The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A mixtape?

A fucking mixtape?

I wasn’t exactly pleased to hear it. I’m a succubus, a demon of lust and seduction, born of heavenly love and reforged in the fires of Hell to become a creature of pure sin and temptation. I have been summoned by princes and emperors, I’ve tempted archbishops and I once even approached a Saint of God on his deathbed, offering him pleasure beyond compare if he but renounced his faith.

I nearly won, too.

For thousands of years, I’ve, quite literally, bedeviled humanity, stalked its path, probed its weaknesses, brought low the chaste and pious and exalted the lecherous and lustful until they were consumed by their own sin and handed right back to me on a silver platter. I’m connected to every wicked thought, every violation of the marriage oath, every single act of sexual commodification and could gift any who came to me with a silver tongue for seduction or the secret arts that could turn even the plainest of supplicants into the pinnacle of desire… and, for those even more desperate, I knew even blacker arts that could make a man forget his wife, a maiden forget her virtue, give the object of one’s desires eyes for them and them alone.

Not to mention, I’m a pretty hot fuck myself. I’ve been an almond-eyed houri, an impossibly perfect geisha, an exotic odalisque, think of what a man would want in a woman: face, tits, ass, legs, toes—if he’s into armpits, I’ll have pits that’ll make him weak in the knees—whatever it is he’s into, I’m perfect at it. I’m lust itself, all wrapped up in the name Andalia. In my current incarnation, I’m a mix of all this warlock’s fantasies, a blend of movie stars and pornography, probably a bit of an old childhood crush, and, most likely, some video games and cartoon characters. I don’t mind, I take any form I need and inhabit it to make it the most sultry creature imaginable, one with pale skin, red hair, and massive tits squeezed into tight black leather. And I have a tail and little bat wings, I always like the little bat wings. But I’m a walking wet dream with all of humanity’s lust churning in my essence and a mind full of the most devious carnal knowledge.

And I’ve been summoned to give feedback on a mixtape.

“I know it’s… a little embarrassing,” mumbled the warlock, barely out of his teenage years and with the scraggly awkwardness of that time still clinging to him. Not the worst to summon me, I’ve known some utter trolls among my list of former Masters, but he’s definitely the sort of manling who would feel forced to turn to demons in order to get laid. It’s the patheticness that clings to him, the desperation. He could, if he tried, be attractive—his beard’s too wispy and his physique far too puny to sell masculine, but some better knowledge of grooming and some time in the gym could change that. Or, judging from his messy hair and the eclectic interests decorating the walls of his dorm, not to mention, the way I look now, he could go for another look, geek chic, maybe the sensitive artiste, the free spirit… he’s got paths that don’t risk his eternal soul, but he’d have to work for them, and I well know this type. Self-pity, ego, and an all-consuming fear of rejection meant that he turned to ancient grimoires before he spent even ten minutes on self-improvement.

Usually, however, that means an easy deal for me. Sin, contrary to common belief, is its own punishment, the accumulated weakness of sloth, lust, and avarice slowly creates men who can no longer escape their own miserable reality, even in a golden palace. No amount of dancing girls, easy sex, and reciprocated crushes can fix what’s broken inside, and as their despair grows, so does my power over them until the soul is mine to feast on.

But I don’t get jack shit when I’m summoned to give feedback on a fucking mixtape!

“I am going to say this as politely as I can,” I tell him through gritted teeth, “But do you not have any friends you could reach out to for this?”

The warlock just shakes his head, then tries to salvage the situation with a, “I—I mean, I have friends, it’s just that… none of them would really know, like, what a girl’s looking for, you know? And not… not Kaitlyn. She’s just so… she’s not like any other girl, she’s just… I don’t even know how to describe her…”

Oh! Well! In that case! That was something I’ve never heard before! He’s in love with a girl who’s not like any other girl he knows, someone who’s just so special and wonderful that he doesn’t even know how to describe her! That’s so different from everyone else!

