The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I don’t understand the tattoo,” says June as we head to the shop.

“I don’t either,” I tell her. It’s the truth. It’s the one thing she deserves and the one thing I’ve been avoiding for days now. “But I’ve explained it as best as I can.”

“Try again.”

I sigh. “I’m not a domme, right?”

“I disagree,” says June.

“Let’s say you agree for the point of me explaining.”

“You are a domme.”

“Ask Maria or Sandra if I’m a domme.”

“I don’t have to ask anyone. I’m your sub. I love you. I know the truth.”

“Reyna’s a domme. Lorelei’s a domme. I’m not them. I’ve been kidding myself.”

“You can be a switch. You don’t have to be one thing.”

“Tell that to Reyna,” I mutter. June sighs, and I know she’s rolling her eyes without looking. We round the corner away from the parking lot and turn onto the street where the tattoo parlour is. It’s misty, and it feels like it’s raining but not enough to bother with an umbrella. It’s a fairly miserable, but fairly typical, day in April.

“Coming to the conclusion that you’re a domme doesn’t mean you need to get a tattoo.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

I take a deep breath. “Because it’s final. This way, I’ll have my mind made up. I won’t waffle back and forth between the two.”

“It’s permanent,” she says and stresses the t.

“That’s why I want it.”

“What if next week you change your mind?”

“Then I’ll look at the tattoo and remember this whole conversation. I’ll stick to the decision I’ve tattooed on me.”

“What if you regret it?” I stop on the sidewalk. June takes a step past me, but then whirls around. “What?” she asks.

“The only thing I’ve regretted so far is not having my mind made up. I’ve paid a high price for not being able to answer Reyna’s question or trying to be something I’m not for Maria and Sandra and … and ...”

“Me,” she finishes. We stare at each other. This feels like a break up. It feels like a fight. I know it’s not. I know, deep down, that this is the beginning of something, not the end, but it doesn’t feel that way. If I’m a sub, I can’t be June’s domme. I was never much of a domme for her, but this is giving up on that entirely.

I nod and swallow. We’ve had this conversation in some form or another over and over. “Yes. I’ve failed all of you. I’m a terrible domme.”

“I like being under your control. I’m happy under your control.” The eagerness in her voice rips at me. I know she’s telling the truth, but I also know she’s holding back. I’m not Reyna. I’m not hard enough for her. She wants domination, and I can never provide that for her.

“You’re settling for me. Even if it is good, you deserve to have your every fantasy met.”

“I’m happy with you.”

“You’d be happier with Her. Or Lorelei. Or someone else.” I take a deep breath and run my hands through my hair. It’s cold, and I want to get this over with. I’m tired of this fight. “You know that’s true.”

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too,” I say. I walk up to her and kiss her. It’s soft at first, but in her desperation, she presses into me. She kisses me hungrily, but I don’t stoke her fire. I hold the back of her neck, and she tries to wrap herself around me. She’s trying to keep me, but I can’t stay like this. “I’m doing what’s best for both of us. You know that, right?” I feel her nod against me. “This is hard, but you can’t deny you want someone more controlling. I can’t deny that I want to be controlled. I don’t want an ‘okay’ life for you. I want the best life for you. I want the best life for me. That’s what I’m trying to do.” She nods again. “I know it hurts now, but someday soon, we’ll both be serving side by side as sisters, and I’ll still take your hand. I’ll still love you. I’ll always love you.”

June pulls away. She has tears in her eyes. Everything is cold and wet and grey, and I hate it. I wish this was a celebration, but it feels like a funeral. June nods, and then mumbles, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Serving together?”

I nod. “Serving together.”

“Always in love?”

“Always.”

She nods and kisses me again. This time, I let the passion overtake me. We’re making out in the middle of the sidewalk, but this may be one of the last times we kiss like this. After this tattoo, I’ll never be her domme or mistress or goddess again. We’ll both be free of responsibility and control. We’ll start over as sister sluts, eager to serve. Maybe I’ll contact Lorelei and offer myself to her. Yes. As I kiss June, I imagine kissing Lorelei and falling to my knees. She’s so powerful, and if I let her control me, if I let her take over my mind, I’ll never have to worry ever again. I’ll be free. I hope she wants two sluts. Then, June and I can be free together. No more wall of expectations between us. No more pressure between us. No more caretaking. There will just be freedom and fucking.

