The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lawrence had given up. Bleeding, exhausted, he’d finally stopped calling for help; none was coming. The face of an angel appeared in his vision, and he wanted to reach out to her, to beg her to take him to whatever came next.

Instead she took out his cock.

It didn’t make any sense, but it felt good. As her lips wrapped around him, Lawrence realized he was going to die getting a blowjob from an angel. That didn’t exactly fit with his vague memories of childhood Sunday School, but given how much else they’d either gotten wrong or avoided telling him, that wasn’t surprising.

Also not surprising: it was the best blowjob of his life. If people knew this is what heaven is like, he thought, nobody would ever risk going the other way.

Then her mouth left his cock. “No,” he tried to say. “Don’t stop!” He couldn’t make more than a vague moaning sound, but she must have understood, because then she was straddling him, riding him, and as she did, strength flowed into him.

I’m alive, he thought as he began to thrust up into her. Holy shit, I’m alive! His thrusts became more energetic, more eager, and then with a groan he came, back arching as the best orgasm of his life burst through him.

Afterwards, he felt the most incredible sense of peace, a blissful drifting lassitude. What was that? he wondered. He’d heard of people having mystical near-death experiences, but he’d never heard of someone fucking an angel in one.

He opened his eyes again. A naked girl was kneeling over him, blonde and beautiful, with the same face as his “angel” but a body that suggested she came from the other direction. It was her expression, however, that made him certain she wasn’t an angel—an expression of wonder and awe, directed at him.

“Master,” she said in a voice as dark and sweet as chocolate and as hot as fudge. “Are you all right? Did it work? Did I heal you?”

Lawrence remembered something hitting him in the side, sending him sprawling. There’d been pain, and blood, and then the ceiling crashing down on him and darkness. He felt his side; his shirt was shredded and he felt the stickiness of still-drying blood, but there was no pain, no wound.

He sat up. “Who are you. What’s—how am I not injured?”

She bowed her head. “I’m Syn, Master. Unless you want to call me something else, of course! You’re not injured because I healed you.”

“Healed me?” asked Lawrence. “How did you—wait, ‘Master’?”

Syn looked at him with confusion. “I... I don’t really understand it myself, Master. I was trying to heal you, and then you came and I realized I was born to serve you and please you in every possible way, forever.”

Lawrence scrambled to his feet. “Um,” he said. He realized his dick was still hanging out of his (surprisingly, mostly intact) pants and hastily tucked it back in. He couldn’t help but notice Syn’s eyes tracking it hungrily as he did. “Did we, uh...” He could feel the blush starting. “Did we, you know, you and I...”

Syn smiled like a tropical sunrise. “Oh, yes, Master. It’s how I healed you. I hope I please you, it was wonderful for me...“

“Crap,” he said. “Okay, look, I don’t know what’s going on with this ‘Master’ shtick or what you did to make my injuries... vanish... or whatever it is you did, but I have a fiancee, okay. This didn’t... this needs to have not happened.“

Syn’s smile collapsed like a tropical republic after the CIA got involved. “I... I don’t... you don’t want me..?“

Lawrence paled. “Look, I don’t know who, or, or what you are, but I’m not... I don’t think you... I was barely conscious, okay? I didn’t mean to—I mean, I did, but I didn’t—look, I was just in an accident, I need to call my fiancee and go to a hospital.” He pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked, but otherwise it still seemed to be working.

He started to leave, and Syn flowed gracefully to her feet and followed. He stopped. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Syn blushed prettily. “I’m... going with you?” she asked. “You own me now, I need to be nearby in case you want me.”

“Um,” he said, mind whirling. Who is this girl? What’s this ‘owning her’ shit? “I told you, I have a fiancee. I need you to, to—just stay here a while, okay?“

“Yes, Master,” Syn replied contritely, and remained standing where she was while he went out of the ruined building and into the street.

Syn’s heart had broken when her Master rejected her. But then he had given her an order. There was no question in her head of whether to obey; it was as natural as breathing. So she stood and waited while he left.

She kept standing there, waiting, while distantly she could hear crews searching through the rubble a block over, trying to find survivors. She wondered if any of them had found her Master. Then she heard high-pitched grumbles and a scrabbling sound from behind her.

She turned to see Grankitty reach the top of a pile of rubble, then slip and roll down it toward her. The little stuffed animal clambered to her feet and glared up at Syn.

“Where’re your clothes, young lady?” she asked. “What have you been doing?”

Syn smiled beatifically. “I met the most wonderful man, Grankitty. He was hurt and I healed him, and then I realized that I’m his slave.“

Grankitty groaned. “Are you serious? You’ve been a magical girl five minutes, and you’re already Bonded?“

Syn giggled. “’Bonded.’ I like how that sounds!”