…I could have bitten his head right off if I wasn’t in a summoning circle, but in all honesty, it wasn’t really the circle that was protecting him right now. I’m a professional, and even if I wanted to turn my hands into rending claws to better tear him apart, it was unbecoming of a succubus to give in to her temper. We’re patient hunters, we have to be: demons don’t do all that much to corrupt mortals, it’s humans who do most all of the work for us. It’s… just agitating to be given this little to work with. The kind of person who summons a demon usually has a bit more drive, considering what they’re risking.

“If you desire her,” I tell him firmly, “there are many things a demon can do to aid you… but if you just want reassurance in asking her out, you’re wasting your time. If you wish for me to bewitch her into your obedient—”

“No, you don’t understand!” he interrupts, “It’s so much—it’s more than looks! She’s—she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met! She does cosplay and she’s super into nerdy stuff and she just… she makes everything better just by being there. I can talk to her about video games and Renaissance poetry and buffalo wings and… no one’s like her. No one. And I just… I just want to do this right…”

His words would have been the usual pathetic I expect from lovelorn men, but there’s another layer to this that’s keeping me from following this like I normally do.

“Wait…” I ask him, raising an eyebrow in confusion, “Do you actually… you actually know this girl? Kaitlyn? You… talk to her and she knows who you are?”

“...we’re in the same D&D game,” he says, “She has a half-elven Paladin, Liliwen, and she goes all in, she draws pictures of what she looks like, she does a voice for her, and she…” he swallows, nervously, as though I care, “When Dave ran a—Dave’s our DM, but he ran a module that had us go through a tiefling village, and she invented this entire backstory, completely off the cuff that meant she had a lot of apprehension with being associated with other outcasts, but she ultimately came to realize that just trying to appease the dominant…”

Hell was hell, but I’m already rethinking if I really want to spend all that much time here in the mortal realm if it means listening to this. Again, I’ve dealt with human egos and men who liked to talk, talk, talk, but usually, there was more to work with in that. Not just boredom as he droned on and on about this girl’s roleplaying. I had half an inkling to suggest a glamour that could make her look like her … whatever he said she was, let them pretend to be their fictional character and fulfill their nerdy little fantasies, but no, I could already tell it was a dead end. This was just a boy with a crush who was too self-conscious about it to be normal and so he’d summoned me to give him the reassurance he needed to do the thing he already wanted to do.

Taking his soul was starting to seem like the sort of thing I’d regret, so if all he wanted was a kick in the pants, fine, I can give it to him. Cutting him off as he kept going on and on about a magic broadsword, I tell him, “You are friends. With shared interests. And a history of personal intimacy. Just give her the mixtape and—”

“Please!” he begs, “Just… listen to it. I just need you to tell me it’ll work!”

“It’ll work?”

“That she’ll like it,” he mumbles, “And—and you have to. I summoned you to aid me in my courtship of Kaitlyn, so… this is how you do that.”

Well, he’s got me there.

“Alright,” I say, “Give me the mixtape, I’ll tell you what I think.”

He rolls up a chair to my summoning circle, a surprisingly courteous gesture, and I take my seat as he grabs a chunky pair of headphones to pass to me. I give him a look and he blushes. “I’m… kind of an audiophile?” he explains and I immediately regret it—I just put the headphones on and tell him to hit play on his computer.

“Taylor Swift?” I ask immediately as the music starts playing, not even bothering to hide my disgust.

“She loves Taylor Swift,” he mumbles back.

“Loves loves, or just happens to enjoy the most popular living singer and is going to see this as the most basic move imaginable?”

“She’s a Swiftie,” he says meekly.

I sigh, listening to the song as I try to figure out what my play is here. There probably isn’t one, any attempt to make this more interesting probably going to embarrass me more than anything, so the path of least resistance is to just fulfill the summons: hear out his little playlist, give my honest opinion, and leave. So that’s what I’ll do.

“Is she twenty-two?” I ask.

“Huh?” he replies.

I roll my eyes. “This song,” I tell him, “Taylor Swift is singing about feeling like she’s twenty-two, is that when you met, does it have any special significance or meaning that she’ll immediately realize because this is the first song on the playlist and if it doesn’t have some sort of hook that speaks to her, she probably won’t listen to the rest of the playlist.”