I break the kiss and take June’s hand. It slips easily into mine. I lead her to the tattoo parlour, and she whistles while we walk. Inside the shop, a cute girl covered in tattoos with blue hair and a sexy nose-ring consults with us. I show her the tattoo I want, and she asks where I want it.

“On the wrist.”

“Which one?”

I turn to June. “I masturbate with the right more than the left, correct?” June nods. “The right,” I say to the attendant. She stares for just a moment, then blinks and goes back to work on the stencil. June giggles behind me.

“Does this look right?” asks the artist as she shows me the stencil. I see the word “Paige” written in beautiful black letters that are designed almost to look like lace.

“It’s perfect,” I mutter, and squeeze my thighs together in delight.

Days later, things haven’t changed much. We haven’t been able to track Lorelei down, so we’ve been trying different dominatrixes in the area. None of them have the authority of Lorelei or the power of Reyna. If we’re going to be sluts, we want to serve someone worthy of us.

I roll over from a wonderful dream I can’t remember and feel the dampness of my pink panties. I liked the ones I found, so I got more. June didn’t say anything except to ask where I got them. She has her own now. I let out a soft moan. This is more and more the routine: each day I wake up painfully wet and need either to cum, shower, play with June, or all three. It’s all three more and more each morning that passes without a domme to control my urges.

June is ready for me. She rolls into me and immediately grabs the waistband of my panties. “Mmm,” she purrs. “Wet again?”

“Always,” I whisper.

“What do you need?”

“I need to cum.”

“I can tell.”

“Please, please help me,” I whimper. I’m half-asleep. Somewhere, in my dream, I know Reyna is waiting for me in all white. Or Lorelei. Or someone else. They will touch me, and I will cum from their touch.

“You can do it yourself,” says June. There’s an edge to her voice. I open my eyes. She’s not upset, but she’s distant.

“No, I can’t.” I look into her eyes. “I need you. I need help.”

I see her processing, and then a smile crawls across her face. “Oh, you do, do you?” I nod and bite my lips. Her fingers tug lightly on the waistband, and my hips undulate towards her, desperate to have her hands go lower. “Beg,” she orders.

“Please, June. Please. I need to cum. Please touch me. I need your help. I need to cum.” I slide closer to her and press my body against hers.

“You’re such a needy slut,” June whispers into my ear. My mind goes fuzzy and my vision blurs. Warmth spreads from my temples and runs down my cheeks. My whole face flushes. My eyes roll, and I close them to try and center myself. I am a needy slut. We’ve avoided that word since Reyna’s question, and maybe Sarah was afraid of it, but Paige is a slut. Paige is needy. Paige needs to cum all the time. She has kinky dreams and wakes up wet. Every day. She needs her girlfriend to take control because her sex drive is too wild and too hungry. Yes. She needs to be controlled. She needs to cum. She needs so much. She’s a needy slut.

“Yesss,” I hiss. June latches onto my neck and starts to kiss and nibble gently. I moan until it blends into hums as my hips swing and pound into June. Yes. I need her. “Fuck me, June. Please.” I need to be fucked. I’ve never been fucked. I need to be taken over, to be dominated. Yes. Paige needs June to fuck her.

“Oh, no,” taunts June, pulling away from me. She rolls off the bed and stands up. “I’m not June to you anymore. If you want to be a slut, I’ll be your goddess.”

“Yesssss.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, goddessss …” In my mind, June is in all white. She’s dressed in a white camisole with a small tiara and thick silver heels. She’s gorgeous and soft and powerful all at once. She’s a goddess, and if I want to cum ever again, I need to serve her. Yes.

“You’ve been very selfish, slut,” says June as she paces. I can hear the imaginary heels clicking. “Every morning, out of the goodness of my heart, I help you cum. What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, what?”

“Thank you, goddess.”

“Should sluts cum first?” she asks, walking to the other side of the bed where we keep our toys.

“No.”

“Do sluts need to cum at all?”

“I need to cum,” I whine. June grabs me and rolls me on my stomach. She smacks my ass hard. I squeal a little bit, but then she slaps the same spot again and again. I shriek in pain, and June lets go.

