The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lawrence sighed as he was awoken by pounding on his door. He had the night shift at the hospital the night before, and he was trying to catch up on sleep, but someone clearly didn’t want that to happen.

“All right, all right, I’m coming!” he called and slouched his way around to the front door. He peeked through the eyehole and was startled to see Morgan and Cynthia, both looking rather the worse for wear and trying to prop each other up.

Hastily he took off the chain and opened the door for them. Morgan pushed past him without greeting and closed the door with her foot.

“What’s going on?” asked Lawrence. “I never thought I’d see you again! Where—how—?”

“Hush,” said Morgan. She and Cynthia collapsed onto the couch. “I can’t stay. Meghan doesn’t know anything but your first name, but it won’t take her long to dig you up with the police helping her.”

“Police?” Lawrence gasped. “Morgan, what have you done? What Meghan are you talking about, Meghan Bailey?”

Morgan closed her eyes. “I don’t even know,” she said. “This girl just saved my life from... something I can barely describe, the cops are after me—I’ve stumbled onto something big, Lawrence, and there’s nobody else I can turn to.”

“It’ll be okay,” replied Lawrence, sitting next to her, on the opposite side from Cynthia. He spared a quick glance to the younger girl; she was lolling against Morgan, seeming to be barely conscious. “Is she hurt?” he asked. “Are you hurt? We can go to the—”

“No hospital!” Morgan barked. “Too exposed, too public, too much record keeping. It’d lead him right to us. Fuck... Meghan doesn’t know we broke up.”

“What?” Lawrence asked. “Morgan, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Morgan sighed. “All right, I’ll explain what I can—and then you are going to tell me everything you know about this girl! ...She is the girl you were with, isn’t she?“

Lawrence nodded.

“Okay,” said Morgan, and began to tell the story.

Afterward, Lawrence let out a slow breath. “Phew,” he said. “That’s a lot.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?” said Morgan. “You think I’m crazy.”

Lawrence shook his head, but before he could answer, Cynthia suddenly jerked away and groped at her blouse. She touched the lump shape of the stuffed animal inside, and relaxed, but then she saw Morgan and Lawrence and jumped to her feet. “What—” she began. Then she looked down and groaned.

“It’s too much,” she said, nearly in tears. “I can’t... can’t...” She closed her eyes tightly and flared with light. As Lawrence and Morgan watched, open-mouthed, she began to grow taller, her tousled hair rearranging itself into perfect golden waves, her face shifting subtly from “cute young girl” to “perfect doll,” her tummy tightening, tits and ass swelling, while her clothing shrank into a pornographic parody of her school uniform.

She let out a sigh, and then smiled brightly at the others. “Hello again!” she chirruped.

“And that,” said Lawrence, “is why I don’t think you’re crazy. Or if you are, I am too.”

“...Hrmph,” said Morgan. “Okay. Question is, now what? Meghan’s compromised. She only knows your first name, not what you look like or your address, but she knows your job. There can’t be that many ER nurses named Lawrence, even in a city this size, and there’s enough cops to check the addresses of every one. It’s only a matter of time until they get here—which means we have to be gone before they are.“

“For all we know, they could already be circling the building, on their way up,” moaned Lawrence, then slumped on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

“They could,” said Morgan. “So move. Leave your cell phone, your credit cards, your ID, anything that could be used to track you. Just cash and clothing—not your scrubs! Then... we try to find a way to slip out.“

“I have a way,” said Syn. “Let me help you.”

“Wait,” said Lawrence, what are you—”

But he was too late. Syn grabbed both of them around the waist, then jumped out the window, carrying them effortlessly.

“—plaaannnnniinnnnnnggggg..!”

Janelle hung up her phone and sighed. “That was Lt. Rosen, Master,” she said. “They’ve checked the known address and workplace of every nurse named Lawrence in the city. All but three have been questioned, and none of those know the woman we’re looking for.”

“Hrm,” said Feiticeiro. “Summon Meghan, tell her I wish to see her immediately.”

Janelle quailed slightly as she picked up the phone. Master’s displeasure hurt, and even directed at someone else, it made her uneasy. Nervously, she messaged her secretary to give the reporter a call.

While they waited, Feiticeiro pulled her into his lap. He looked even smaller in the high-backed leather chair that had until recently been Janelle’s own, but he still radiated power and presence as he told her what her new orders would be once Meghan arrived. Then he began to stroke her, tease her, strip her, while she squirmed eagerly against him.

“Master...” she breathed, and then he took her beyond words. The pleasure and desire his touch gave her rose and rose, turning her from the coiffed and professional Mayor Lumley into the gasping, giggling, naked, helpless Janelle.

Meghan was likewise uneasy when she arrived at the Mayor’s office. She needed so badly to please him, to feel the pleasure that bringing him brought, but she knew she had failed, that Morgan had escaped her and, mostly likely, the police as well, because Meghan didn’t have enough information on where she might be.

The smirk the Mayor’s little blonde tart of a secretary gave her as she let her into the Mayor’s office told her everything she needed to know, and her heart sank as she walked in to see the Mayor lying on her desk, crying out with every thrust as Meghan’s Master fucked her.

“Ah, Meghan,” he said pleasantly, holding the Mayor’s legs over his shoulders as he pounded into her.

“I’m so sorry, Master!” she moaned, nearly in tears. “Please, I, I don’t know anything else that can help find Morgan, but—”

“Enough,” he said. “You failed. Others will continue the task.”

