stood perfectly straight, performing the empire’s salute. Instantly Ordelia replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, but Gina (despite clearly seeing so) was not swayed.

“Yes, your majesty!”

“Good, good.” Ordelia stroked her loyal attendant’s face, smiling a little as the girl nuzzled in and, loudly, purred. “I mean it. If you’re seen doing any more work today you’re on fanning duty for a week.” Gina widened one eye quizzically and tilted her head like a curious dog.

“But...it’s autumn. There’s no—”

“Exactly.” Replied the queen as she strode past, waving a hand over her head at the girl behind her. “Burning a candle from both ends gives little extra light.” It was a saying she used often for her more giving subjects. Were she looking, she might have noticed Gina rolling her eyes at her.

“As you wish, Your Highness!”

The dungeon wasn’t an especially pleasant place. It was cramped, more than a little dirty, and the faintest odor of blood clung in places to the walls like ghosts unable to relinquish their melancholy. But, still, it was nicer than the one she’d first met Gina in. Carpets had been added. Far more torches and lanterns, some of which were magic. Some of the cells had furniture, and they all had supplies of water. She frowned at the hall and crossed her arms, wishing she had less on her plate. In a day or two she could probably refurbish it herself. Such was the nature of a powerful wielder of magic: when you could solve a problem easily, it had all too often fallen beneath you.

On the way here she’d stopped to chat with one of her spouse’s Imperial Guard, a muscular woman with the face of a lion. She had reported that four captives had been taken that morning, two on their own and two in a group. She wondered whether the duo would be the best to start with. In the end she simply came to a stop outside the nearest cell with a new occupant.

“A lovely morning, stranger,” she began with a patient smile, folding her four wings inward to become less imposing, “what brings you to spend it here?”

On the other side of the door a figure stood up, obscured by a dark blue cloak. They were tall and while their frame was obscured, they couldn’t be too bulky. Their cloak seemed to billow slightly despite the air being still. “May I ask that you show me your face?” Ordelia inquired with a sweet tone. The figure stood straight, bringing it almost to her height. A voice, unsettlingly young for one bold enough to brave the palace solo, rang out from inside it.

“I have no words for you, treacherous harpy!” They seemed to spit at her, voice hostile and dripping with venomous intent.

“Those were words, young one.” Answered Ordelia with a patient grin. “Surely there’s been a miscommunication?” There was a moment of silence. “You needn’t have any to show me your face, besides.”

“I’ve no ears for your saccharine lies, you candied sarcophagus!” The tongue on this one.

“My guards took care not to hurt you. Pray tell why that is?” Replied Ordelia, maintaining her patient smile. She was used to this: she’d inherited an empire, after all, and her Empress’ subjects didn’t know her like Ordelia did.

“Can’t have a mutilated teenager dye on that pristine coat of lies you wear!” This time they did spit, in her face. At her face, anyway, it landed on the floor. She admired what she reckoned might be a pun. Whoever this person was, they had moxie.

“Please pull down your hood. You’re safe, I promise.” Ordelia answered, her voice laced with suggestive magic that easily slipped past the mind. The figure froze for a moment, no doubt trying to understand why they suddenly felt so safe. The queen would not hurt her. She’d given her word.

“I-if you insist.” They muttered, sounding confused. A pair of pale hands pulled down the cloak to reveal a young, elven face drawn taut and harrowed. The sunken eyes and concave cheeks adorning their face made it evident they hadn’t been doing well. Ordelia felt first sadness, then rage. Why was someone in her wife’s borders reduced to this?

“KIRIN!” She shouted, and the elf took a step back. They maintained a brave face, but they’d flinched. Fire bloomed in Ordelia’s soul. This was unacceptable.

“Reporting.” A girl, lithe and flexible with the orange ears of a tabby cat and a tail to go with them, appeared instantly at her side. The girl kneeled as she insisted she do every time she was called on. Ordelia turned to the elf.

“Did my shouting scare you?” The elf shook her head no, but the cracks in their persona were showing. She was trembling. “When was the last time you ate?” The elf pursed their lips and didn’t answer. Her stomach did. Ordelia turned around. “Have the best cooks available prepare a two-course meal for…” she turned back. “Would you mind telling me how you prefer to be addressed? He, she, they? And your name and how old you are, if that’s alright.”

The elf answered much quicker this time. Perhaps they’d been softened. Perhaps the trust had stuck. Perhaps confusion that their captor was being so kind made her more susceptible to the queen’s seductive magic. “My name is Nuri. I-I’m nineteen. You can call me she b…’’ hesitation. “—but I prefer they.”

“Excellent!” Chirped Ordelia. “Have a meal made for them, and if they don’t mind, have someone fix up their clothes.”

Ordelia turned away and walked a bit farther into the dungeon. When she came upon the next prisoner, it was another elf. This one was a man, with a strong jawline and powerful hands. They sat on the floor, cross-legged and with their spine totally straight, an air of mystique and dignity permeated their form. They wore leather armor with metal studs, adorned in places by lengths of lavender cloth. In one hand they held open an old, battered book, rich violet with a pair of encircled phoenixes painted on the front cover. Ordelia, and most anyone else, would instantly recognize the text-the Karma Sutra, the most widely read and owned holy book in the world.