“Do sluts need to cum?”

“N-No,” I whimper.

“That’s right. If they get to cum, they should thank their goddess and stop being so fucking selfish.” I roll over to look at June, but she’s rummaging through the toy box.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Goddess,” she says without looking at me.

“What?”

“Don’t forget my title.”

“Yes … goddess.”

“I’m not mad at you,” she says. She stands up and has a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs in her hand. “I just figured it out. I know how to save us.”

“Save us?” I ask.

“Yes.” June sits on my back and handcuffs my hands behind my back. “I know what you’ve been thinking and dreaming about. Sometimes you talk in your sleep.”

I panic. What has she heard? “June, I don’t even know what I’m dreaming about some —”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” June gets off the bed and pulls on my arms until I follow. She keeps pulling, and I follow, walking backwards. She takes me into the living room and pulls me to my knees. As she heads back into the bedroom, she says, “You want Reyna. You want to be a slut. Every day you’re closer and closer to giving her your answer.”

“What?” I ask. I’m not surprised. Reyna haunts more than my dreams. She’s behind everything. She’s the reason for everything. She controls all the parts of my life. Why shouldn’t she control me, too?

“It’s okay. I know. I miss her. I think about her. I dream about her.”

“You do?” Everyone wants Reyna. I’m not upset or ashamed. Everyone should want Reyna. Reyna is a goddess. June can pretend to be a goddess. I can call June a goddess. But it will be make-believe. Reyna is the true goddess. June and I worship the same woman.

“In a way, yes. But I prefer what we have.” June returns with Maria’s music, some rope, and a small whip. “So, if you want to be a slut so bad, I’ll be your goddess. You can worship me. That will at least give us time to think and plan.”

“Why would you do that?”

June gets on her knees in front of me and lightly kisses my forehead. “Because I want you more than Reyna. I want you more than I want to be fucked. I want you more than anything in the world. And if I have to be a goddess to get you, then I’ll be a goddess.”

Tears fill my eyes. “You’d do that?” I ask. “For me?”

“I’d do anything for you, Sarah.” She’s serious as a hurricane, no play or games in her. This is the truth, as undeniable as the sun or Reyna. There is no place she would stop. There is nothing that can stop her. I am hers, and she is mine. I lean forward to kiss her, but she smiles and pulls away. “Not yet, slut. You need to be trained.” June stands and circles behind me.

“Uuu … okay.”

She pushes on my back. From my knees, my face goes to the floor and my ass goes in the air. She slaps my ass, and I yelp. “How do you refer to me?” Slap.

“Goddess!” I squeak. Slap. I scream. It’s the same spot. “Yes, Goddess!”

“Good, slut.” June pulls on the waistband of my panties, and I sit up. “Don’t forget my title.”

“Yes, Goddess.”

“Good. We’re going to train you.” She’s behind me, messing with something she brought from the bedroom, but I can’t see.

“Yes, Goddess.” I hear a click behind me, and soft music begins to play. I hear a flute and the sound of rain. My brain immediately tingles from the music, Maria’s music. June crosses in front of me and sits in the arm chair. She’s naked. She spreads her legs apart and beckons with her finger.

“Who gets to cum first?” she asks.

“Goddess does.”

“That’s right. Make me cum, slut.” I waddle towards her as best I can on my knees without my hands. I lean into her pussy and smell how wet it is. She’s loving this. Good. I can feel dribble running down my leg. I lean in and give her outer lips a small lick. She shivers in delight. Good. I can be good at this. Sluts are good at this. Sluts know their place. Sluts eat out their goddess. I keep my tongue still and use my neck and head to trace small circles and lines over her outer lips, taking my time with her. Her hands run through my hair and pull on me. I know she wants me to go faster, June always wanted to cum quickly. But this is a new June, a goddess June, and goddesses deserved to be worshipped with care.

“Good girl,” sighs June. “Now listen to the sound of my voice.” I hear the volume of the music increase, and my mind goes fuzzier. I can only focus on a small spot in front of me, June’s pussy, Goddess’ pussy. That is all I can see. That is all I can know. “You’re a slut,” says my goddess.