“Oh…” he says, sounding a lot like he’d literally never thought of the most basic elements of trying to communicate with another person, “I just… she likes Taylor Swift and I’m pretty sure I heard her listening to this song… she’s a theater minor, she builds and paints backgrounds for the shows, so when I volunteer, there’s usually music playing and I’m pretty sure I heard this song there?”

It takes an effort to keep from rolling my eyes. I’ve been summoned by many fools and imbeciles, men of supreme arrogance who failed to realize their own limitations, but I don’t think I’ve ever been summoned by a warlock this oblivious. He had a perfect in, he had multiple means of talking to this girl, but he was bungling it in the most bizarre way, making a mixtape he didn’t remotely understand and summoning a literal demon of hell to try and cover not understanding mixtapes.

Welp, I knew he was an idiot. I just had to slog it out for a few more tracks and do a very rare good deed when I tell him he’s doing this all wrong.

There’s an awkwardness, though, when I only really have one note for him. It means I’m just sitting in the middle of a dorm room, listening to music while a warlock watches me. He’s too self-conscious to properly ogle, too timid to make a move, and it makes these minutes just feel that much longer. The first song finishes, the second’s no better, but…

“What’s wrong with the audio?” I ask.

“The audio?” he asks back, “Oh! You mean the post-processing? I did an effect in Audacity to make it sound more like a mixtape. I mean, y’know, the—the tape part of the mixtape. Making it, like, not so clean like modern audio but more, I dunno, crunchy? I think that’s the term… is it too much?”

“It’s a little distracting,” I grumble, hearing an annoying clicking sound. It’s subtle, but it’s noticeable, and worse, I honestly can’t tell if it’s really what a cassette mixtape ought to sound like. A hardship of being around so long was that a lot of technological changes were just there in a blink, and I only set foot on Earth twice in the 80s and one time in the 90s, and all three were in the Middle East to men of fairly limited means since the Grimoire that contained the secret means of summoning me had passed from a forgotten library in Egypt then wound up in Syria… and now was in America somehow. I hadn’t exactly gotten many chances to familiarize myself with what a Walkman really sounded like. Yes, I have the ineffable demonic knowledge that came from every sin committed by a mortal, gives me enough pop culture awareness to understand what’s in and what’s out, but the finer points of audio mastering don’t really fall under that purview.

“We, uh, we took a Media Studies class together,” he says, trying to justify himself, “and she did her final paper on, uh, this Marshall McLuhan guy, so I thought she might…”

And there was the droning again, his voice just too boring for me to even really pretend to listen to. I knew enough pop culture to place that none of these songs were from the Walkman era, but it was just as likely an attempt at irony… the kind of self-protection that just wasn’t attractive, but perhaps this Kaitlyn would find it amusing enough. For the time he put into this little project more than anything, and to his credit, he actually made her something. A bad and awkward something was still something, and with their history together, it genuinely might come off as charming.

Maybe it’s the opening, going too basic, too obvious, that might be my main advice if he really wants to stick with the mixtape play. Two songs in, it’s starting to hit its stride, and maybe with a new order, he’ll be able to get her to keep listening as long as I am, giving her a chance to appreciate the better qualities of the gesture. But that might work—some more time, some more thought, and Kaitlyn might actually be touched by it.

I glance at the warlock, his eyes immediately darting away as soon as I look at him and I sigh. He’s frustrating for sure, uniquely bad at being a warlock in so many ways. He summons a sex demon and can’t bring himself to ogle her, much less feel her up. I’m certainly used to it! I’m a sex demon! He’s completely allowed to do, literally, anything he wants to me, and over the course of human civilization, I’ve done just shy of everything humans can imagine doing to a beautiful woman. I’d even be happy to suggest a few things he could do to me, but… the mixtape comes first. Two tracks down, and onto the third.