“It’s not good!” Grankitty snapped. “Get dressed.”

Syn looked down. Her discarded top lay by her feet, and her skirt was bunched up around her waist. She sighed; she’d never realized before how much effort it took to make decisions, how much easier it was when she had no choice but to obey. But Grankitty wasn’t Master; Syn had to decide whether or not to do what she wanted. Still, she might as well do it.

Grankitty paced up and down while Syn straightened her skirt and retied her blouse. When Syn finished, Grankitty made her tell everything that had happened since she ran off.

Afterwards, Grankitty sighed. “I did try to warn you, you stupid girl,” she chided. “Part of the curse is that you become the slave of the first person whose cum you touch—man or woman.“

“Mmmmm...” Syn sighed happily as she remembered the feel of her Master’s cum filling her. “That’s not a curse, it’s wonderful!”

“You only feel that way because it’s making you feel that way,” Grankitty told her. “Once you’re back to normal, you’ll realize how wrong and dangerous it is.“

“Back to normal?” Syn asked, face falling. “It’s not permanent?”

“Oh, it’s permanent—but it only affects Syn, not Cynthia. Once Syn stops existing, the Bond vanishes; even if you turn back into Syn, it’s still gone.”

Syn’s face lit up again. “But I only become Cynthia if I go a whole day without cumming, right? So all I have to do is keep cumming and I can be Master’s forever!“

“Syn, no!” Grankitty snapped. “You can’t stay a slave! Who knows what he could make you do—hurt people, hurt yourself...”

“If that’s what Master wants,” Syn said dreamily. “But he never would, I know he’d never order me to do anything that wasn’t right.”

“No you don’t!” Grankitty insisted. “You feel that, but you have to use your head, Syn!“

Use my head, Syn thought, and a wicked idea struck her. “Grankitty, how long is a while?“

“What?” Grankitty sounded confused, the seemingly random question derailing her tirade.

“How long is a while?” Syn repeated.

“I don’t know, however long you want it to be?” Grankitty answered, still confused.

Syn grinned. “Awesome, then I want it to be this long.” Then she turned and bounded off.

“Dammit, get back here, girl!” Grankitty shouted, but she was gone.

Jennifer unlocked the door to her parents house and bounded in. “Daddy, Amanda, I’m home!” she called.

The last wizard walked in behind her, looking around. It was a nice townhouse, three stories, in a good neighborhood. Well-maintained, expensively but tastefully furnished; despite the unassuming exterior, this was clearly a place where money lived.

It would do nicely.

“Hello, honey!” a man said, stepping around the corner into the foyer. “How are—” he broke off as his gaze fell on the wizard.

“Who are you?” he demanded. He looked like the kind of man who demanded a lot, and usually got it: broad, tall, fit, and square-jawed, graying at the temples, his suit tailored and his tie conservative.

“This is my new boyfriend, Daddy,” said Jennifer happily.

“Boyfriend?” said her father. “No, that’s ridiculous, you have to be nearly twice her age! What kind of a creep are you, she’s only twenty—!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said the wizard. “I’m her master, not her boyfriend. She’s my property to do with as I please.”

Jennifer’s father was momentarily speechless. His face turned white, then purple, and when he opened his mouth, it was clearly with the intent of unleashing fury.

“You are, too, of course,” said the wizard, reaching into his mind to make it so. “That’s why you’re completely happy with my ownership and use of your daughter.”

His mouth snapped shut, and his expression turned conciliatory. “Of course,” he agreed. “Please, come in, sir. My house is your house.”

The wizard smiled. This was a man used to hierarchies of power. A petty little man who happened to sit atop a pyramid and therefore thought himself a king—and like all such men, he stepped on those below him, used and competed with those at his level, and licked the boots of those above him. Authoritarians were the easiest people in the world to control—you didn’t have to change anything about their behavior or beliefs, just who they saw as an authority.

He explored the man’s mind while following him into the living room. A businessman, owner of a construction and contracting company, with many ties in the city’s business community and government. Yes, he would do very well.

As the wizard settled into a quite comfortable easy chair, a woman entered the room. She was tall, blonde, and tanned, maybe ten years older than Jennifer at most. The wizard’s gaze swept over her fine jewelry—including a wedding ring and engagement band with a very large diamond—tight clothes, and heavy (but expertly applied) makeup, and immediately understood her role without even needing to look in her mind.

“Who’s this?” Amanda asked her husband.

“Our new master,” he explained.

The wizard reached into the trophy wife’s mind and made his adjustments. “Oh, okay,” she said.

