The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Syn froze and stared at the cat. “I... What?” She started at the sound of her own voice. It was her voice, but changed—slightly deepier, throatier, a perfect contralto purr. But compared to the talking stuffed animal, that was pretty minor.

“It’s me, child. Your old Miss Kitty,” it said.

“Okay, but, you died. I saw it! That... That thing came in, and—and you—” Syn flushed. She should be terrified to think of the literal monster which had killed Grankitty... But she couldn’t focus on that. Every time she did, she remembered what it had done to the redheaded beauty Grankitty had become. It had horrified her at the time, but imagining it now... Part of her wanted it. A big part.

It must have shown on her face, because the tiny stuffed animal claiming to be Grankitty said, “Starting to understand, are you?”

“What’s happened to me? How are you here? Why do I feel so... So...”

“You can say it,” said Grankitty. “I think it’s best you do.”

“...so horny?” Syn managed. And she was, more than she’d ever been in her life—which, as a teenage girl growing up literally in a nunnery, was a lot.

“Yes,” said Grankitty. “That’d be the curse. I’m sorry child, I never imagined it’d be you.”

“What curse? Why—how do I—” How do I get uncursed, she had been about to say. But, was that really what she wanted? Or just to get off... She trailed slow fingers down her bare midriff, and shivered. It felt so good, she could only imagine what it’d feel like to—

“Syn!” Grankitty snapped. “Pay attention, this is important!”

Syn jerked back as if struck. Grankitty had never spoken to her like that before!

Seeing her expression, Grankitty sighed. “I’m sorry, child, but there’s no time to waste, and I need to explain what happened to you. The curse... Well, it’s not just a curse, it’s a blessing, too. Black magic and white at the same time, which doesn’t make sense to me, but that’s what it is. When I died, it jumped to the nearest person that qualified...”

“Qualified?” Syn managed, trying to listen to Grankitty and not squirm. She was tingling and empty, and so, so wet...

“Like I said, it’s a holy blessing. It only works on a virgin. And it’s an evil curse, so it only works on someone who’s six plus six plus six years old. And when it found you, it did... That.”

Syn looked down at herself. She was definitely farther from the ground than she was used to, and her tummy was perfectly taught. She felt her butt through her skirt—yes, that was definitely plusher than it used to be. And her breasts... she felt them through what was left of her shirt, and shivered. “Ohh... this doesn’t feel like a curse...” she moaned.

“It is one,” Grankitty insisted. “Oh yes, you’re blessed too—with strength, beauty, power, inexhaustible energy, supernatural senses, healing—but the curse twists all that. Angelic beauty becomes a body built for sin, all that energy becomes lust, your senses of touch and pleasure enhanced as much as sight or sound.”

“Mmm, pleasure doesn’t sound so bad...” said Syn, still feeling her breasts. They were bigger, firmer, and softer all at once, somehow, and every stroke and squeeze sent fireworks shooting up into her brain and electricity down into her pussy, and since when did she even think words like “pussy”?

But now that she was thinking about it... Slowly her hand drifted toward her skirt. She touched her leg, just below the hem. Smooth, silky, hairless skin met her finger, and she moved it a little higher, just above the hem. She couldn’t believe she was doing this right in front of Grankitty, she couldn’t... but maybe Grankitty wouldn’t notice—

“You stop that right now, young lady,” Grankitty snapped.

It was the voice of an annoyed old woman scolding her about sex. Some things go deeper than magic, and Syn could almost feel the ruler rapping her knuckles. She blushed, snatched her hands out from under her skirt, and put them behind her back.

“There’s much worse to the curse, too. First thing is, you’re stuck like this until sundown. If you can make it that long without an orgasm, you can go back to normal—but if you cream before then, then you’ve got to go hold out all the way to the next sundown.“

“Um,” said Syn. “So I’ve got superpowers and everything feels amazing and I look hot. Why would I ever want to go back to normal?”

“Well for starters,” said Grankitty, “you think you can go home like this? Will anyone even recognize you?”

“Oh,” said Syn. “Yeah, that’s...” She trailed off, head cocked to one side. “Do you hear something?”

“And there’s worse, too. If you ever—”

“Hang on,” said Syn. “Really, do you hear that? It sounds like...” Her eyes widened and she turned to look out the smashed wreckage of the store’s front wall. Beyond was a scene of carnage she’d almost managed to forget: the street torn up, buildings smashed and half-collapsed, dead bodies. And somewhere out in there... “Someone’s calling for help!” she cried. “Come on!”

She jumped through the whole the creature had left, and shouted in mixed fear, surprise, and joy as she found herself gracefully leaping half a block without meaning to.

“Wait!” called Grankitty after her. “You mustn’t—ah, dangit.” Grumbling, she tottered forward on tiny stuffed-animal legs, and laboriously began climbing up through the hole herself.

Teleportation was very hard, and took a lot of power, if your destination was to a real place. But some teleports were easier than others: if you went somewhere nearby, or that wasn’t your real destination, or that had strong associations with transition and movement, or that very few living things would ever treat as a home or destination. The practical upshot was, teleporting to the nearest airport wasn’t that hard at all. Teleporting to the nearest bus station was even easier, but never worth it.

The last wizard in the world materialized in an unoccupied men’s room stall and walked out into the terminal. He was already past security, of course, but he didn’t have a ticket or ID. Not that it mattered; those sorts of rules were for other people.

He found the flight he wanted and scanned the travelers waiting to board. He soon found what he was looking for: a young woman, tall and slim, with long, wavy brown hair and a pretty face. She was wearing a college sweatshirt and jeans—a private college, and designer jeans, and the bracelet on her wrist and the chain around her neck were real gold.