Actually… listening more, I can appreciate some of the cleverness in this. It’s rough, there’s no denying it, but I have to give my warlock credit where credit is due: he didn’t just slap this together. Katy Perry isn’t a more inspired choice by any measure, but there’s something amusing about someone only just out of his teenage years sending something to a girl the same age about a “Teenage Dream.” And all these songs so far are more than a decade out of date which… well, I’m nor really getting it, not cognitively, but I’m certainly feeling it! Especially with that overlaying sound, it’s all so… retro and not retro at the same time? It’s smart, even if I can’t figure out what’s smart about it.

Like, I’m kind of starting to wonder if he just googled for a playlist of popular love songs and just put them all together and didn’t realize he grabbed something someone made ten years ago. But it just… it works, and I can’t really contest that when I’m getting into my groove and starting to bob along to the music. I’ve stopped watching my warlock so I don’t make him uncomfortable, but I sure hope he’s watching me as I move my body from side to side, giving my boobs a sexy jiggle… he’s definitely a boob man, I wouldn’t have tits this big if my warlock wasn’t a major boob man!

By the time I’m on track four, though, I’m starting to wonder about Kaitlyn. What’s her deal that’s got his interest? C’mon, this guy has talent, he knows what he’s doing with music for sure, and let’s be honest here: he’s kind of cute! Got a sexy geeky thing going on, a fixer-upper that told girls they could take care of him. A lot of girls were into that, guys they could cook and clean for, guys who needed someone devoted. That was something that could definitely be sexy! So why hadn’t she made her move? Why was I here when my warlock clearly had this in hand?

I bite my lip, just really getting into the music, Meghan Trainor is just such the right choice, especially with those scratches in the audio. This is seriously a killer mixtape, and I just can’t wait to hear what’s coming next! I’m definitely going to listen to the whole playlist, and if anything interrupts me, definitely going right back to where I left off and making sure I hear the whole thing. Might even listen to it a few more times, could easily imagine making this part of my daily routine… if I wasn’t going back to Hell and all once I was done.

But what’s the deal with Kaitlyn? She had to be someone super hot, for sure. Probably had really big tits, and… my warlock mentioned she did cosplay. Oh, cosplay was hot, super hot, especially for girls with big tits. I could definitely do cosplay with big tits like this, could do all sorts of sexy video game ladies, just like Kaitlyn. Two hot ladies in cosplay together would be twice as hot… but Kaitlyn was probably someone too stuck up to do that. That’s why she needed the mixtape: it was so good at loosening me up, it’d probably make her super hot too! Some girls didn’t understand how good they had it until it smacked them in the face!

But right now, the headphones are all mine and so I get to enjoy the music and Kaitlyn gets nothing! I bet I’m hotter than her anyways, but… men like it when girls get along. Men also like it when girls get competitive. I bet I could get really competitive with Kaitlyn, both of us in cosplay, our big titties on display, asking who’s hotter…

The next song comes on and I moan in pleasure. These songs are just… pure aural seduction and I would know! I’m a succubus, and I know everything about sex. Like how hot I get when I think about my warlock. His eyes are on me. I know they’re on me. I’m getting so hot from his mixtape and he’s getting hot from my big titties and a succubus like me can see all the ways we can make this work. I arch my back to better show them off, but what gets me really hot is knowing that I’m his type. He, technically, made this body, just like he made the mixtape, and I’m just as hot as the music pounding in my ears, that sexy crackle running over my exposed skin as I show him just how hot he’s making me. But I can make this so much hotter…

“If you want,” I purr seductively, taking inspiration from the music thrumming in my core, “you don’t just have to sit and watch me enjoy your mixtape. These,” I gesture to my breasts, “are all for you, Master…”

He’s nervous, which is adorable, but he’s got no reason to be. If he’s this good with making a mixtape, I have no doubt his fingers are going to be incredible at feeling me up. I just… know that he’s going to be the most gifted lover I’ve ever met, any inadequacies I perceive are really just my fault, and when I’ve had lovers longer than humans have had agriculture, well, that tells me he’s definitely the best lover I could ever imagine. Usually I feel a little twinge of resentment when I call a warlock “Master,” but this time, he is definitely my Master when he’s made me this hot and sexy, making my pussy all gushy as I wait for him to—

“Ohhhhh, yes! Yes, right there, your hands feel so good on my titties!”