Ordelia realized this was a member of the Lilac Inquisition. For an instant, a genuine feeling of dread impacted her gut like a cannonball. Ordelia decided, for now, to pretend she did not see it.

Three or four more cells and she found the last two. This was a pair of similar-looking humans, one man and one woman. Their wrists were tied behind their back, and both glared at her defiantly. They seemed to be in their early to mid twenties, with matching amber eyes and dark red hair. Neither seemed hurt. Ordelia realized that, in all likelihood, the inquisitor was the one reported injury and had used magic to heal themselves. That, or the elf had been a better actor than she expected.

“Greetings,” she began with a gentle smile, “How are—”

“Shut your mouth, whore-queen!” The boy didn’t shout as much as spray at her. She wiped spittle from her face, which drooped into one of annoyed resignation. They were those types. “You’re going to be killed! Gutted like a fish!” He threw himself at the bars, seeming to try and bite her. Ordelia merely stood in place, unimpressed. Why, she asked (herself, or the gods? She wasn’t certain), couldn’t they be like the elf? Ordelia grinned for a moment, trying not to chuckle. “Candied sarcophagus.” She’d have to steal that one. “Are you listening to me!?” He growled, pressing himself against the bars. The girl, sitting on the floor behind him, rolled her eyes.

“I told you this was a terrible idea, Mark.” She sighed. “We’ll be dead by daybreak. Save your breath.”

“No you won’t,” Ordelia purred with a devious smile as she gestured for Mark. His body went rigid, stiffly walked backward to a bed, and sat. “In fact, I think we can compromise.”

Ordelia gestured at the girl and muttered an incantation. ”Overpower mind.” She spoke in an ancient tongue, and magic reached out into the girl’s head. Engulfed it. Power she had no frame of reference to understand swept through her, dissolving her resistance easily. Ordelia’s presence, soothing and gentle, took its place. The woman loved Ordelia. Ordelia was her Queen.

“Good morning, Your Highness.” She said as she stood, smiling wide and heart pounding, “How can I help you?”

Ordelia sat in her chamber, a massive room mostly taken up by a single circular, impressive bed. Silky sheets and heavy blankets made it very comfortable, which the former invader greatly appreciated. Her wrists were still tied behind her back but that was okay.

“I love you, Your Majesty,” she yelped as she snuggled into the queen’s pillowy, comfortable body.

“I love you too,” Whispered Ordelia as she held the girl close. “Who are you?”

“I’m Izzy!” The human girl answered.

“No, I mean, you plural. What are you two doing here?”

“We’re nobles!” She and thinks if he kills you he’ll be accepted!”

Ordelia frowned. That was troubling. Not, or at least not entirely, that there were scummy corrupt nobles who preferred her betrothed’s warmongering sadist of a father. That wasn’t surprising. What gave her pause was someone feeling so outcast they’d risk attacking her to be taken back.

“Have I done something wrong, your majesty?” The girl asked with the same vapid, loving smile.

“No, darling. You’ve been excellent.”

Ordelia removed the gauntlets from her hands and used a weak spell to move them through the air onto a side table, where her own copy of the Karma Sutra sat, worn from years of dutiful service. She embraced Izzy, clutching the girl’s face against her neck. Izzy was short, with curly brown hair that had streaks of black near the tips. Izzy purred and wiggled as a hand lovingly wrapped its long, delicate fingers around one of her perky little breasts.

Izzy loosed a long, delighted whimper as another hand hooked into her skirt and pulled it to her knees. She stared up, gleefully, at Ordelia’s face and wiggled giddily. “I looooove you, Your Majesty,” she exclaimed as a curious hand explored the smooth, perfectly shaven thighs above her skirt, which ruffled pleasantly as her legs wriggled to the touch. A succulent pair of lips met hers and she kissed back, pouring love like she’d never felt into her perfect, all-loving monarch’s sweet yummy mouth. An arm clutched the back of her head and pressed her into the kiss as two pairs of wings pressed softly at her sides from all angles.They were soft, like being hugged by a cloud. She hugged her thighs to the hand now cupping her panties. Izzy moaned into Ordelia’s mouth, submissively allowing the probing tongue to toy with her any way it wanted.

Ordelia’s hand slipped into her panties. The instant it met her crotch Izzy trembled, waves of joy and pleasure overtaking her entire body. Izzy floated, lost, in an ocean of bliss, vaguely aware she was humping her beloved ruler’s hand, taking it inside of her body. Those heavenly fingers toyed with her clitoris and Izzy thrashed, gently, so weakly that the delicate wings holding her still kept her in place. Wave after wave of love exploded in every layer of her mind, obliterating everything but her deep, unquestioning devotion. She kissed and flailed and was fingered until it was all too much to take. With a loud, indecent squeal, Izzy orgasmed and then went limp, body resting against her precious Ordelia.

“Your...majesty...love you...so much…”