Jennifer’s father turned to leave the room as a task materialized in his mind, but then stopped. “I’ll need to give a name to my contacts, sir,” he said to the wizard.

“Hmm,” the wizard mused. He leaned back on the sofa as Jennifer and Amanda knelt before him, shedding their clothes. “It’s been some time since I’ve bothered with one. Let’s go with... Bruxo. Yes, that’ll do, Bruxo Feiticeiro.”

“Broosh..?” Jennifer’s father asked, and the wizard sighed.

“Bruce, then,” he said. “Is that better?”

The other man nodded. “I’ll take care of it right away, sir.”

While he walked off into his study to make some phone calls, Amanda and Jennifer pulled down the newly minted Bruce’s pants. They eagerly leaned forward to kiss and lick his member, stepmother and stepdaughter’s lips and tongues tangling as they worked together to please their master, purring delightedly all the while. Bruce placed a hand on each of their heads, letting them feel his control while they pleasured him.

Engrossed as they were, none of the three heard the door opening, or saw the young woman enter the house. She was slender and long-limbed like Jennifer, but shorter; her hair a bit wavier and darker, much longer and pulled into a ponytail that fell halfway down her back; her breasts, bottom, and hips a bit larger; and there was a dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and little clusters of them on her shoulders and upper arms, clearly visible thanks to the blue tank-top she had on.

As Allison walked in, she wondered if Jennifer was home yet. She envied her older sister, getting to go to a college hours away instead of having to live with the woman she had to call “mother,” but thought of as “that gold-digging bitch dad married.” But this was the last summer she’d have to spend here. High school was over as of yesterday, and she was eighteen as of the previous month; she would be free as a bird any day now.

She walked into the living room and stopped dead. Some strange man was sitting on the couch, leaning back with his arms spread out and his eyes closed, and both Jennifer and the person she thought of as that gold-digging bitch dad married were slurping on his cock like it was the most delicious thing they’d ever tasted—and practically making out with each other while they did it.

“What the fuck!?” Allison shouted.

Bruce opened his eyes, looked her up and down, and smiled. “Hello,” he said. “Oh, I was pleased enough to find Jennifer, but I had no idea how great a find she was. This house will do very nicely indeed.”

“Who the hell are you!?” Allison shrieked. “Where’s daddy!? What are you doing to my sister!?”

“I think it’s fairly obvious what she’s doing to me, my dear,” said the wizard. “Let me see the rest of you.”

Glowering at him, Allison pulled her tank-top off and tossed it aside. Then she unbuckled her belt, unbuttoned her jeans, dropped and stepped out of them. She reached behind her to unsnap her cream-colored bra, and only then realized what she was doing. “Wait,” she said. “Why am I..?”

“Because I told you to,” Bruce replied.

“Oh,” said Allison, dropping her bra, revealing her firm, perky young breasts. It was cool in the well-air-conditioned house, and her little pink nipples budded up immediately. She pulled down her purple-striped panties and stood in front of Bruce in nothing but her sneakers and socks.

“Lovely,” he said. “Ladies, if you would?”

Amanda and Jennifer sat back on their haunches while Allison walked forward. She looked confused and a little flushed, her brown eyes fixed on Bruce’s hard, spit-shiny cock.

She bit her lip as she reached the couch. “Why am I..?” she asked. “I shouldn’t, shouldn’t be so horny, but...“

“But you are,” said Bruce, pulling her down into his lap.

She closed her eyes and moaned as he entered her. It was hardly her first time, but it had never felt like this, like being... claimed. “Master!” she gasped, clinging to him and riding his hips. “Yes, please... take me, Master! I’m yours!”

She came at least twice before Bruce finally came in her. Then she laid back on the couch while Amanda licked his cum from her pussy, while Bruce pounded Amanda from behind, Jennifer watching and playing with herself all the while. Then it was Jennifer’s turn to ride his cock, sitting in his lap and making out with Allison while Amanda knelt below them, kissing his balls.

Eventually, all three women lay in a tangled, exhausted, euphoric heap on the couch, cum in their mouths, their pussies, their hair. Bruce stood over them, and tucked his cock neatly back into his pants, then straightened his clothes.

“Have you completed your task?” Bruce didn’t turn around, but he knew Jennifer’s father was there. The man probably had a name, but Bruce didn’t care.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I had to pull some strings, but your appointment with the mayor is tomorrow afternoon.”

“Excellent,” Bruce replied. “Now, I’ll need you to procure some other items for me...”

Syn laughed joyously as she bounded from rooftop to rooftop across the city. Her body felt incredible, so strong, so fast, so full of boundless energy. She could easily jump several stories straight up, or from one rooftop to another on the far side of a four-lane street, run faster than she’d ever run before, and all without feeling the least bit tired.