“I know.”

“Say it.”

“I’m a slut,” I repeat. I let my tongue lightly slip into her shaved pussy. I feel her whole body shiver in delight. I’m such a good slut.

“Sluts live to serve,” says goddess.

“I live to serve,” I say with my mouth still pressed against her pussy.

“Sluts serve their goddess.”

“I serve my goddessssss,” I draw out the ‘s,’ letting my lips vibrate against hers. I feel her legs clench and tighten. She likes that.

“I am your goddess.”

“You are my goddesssssss,” I hiss. I end the vibration with some pressure from my tongue and light flicking.

“You serve me.”

“I serve you.” My eyes are heavy. They close for just a moment, but I can see the scene from outside my body. I see Paige, the little slut, on her knees with her hands trapped behind her back. Her goddess sits in an armchair, legs spread and back arched. The slut happily licks her goddess’ pussy. She lives for pussy. A day without pussy is no day at all. That is the worst punishment the slut can endure, not being able to taste pussy for a day. The goddess is powerful and indifferent. She wears a simple silver tiara. White lace drapes over her but leaves nothing to the imagination. She has silver heels with an inch of platform. She is more than a woman. A woman can be ignored. A woman can be hurt. This is a goddess, a force of nature. A goddess of sex or pleasure. A goddess of control or subservience.

“Look at me, slut,” says the goddess.

The slut stops drinking the sweet nectar and looks up. “Yes, Goddess?”

“This is your place.”

“This is my place.” Paige is sinking deeper and deeper. She is losing herself but gaining entry into paradise. She’ll lose the whole world but earn heaven.

“You live to serve.”

“I live to serve.”

“Your mouth is for pussy.”

“My mouth is for pussy.” Each lick melts her mind. Paige is becoming less. More and more she becomes Sarah. More and more Sarah becomes the slut and Paige becomes the mask.

“Your tongue is for clits.”

“My tongue is for clits.” This is just the beginning. June was the start, the first. There will be so many more clits for Sarah to worship. She will become smaller and smaller until the best and most she can hope for is a pussy in her mouth. All other worldly concerns will drift away.

“You are a slut.”

“I’m a slut.” Paige is gone, and Sarah is reborn.

“You love being a slut.”

“I love being a slut.” Sarah is stronger the more she gives in. The weaker her mind, the stronger her bond to her goddess.

“You were always a slut.”

“I was always a slut.” There was never any hope to be a goddess. Sluts are born, not made. Sarah has been aching for this since the moment she met Reyna.

“You’ll always be a slut.”

“I’ll always be a slut.” As long as there is Reyna, as long as there is a goddess to serve, Sarah will be her slut. She will serve and never ask and never take. She will receive what the goddess wants to give her, and that will be enough.

“My slut.”

“Your slut.”

“Look up at me, slut.” Sarah lifts her head and sees Reyna in her sheer white dress. She’s never tasted Reyna’s pussy before, but it tastes so good. Why did she fight this? Why did she run from this? She’s always been hungry for this. This is a taste she’s wanted her whole life, but she never knew the name for what she was craving. She was craving this: obedience on her knees, pussy in her mouth, and Reyna above her. “What do you see?” asks the goddess.

“My goddess,” she says.

“Yes, little Sarah,” whispers the goddess. Sarah delights in her goddess. She delights in hearing her name on her goddess’ tongue.

“Thank you, goddess,” mutters Sarah. She’s crying. She’s never been happier in her life. This is what she’s wanted. This is all she’s wanted.

“Make me cum, slut.” Sarah knows this is her reward. Good sluts get to make goddesses cum. How many get to make Reyna cum? Only the lucky. Only the chosen. Sarah is chosen. Reyna has hunted her for months, all to get Sarah’s eager tongue between her legs. She buries her tongue into her goddess’ pussy. The tongue finds the clit. Sarah bends and writhes her tongue while pressing it against the clit, trying to imitate a vibrator. She shakes her entire head, trying to draw her goddess closer and closer to climax. Reyna has to cum. Goddesses cum first. Only then may Sarah ask to cum.