Meghan shrank. “Please no,” she said. “Please, please, I can’t fail you, Master, I need to—need to be a good girl for you, please, please give me another chance!” She fell to her knees. “Please!”

“Hmm,” he said. “Very well. One last chance. There is another person I seek. I do not know her name or her appearance, but I know that she is eighteen years old, that she has been disappearing from her life for days at a time, if not entirely, and that she was involved in all of the recent... gas explosions.“

“I will find her, Master!” gasped Meghan. “I swear to you, I will!”

“I find that unlikely, given that I have found it a challenge. But it is possible that you will find a lead of some sort. Do so, and I will allow you to serve as Ja... nelle... does.” He grunted out the last words as he came, pumping her a few final times as she moaned in pleasure.

He withdrew and turned to face Meghan. He walked slowly toward her, naked, his cock still half-erect and dripping with his and the Mayor’s mingled cum. Meghan couldn’t take her eyes off it; her mouth watered at the sight. “Please,” she moaned. “Please Master, let me... let me serve you...”

“You can,” he said, and her heart leapt, only to come crashing back down at his next words, “by finding a lead to this girl. Now begone.”

Tears in her eyes, Meghan fled. What is wrong with me? she thought. I’m so pathetic... I have to prove to Master I can do this! And she knew just where to start.

“We need a place to lay low,” said Morgan. “This Feiticeiro guy has government connections at every level, even fleeing the city might not be enough.”

“What is he?” Lawrence asked. “Mafia? CIA?“

“No idea,” said Morgan. “But I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he and his weird powers showed up at the same time as these... well, monsters.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied Syn. “Or you.”

“Well I don’t know him!” Syn replied. She pulled Grankitty out of her cleavage. “Do you know anything?”

“The name is unfamiliar,” said the stuffed cat. “And I’ve never heard of a man with any kind of special powers. Just the cursed girl and the Beasts.”

“Did... did that stuffed animal just talk?” asked Morgan.

“Yes,” said Lawrence. “Listen, I might know a place where we can hide out for a while. At least... someone else did once, and as far as I know nothing’s changed?”

“Worth trying,” said Grankitty. “Tell us where, Syn can carry us quickly, right?”

“No problem,” said Syn.

“Great,” said Lawrence. “I’ll explain on the way to the university.”

“No, but seriously,” said Morgan. “Did that stuffed animal just talk?“

In college, Lawrence explained, there’d been another student in a couple of his classes. A scholarship kid, he’d been able to scrape together enough to cover the remainder of his tuition, books, and a meal plan, but not enough for a room, whether from the school or renting in a building nearby.

So he’d found a place on campus where he could throw a blanket on the floor, somewhere checked infrequently enough, and on a predictable enough schedule, that he was sure not to be caught. He’d lived there for a full four years, eating in the school cafeteria, sneaking out imperishables and stashing them to get him through the summer, showering in the school gym.

“He graduated cum laude,” said Lawrence. “Lost touch after that, I hope he did as well as he deserved.” He led them behind the school’s physical plant, to a blank door with a chain hung across it—but no lock. He just shifted the chain aside and opened the door, revealing a dark space lined with pipes. “Looks the same as always,” said Lawrence as the others followed him in.

Syn’s nose twitched. She could smell something familiar, something very faint. But she followed patiently while Lawrence led the little group deeper into the tangle of pipes, until it suddenly opened up into a square space about ten feet across. An old, stained mattress lay on the floor, and graffiti covered the walls; otherwise, it was deserted.

“They only come back here twice a year,” said Lawrence. “State-mandated water quality checks. Otherwise, this place is officially locked off and empty.”

Morgan looked pointedly at the mattress. “Seems like somebody’s been using it, unless your friend left that here years ago.”

“It... could be that old,” Lawrence hazarded. “But... point taken. Still, do you have any better ideas?”

Syn squatted and peered at the mattress. That faint smell was very slightly stronger here... whatever it was, it was very old, and very faint, but it was here. So familiar, she thought. But what is it..? She reached out and touched one of the stains, tuning out Lawrence and Morgan’s bickering.

A familiar thrill ran up her arm. She stood and, slowly, began to turn in a circle.

“Syn?” asked Grankitty. “Something wrong, child?”

“That way,” she said quietly to her herself, and stopped turning. Then, a little louder, “I have to go.”

“What?” asked Morgan. “What are you—where are you going?”

“I have to find Master,” said Syn, and raced back the way they’d come.

Riding in her top, Grankitty groaned. “That was cum, wasn’t it, Syn?”

But Syn ignored her. Her whole body was on fire with need, a fire she’d missed so much. The light that had filled her when she fought was good, yes, but it was nothing compared to this, the yawning, delicious emptiness that was having a Master who wasn’t present. And that, in turn, was nothing compared to actually being with her Master!

She drew up to a house just off campus, a large one with a big banner hanging from the upper windows, blue with Greek letters picked out in silver. Master was here. She could feel it, the pull of him, the shining inescapable aura of his presence.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. A blonde, broad-shouldered boy of about 20 in jeans and a t-shirt answered it, but she pushed past him into the living room. A half-dozen boys stared at her. They varied slightly in height, hair color, and physical fitness, but they all dressed similarly, and had a similar air of unearned confidence and entitlement.

Except one. One who looked and acted like all the others, but in Syn’s eyes shone with a golden light. He was the one, there could be no question of it. So, as the other boys hooted and hollered, she ignored them and fell to her knees. “Master,” she greeted him, and was complete.