She was horny, of course, but that would be solved soon enough. She could feel her master, like an invisible thread pulling on her clit, a gentle, teasing touch that drew her toward him across the city. She landed on the roof of a high-rise apartment building, and knew he was nearby. She easily leaped down terraces of balconies, and as she landed on one on the sixth floor, she knew this was the place.

Through the open curtains on the glass sliding door that led to the balcony, Syn could see into a small studio apartment. Her master sat on a couch with someone else, a pretty black woman a few years older than Syn. They were holding each other and talking quietly; they didn’t seem to have noticed Syn.

The sliding door wasn’t locked. Syn slid it open and walked in.

Both her master and the strange woman jumped to their feet and turned to face her. “Lawrence, who the fuck is this?” the woman asked.

Syn’s master groaned. “Morgan, this is, um—well, I don’t remember her name, but this girl, um, helped me. In the accident.”

“The accident?” Morgan said skeptically. “What’s she doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Lawrence answered. “I thought I told you to leave me alone?”

Syn smiled. “You ordered me to stay there a while, Master, and I did! Then after a while, I came here to see you.”

“Master?” Morgan arced an eyebrow. “Lawrence, do you care to explain why some blonde white girl in a slutty schoolgirl costume is calling you ‘master’?”

Lawrence sputtered. “Okay, I know it sounds bad, but listen, I would never—”

“The hell you wouldn’t!” Morgan snapped. “All this time acting like you were different, but you’re just like every other man, thinking with his dick! Tell me the truth—you fucked her?”

Lawrence blushed. “Well—” he started.

“Oh, fuck you,” said Morgan. She pulled a ring off her finger and threw it at him. “I don’t want to hear any excuses or lies, it’s written all over your face, you son of a bitch.” She grabbed a maroon leather jacket off the back of the couch and stormed to the door.

“Morgan—” Lawrence started.

“Shut up!” she snapped. “If I hear one more word out of you, see either of you ever again, I will fucking murder you both, you got that? This is it, Lawrence. Good-fucking-bye. He’s all yours, bitch.” She slammed the door behind her.

“Um,” said Syn, cringing back as Lawrence rounded on her. “Sorry, Master?”

“What have you done!?” Lawrence shouted at her. “Do you have any idea, any idea, how hard it was to prove to Morgan she could trust me? To get her agree to any kind of commitment? Do you realize what you’ve destroyed!?“

Syn’s big blue eyes filled with tears as she fell to her knees. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t realize, didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t think, you stupid, crazy—you’ve ruined my life, do you realize that!”

Syn prostrated herself on the floor, sobbing. “I’m so, so sorry, Master!” she cried. “This is all so new to me, and I just thought—I just had to be near you, and...”

Lawrence looked down at her and sighed. “Goddammit.” She’s just a kid, he thought. A confused, sick kid. I’ve dealt with enough of those. “Okay,” he said, swallowing back his anger. “Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you or anything.“

Syn continued sobbing. “Of course you won’t, Master! But I’ve hurt you! That’s unforgivable!”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said. “Listen, uh... what’s your name again?”

“Syn,” said Syn.

“Okay, um, Syn. Do you have anywhere you can go to? A home, or..?”

Syn hiccupped, smiled up at him. Combined with her tear-stained face, the effect was heartbreakingly adorable. “Not really, Master. I have a home, but I can’t go there now.” Not like this, she thought. They wouldn’t recognize me. And anyway, I want to stay with you, Master...

Of course she’s a runaway, Lawrence thought with a sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Why don’t you, uh...” He looked around his tiny apartment. “You can stay on the couch for now, I guess, and we’ll figure out what to do in the morning, okay?“

Syn smiled happily, glad to be receiving an order. “Yes, Master!”

She sat immediately on the couch, smiling that dazzling smile of hers, and Lawrence had to look away. He tried looking down, but that meant cleavage, and further down than that smooth, bare, toned tummy, and further down than that, two tantalizing strips of thigh between too-short skirt and thigh-high-sock-clad, perfect legs...

Lawrence settled for coughing and looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Um... okay, you just stay there, I need to think.”

He walked around a row of bookshelves that acted as a makeshift dividing wall—and meant he couldn’t see the worryingly sexy, dangerously, temptingly submissive girl on his couch.

Syn was thinking, too. She’d screwed up, badly, and her master was clearly upset—but with his fiancee out of the picture, there also wasn’t any reason for him not to use her. The question was how to get him to realize that without upsetting him again—but once she did, she was sure he’d keep her and use her forever.

Syn squirmed happily in her seat, imagining things her master might make her do. She’d thought the powers were great, but this? This was going to be the best part.