There is a knock on the door, and I feel myself enter back into my body. I’m kneeling before my goddess, trying to make her cum. There is another knock on the door. I look up at my goddess, who looks annoyed. Everything happens faster than it did outside my body. Everything is too fast. She goes to answer the door. Reyna is at the door. Reyna pulls Reyna out into the hallway. Reyna pulls June out into the hallway. June pulls June out into the hallway. The music plays. I should do something. I should be doing something. Sluts should be serving. There is always something for me to do. I should touch myself. I shouldn’t listen to the muffled shouts. I should go deeper into the music. Goddess would want me deeper. I should bury all parts of myself until I am nothing, until I am whatever Goddess wants. I can see me taking the small parts of Sarah, her love of music, her love of words, her writing, her hopes, her plans, her favorite foods, and putting them in moving boxes in my mind. I can pack up all parts of me until I am nothing but a blank canvas.

Reyna comes back into the apartment and sits at her throne. Her black dress is cute and soft. It looks comfortable. Her simple black flats are girlish but stylish. I wish I could be her, but the closest I’ll ever get is to obey her. Obeying her is to put her thoughts in my head. Obeying her is to become her from moment to moment.

“This is where you’ve been hiding?” asks goddess.

“Yes.”

“It’s a dump.”

My cheeks burn with shame. I’ve disappointed her. I’m so stupid. I’m such a stupid slut. “Yes. It is.” I look at the floor, at her feet. I can’t bear to have her eyes on me. This place is a dump because I haven’t cleaned it. It’s disgusting because I’m disgusting. Only goddess can make me clean.

“I’ll never understand why you avoided me for this.”

“I don’t understand either, goddess.”

I feel her fingers cup the bottom of my chin. She has an amused look on her face. “What’s this?” she asks. I look into her eyes. They are gold and rich. Small freckles perch on her cheeks like stars. Her black hair cascades down her shoulders like the night sky. She is a goddess. She is god. Her eyes are like nectar, like resin, like ambrosia, the food of the gods. If a mortal were to eat ambrosia, they would become immortal or burn up on the inside. What a beautiful way to do die …

“Little June has learned a trick. Or did she steal it from Maria?” Her voice is a warm breeze of an incoming storm. Her brow furrows. “I never appreciated such tricks. They are all shadows of true power.”

My mind slips away from my body. I am neither Sarah nor Paige. I am in her eyes. In her eyes, the slut in front of her drools. The goddess reaches out a finger and catches it. “That’s disgusting, dear,” she says. “With me, you’d never be reduced like this. You’d be enhanced. You’d be more aware, not less.” She drops the slut’s chin and pushes her away. “I can’t stand you like this.”

The goddess gets up and paces around the room. “I’m embarrassed to be here. I waited for you to come to me, to beg me to rescue Maria. But you didn’t. I thought you had escaped. I thought you were strong. My girls rarely saw you. You were like a ghost.” The goddess goes into the kitchen and gets a towel. She tosses it to the slut. “Clean yourself up.” The goddess reclaims her throne before the pathetic, drooling slut.

“I always knew you were her, but we didn’t know what was happening in here. Many girls offered to find out themselves. They made plans. Silly things like sneaking in or pretending to be a repairwoman. I hate these things. I had to see myself. I had to know how my little Sarah was doing.” She scoffs at the sight of the disgusting slut. “Stand.” The slut stands. “Not well. You are not well, little Sarah. I find you playing pretend with little June. How embarrassing.”

The goddess catches the slut’s wrist. “What’s this?” She pulls the tattooed wrist towards her. “You marked yourself? It’s not for sluts to mark themselves. Tsk tsk tsk.” The goddess lifts the sluts’s wrist and twists, forcing the slut to do a little twirl for her goddess. “You’re so eager and still not ready. It’s a shame.”

“What do you mean?” asks the slut.

“Get on your knees.” The slut obeys. “Look into my eyes.” The slut obeys. “Look deeper than you’ve ever looked before. Your life is in there, little Sarah. Your soul is in my eyes. Find it. All you’ve ever needed is in my eyes.”