They really do! I’m used to lying to warlocks, physical pleasure being an absurdity for a being whose physical body is shaped to be susceptible to his charms. In every form I take, my pussy is shaped to be perfect for his dick, small, long, thick, crooked, whatever, I’m shaped to be his dream girl.

But Master has, like, the actual perfect dick! I just… I know it’s the perfect dick, I am absolutely certain it’s the perfect dick at the core of my being and ohhh I want it so badly!

“Holy shit…” he murmurs, making me super proud of how sexy he made me! “This… this worked.”

“The mixtape’s sooooooo good,” I moan, but it’s hard to focus on his music when his hands are making me so hot and hard to focus on his hands when his music is making me so hot!

Then my boobies pop out of my top and I just ohhhhhhhhh…

I… I think I came.

I think I came. Actually came. No succubus magic flowing through a corporeal form orgasm, my actual incorporeal demonic form just came. From being felt up. By Master’s perfect hands.

I’m drooling on myself like a total slut as he feels me up, squeezing my titties and tugging at my nipples, giving me all these little mini-orgasms because his touch always made me super horny. It was just like his mixtape—you would think this was just completely random movements from a horny adolescent, but it was really so much more! Everything made sense, maybe not to me, but I knew each finger was perfectly placed exactly where it needed to be to make me hornier than I’d ever been before!

Song after song, just so incredibly well thought out that they just work. It’s kind of crazy, no one else would see the genius of this exact order, nobody but my Master could take something that would normally be so generic, but with his keen eye, it’s just the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard. I honestly don’t even know if I can call myself a sex demon when Master just… gets it. He gets sex so much better than I do that I am realizing that everything that seemed like it wasn’t the right thing to say, do, wear, look like, or be was just because I was too dumb to get it! But now I am getting it, now I am totally getting it, and it all makes so much sex!

I mean sense, but no, it’s all so much sex! I am hearing sex, I am getting groped by sex, my Master is sex and I am only just starting to understand that!

I can’t believe he summoned me to give him notes—the only thing I can even imagine telling him is that Kaitlyn would have to be a really stupid bitch if she didn’t realize how lucky she was to inspire this work of art! Oh, and that I want to fuck him so bad. I am definitely going to tell him I want to fuck him so bad because the way his hands were on my boobs told me that his dick would be even better. And that he had the most amazing cock in the world. I already know that, but I also knew it was really important to never forget that fact that it is absolutely the perfect cock and anything that seemed otherwise was just like the mixtape: my own fault for not getting it.

But the music fades as I realize that the best mixtape ever made is finally over. I can still hear the little scratchy bits that I’m starting to realize are just completely brilliant, but I know the music’s over until the next time I listen to it. Oh, there’s definitely a next time coming, many, many next times, but right now, I can’t think of anything more important than taking my headphones off and telling Master what I think of his glorious mixtape!

“It’s perfect!” I gush, “Kaitlyn’s going to want to listen to this, like, a million times! I want to listen to it a million times! I—I am—”

I suddenly feel woozy on the chair as I say something I’m not really hearing, my own words are sounding tinny and distant like I’m underwater, but Master asks a question and I answer it and then sound comes back so… everything’s okay and I don’t have to think about that.

“..full control,” I say, blinking as I try to remember what I just said… I can be such a ditz for a succubus sometimes, it’s so embarrassing!

“That’s good,” Master says with a nod, and I am just so thrilled that he’s happy with me! “But I have another question…”

“Anything!” I gasp, cause sharing knowledge with Master makes me so turned on!

“If I break the seal,” he asks, “you won’t… hurt me in any way? There’s no way you’ll end up eating my soul or tainting me or any other way you might condemn me to Hell?”

I giggle, he’s such a sweetie to ask! “Oh Master, you know I’d never hurt you!” I proudly tell him, “I can’t—oh boy, I can’t even think about it, I keep trying, but like, I just know I can never hurt my Master in any way and I never want to and I never will! Never, never, never!”