Softly, he touched her mind. Yes, as he expected: a college student from a wealthy family, headed home for the summer. First-class, of course. Ticket number... ah, yes, 4B.

Now came the slightly harder part: he slowly expanded his mind, reaching out to cover the entire waiting area for this flight, but carefully walling off the flight attendants and everyone waiting for for other flights. He sent a thought out seeking, and it soon came bouncing back: 4A. A middle-aged man in a suit held the ticket for the seat next to the wizard’s target.

The wizard narrowed his focus down to that man, and pushed a few thoughts into his head. A moment later, the man blanched, then jumped hastily to his feet, grabbed his carry-on, and rushed to the bathroom the wizard had just vacated.

The wizard smiled as he walked up to the girl with the ticket for 4B. Not his most subtle work, but it would do.

Jennifer had no idea who the man was who sat next to her. He was small, compactly built, generally nondescript. Possibly Asian, but she couldn’t quite place what made her think that.

He wasn’t her type at all, and besides which, she had a boyfriend at school. But the man was charming, and actually quite handsome, and as it turned out he coincidentally had the seat right next to hers. (Though if she or any of the flight attendants had thought about it really hard, they’d realize they had no memory of ever actually seeing his ticket—but why would they think about that when they knew he had seat 4A?)

By the time the captain warned them to prepare for takeoff, Jennifer realized she wanted this mysterious stranger more than she’d ever wanted anyone. By the time the plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign turned off, she was surreptitiously stroking his cock. A minute later, it was in her mouth.

By the time they landed, there were three new truths in Jessica’s life: First, she was now part of the Mile-High Club. Second, she was going to bring this man home with her to meet her family and stay with them.

Finally, and most importantly, she belonged to him. Completely, utterly, and forever.

Syn soon found the source of the faint cries for help she’d heard from the shop: they were coming from under a pile of rubble about three blocks away. She grabbed a chunk of concrete and twisted metal as big as she was and lifted it. To her surprise, it came up easily, and she tossed it aside. Other pieces of rubble followed just as easily.

How strong am I now? she wondered, but there was no time to consider because there he was, a barely conscious man. She pulled him from the rubble, but it looked bad. His clothes were soaked with blood, and he had stopped calling for help; now he just lay in her arms, shivering.

What do I do? she thought. Part of her was very aware she was holding a man across her lap. The weight felt good, the warmth... She shook her head, trying to clear it and think. Grankitty had said something, hadn’t she? Syn had been so distracted by the feel of her new body, of her fingers on skin... and she was getting distracted again. She needed to think! Grankitty had said, had said—healing, that was it! Part of the blessing was healing!

But does that mean I’m good at healing from my own injuries, or I can heal other people? It had to be other people, because if it wasn’t, this man was going to die, right here in her hands. But how? How could she heal them?

Something else Grankitty said, that the curse twisted the blessing. It turned beauty into sex, energy to lust, right? So if it twisted my healing powers the same way...

She knew what she had to do. Or what she thought she had to do, and it was what part of her really, really wanted to do. She lay the man gently on the ground, and then slowly, trembling as uncertainty fought wanting to help fought the yawning chasm of need inside her, she unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

It was only the second penis she’d ever seen in real life, but the sight of it made her mouth water. All thought ceased, and something like an autopilot took over. Before she knew it, his cock was in her mouth—and just like pussy, that wasn’t a Cynthia word, but it was definitely a Syn one.

It shouldn’t have worked. He was half-unconscious from blood loss; there wasn’t enough left to get him hard, even for the lips of a teenage girl built like a wet dream. But this girl was imbued with powerful magic both light and dark, and her mouth had both the healing touch of an angel and the infernal skill of a succubus.

He hardened rapidly in Syn’s mouth, and she moaned in growing excitement. She wasn’t even thinking about healing him anymore; she just needed to be filled. She pulled her mouth off his cock with an audible pop, then scrambled forward to straddle him. As her soaking pussy slid slowly down around his cock, her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened.

It felt incredible. It was indescribable, like nothing else she’d ever felt, a feeling of fullness that made the emptiness inside her turn to molten chocolate and flow out through her whole body. There was no need to think, no hesitation, no uncertainty: she let the pleasure sweep her away and began to ride him.

Head thrown back in ecstasy, hair flying, her skirt pushed up around her waist, Syn hastily untied her blouse and let it fall open. Her tits sprang free, bouncing as she did, and that felt incredibly too. She grabbed them, squeezed them, stroked her hard nipples while she slid up and down on the man’s cock, and all too quickly she felt herself tightening, winding up like a spring.

The man was stirring below her, groaning. Still not really conscious, but beginning to thrust up to meet Syn’s own movements. It was working! But that hardly mattered compared to how she felt, rising higher and higher, a wave building toward—I’m not supposed to do this, she remembered. Grankitty said not to, not to, not to...

She shrieked in ecstasy as she came, a mix of cries of “yes!” and wordless noises of blissful release. Her hair danced as her head thrashed back and forth in her spasms, her quim quivering around his cock, pure pleasure exploding out through every part of her.

Just as she was coming down, the man spasmed as well, and suddenly her pussy was filled with something else as well, thick and hot and creamy. Another wave spread outward through her, a wave of pure love and peace. Her eyes closed as she sagged bonelessly above him, a puppet with her strings cut.

When they opened again, she saw him in a new light. Her confusion was gone. Everything made sense now. Slowly she lifted herself off his cock and then knelt next to him, aware now of the most important new truth of a day full of new truths:

She belonged to him. Completely, utterly, and forever.