In her eyes, I am perfect. I see the tattoo she wants for me. I see my pierced nipples. I see my hair in pigtails. I see pink. And lace. I’m so happy. Little Sarah is so happy. Reyna takes her around the city on a leash and offers her to beautiful women, strangers. I cringe in disgust, but Little Sarah is so happy. She’s never been happier. She falls to her knees without a thought. Her mouth waters without a thought. She helps the woman with her skirt without a thought. She pulls down the woman’s panties without a thought. She licks her lips without a thought. She licks the cunt without a thought. She purrs without a thought. She serves without a thought. She is hungry, but Reyna finds ways to satisfy her slut’s hunger. This is nothing like I’d imagine. It’s better and worse all at once. I pity and envy Little Sarah. I want to comfort her and destroy her. I hate her and want to watch her get fucked.

“Are you Waking Sarah or Sleeping Sarah?” asks Reyna.

“Sleeping Sarah.”

“Does Waking Sarah know?”

“No.”

“Is Waking Sarah still in control?”

“Yes.”

“Who is Paige?”

“Paige is a slut.”

“Is Paige Waking or Sleeping Sarah?”

“Paige is Waking Sarah.”

“She’s another game, like the Mistress she pretended to be.” It’s not a question, so I’m not sure how to answer. I stand in silence, in awe, admiring Reyna. “What are you, Sleeping Sarah?”

“A slut.”

“What do you want?”

“To be yours. To be taken.”

“To be controlled?” asks Reyna. Hunger thrums through my body. Warmth and chills roll over my skin and linger on my thighs. Yes. I want to be controlled. I want to lose control. I want to be safe, but I don’t want to be in charge anymore. I don’t want to think. I want to be free. I need to be free. I let out a slight moan and tilt my head back.

“Please,” I whimper.

Reyna leans forward, amusement dances on her face. “Please, what?”

“Please take me.”

“Why would I want you?”

“Isn’t this all for me?”

I hear the crack of her palm before I feel it. My vision flashes white and then black. My cheek lights with fire, and my hand goes instinctively to protect my cheek from another slap. “This is for me,” says Reyna. “Everything is for my amusement. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“You are only special as long as you are entertaining. Is that clear?”

I nod.

“I can toss you away as easily as Maria or June or Jace or Karla or Kathy or Diana or the hundreds whose name’s I know no longer.”

I nod.

“You are nothing.”

“I know.” My eyes go to the floor. Compared to her, I am nothing. I’m no goddess. I’m no mistress. I’m nothing at all. A slut is nothing at all.

“No,” says Reyna. “You don’t. You’re not ready.”

I look up at Reyna in panic. She turns from me and walks towards the door. “Wait!” I shout. “Don’t go! What do you mean I’m not ready?”

Reyna turns at me. I see the revulsion in her eyes. She hates me, and I need to learn that hatred. “What do I get?” she asks.

“What?”

“If I take you, what do I get?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Show me.”

“How?”

“Not my problem. Prove yourself, slut. I’m tired of games and masks. The next time I see you, Waking Sarah should be gone. Come to me as you are, as you truly are, or never again.”

Reyna slams the door of the apartment. I feel myself leave her eyes, and her warm presence over my skin fades. I fall to my knees and start to cry. June rushes in and hugs me. She holds me while I weep.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yes,” says June with a nod. “I’m definitely sure.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of her?”

“No.” I can’t tell her. “Afraid of losing you.”

“I’ll be there. I’ll be around. We’ll be like sisters. If we’re good, Reyna will order us to fuck some stranger together.” She smiles. It should be funny. We should be giggling and horny. This should be the beginning of beautiful sex.

“I don’t want to lose us,” I whisper.

“I know, love.” She kisses my forehead. “I want you to be happy, remember? We both think this is the only way you’ll be happy.”

“The cost is too high,” I mumble.

“No cost is too high for you.” She kisses me deeply. I hold the kiss, as though the moment the kiss ends, all the magic will end. Everything will be a dream when we pull apart. I remember the first time I saw June. I remember her waitress outfit. I remember how she flirted. I remember her slipping me her number. I remember how quickly she slipped Reyna her number as well. Reyna took her then, and she’s taking her now.

June breaks the kiss and pulls back to look into my eyes. “You’d do this for me?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Go back to her?”

“Yes.” I can’t tell her. She can’t know.

“You’re sure?” I ask.

“If you were with me there, I’d be happy.” I nod. “We’ll both be happy.”