“That’s good—”

“But like, succubus mostly don’t hurt men directly, we just, like let men give in to all their temptations until they discover they don’t actually understand what they really want and then plunge into self-destruction. But you’re so much smarter, better, and more deserving than anyone so I just know that Master fucking me can only be for the best! My Master is the most perfect man alive!”

He pauses, and I suddenly get really really scared I said too much and Master wasn’t going to fuck me! But I had to be honest, I could never lie to my Master or deceive him in any way, it was just unthinkable!

But then he sighs, shakes his head, and murmurs, “...it’s worth the risk.”

Yippee!

He scratches the marks on the floor and I am on him! I kiss him so hard he cums in his pants and that makes me just have a screaming orgasm! I just—I just know that making him cum makes me cum ten times as hard and it’s such a good cum I think I’m going to pass out, but I can’t! Cause Master hasn’t even got to fuck my pussy like he deserves!

It takes a lot of magic to keep him conscious after that kiss. I’m used to keeping men going, it’s a common concern of warlocks, but I’m usually dealing with like, old men who can’t get it up, not “oh no, I’ve completely drained his nuts before I could get any of that yummy cum for myself!” and my magic isn’t that good at that part.

But I can get his dick up and keep it up! My boobies are really good at that, plus I’ve got magic, but thinking about my boobies gets me hot too. Especially as I knock him down on the bed and smother him in my big titties, rubbing and grinding my body on him as I moan, my wings fluttering and my tail swishing from side to side as I’ve just got so much sexual heat in my body as I press my sexy, perfectly crafted body into the man who made me this sexy!

His clothes are gone. I don’t remember how that happened, but I’m on top of him and his dick—the best dick in the whole world, just the exact right size and length, the kind of dick that some dumb bitch might think was just ordinary but anyone with sense would immediately know that it’s the best dick they’ll ever have—was ready for another go. I’m on top of him, he’s still reeling from cumming so hard from my kiss—oh that makes me so hot!—and so I can just drop down and feel him inside me with just one thrust—

He is the most amazing lover to have ever lived.

It’s a thought I come to as I wake up, having immediately blacked out when Master came in my pussy. He passed out too, and I’m just so amazed that a man who came immediately as soon as he entered my supercharged succubus pussy could be so good at sex, but that’s just how good Master is. He made a one pump climax the best sex of my immortal life, and literally no man can ever compare to that. Honestly, I should have realized that a man cumming instantly is just a better way to have sex—whenever there’s anything about Master that doesn’t line up with expectations, I should obviously know I’m at fault.

I’m looking at him, passed out on his bed, looking so scrumptious… especially his cock. I always want his cock so badly. I want to fuck him again, but I know that he’s really only barely holding on, dehydration alone, not to mention the mental side effects, and as much as I really want his cock—I always want his cock so badly—I never ever ever want to hurt Master. So I just sit and wait, licking my lips and watching over him as my magic slowly replenishes him. I’m going to fuck him so hard when he’s awake, especially now that I know that the best way to have sex with a man is to make him cum immediately. So much more efficient and it makes me so hot to know that he finds me that sexy. I bet Kaitlyn doesn’t get him off that easily!

Though I shouldn’t be mean to Kaitlyn. We’re going to be very close, for sure, especially once she hears Master’s amazing mixtape. I bet Master would find it super hot if we made out for him, or if I taught her everything I knew about sex and how best to serve a perfect man like Master… and if Master wants her to have, like, even bigger boobies of fuller lips or anything that could make his dream girl even more dreamy, I’ll do it. I’ll be so happy to do it for him, because I just love him so much and I’m so glad he picked me to be his slutty succubus slave!

He’s coming to. I see his eyes start to open, still groggy and confused, but I can’t help myself when he makes even that look super sexy. He always looks super sexy to me. Makes me horny. Impatient. But… he’s Master, and he summoned me for a reason, so I have to be a good girl and do what I’m told!

“So, uh, yeah!” I say, trying not to seem like a total ditz when I’m a super-sexy succubus, “I think Kaitlyn’s gonna, like, love this mixtape!”