The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Corelle D’Amber had called me a week ago and asked me to quit my career with the FBI cold.

Just to make it even more interesting, she offered to hire me as a security expert for PolyCorp reporting directly back to her, equal in status to Evelyn Flaumel. A six-figure salary was mentioned.

I asked her for some time to think.

I’d known Corelle for close to a year but I didn’t suppose anyone really knew her. They all knew the entrepreneur financial legend or the reclusive billionaire that bought young companies and then let those firms make their own legends. Maybe they knew the feminist role model making good in the male business arena, but that wasn’t really Corelle. Corelle was the author of her public identity. In fact, Corelle D’Amber didn’t really exist except as a persona created to serve in the modern world. That wasn’t her name and I often wondered if she remembered the name that she had been born with.

Someday I’d ask her.

But arriving at Corelle’s place in the country, I had a surprise for Corelle and a hunch that she’d like it. I was excited at the notion I was a step ahead of her. Louisa showed me into Corelle’s office, I winked at her as she left us to our chat.

She returned the wink, a favorite diversion between the two of us.

Corelle started right in, “Doris. Thanks for coming.”

“Couldn’t resist, really.” I took a seat, “And before you start in on me, I gave my notice at the FBI. I’m ready to accept your offer.”

Corelle smiled. “Excellent. What made you change your mind? Last week you were shocked at my call.”

I looked at her. Auburn hair, now styled short like a boy’s or a radical lesbian activist, and single green eye the color of an ancient angry ocean were her dominant features. I liked the new look. It contrasted well with her appearance when we found her in the palace of Celestial Fu. I didn’t like remembering pulling Corelle out of Hong Kong. How weak she had been. How she had started screaming as soon as she fell asleep on the plane back.

I was a trained observer, but a year ago, would I have realized she wasn’t human? Would I have noticed the strange thinness of her lips, the unusual arch of her heavy brows, the sharp planes of her face, the unusual size of her eye and lashes, the smallness of her wrists or the odd vibration I felt when she was near? Could I have known I’d fall madly in love with her?

No. I smiled, “It took me a while to realize you were lying. That made things too interesting to resist.”

Her smile disappeared. “Oh?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I took a deep breath, I hoped I was right about this, “This isn’t about me working security for you, it’s about Hong Kong. It’s about me. It’s about some kind of unfinished business with Celestial Fu. At least, that’s what I think.” I studied her calm trying to emulate it.

Without taking her eyes off me, she opened a drawer and pulled out a wooden box. Setting it on the desk she opened it and took out two cigarettes from an ordered ranking of dozens. She tossed me one.

I caught it. “Wha—?”

She lit her cigarette and tossed me the lighter. “Have a smoke.”

“I don’t smoke. When did you start smoking?” This was peculiar.

She drew on the cigarette and just stared at me. No answer to my question seemed forthcoming. OK. I thumbed the lighter and drew on the cigarette. I was young enough that I’d never even tried smoking. I crossed my legs and smoothed my skirt. One taste and I could see it would not become a favorite of mine. I cleared my throat. “Hmm. Yummy. Why am I learning to smoke?”

Corelle smiled, “Good question, let’s start there.” She leaned back in her chair and I almost expected her to put her feet up on the desk, she suddenly looked so relaxed. “Smoking kills people. It’s a poison, a habit that is seductive and fascinates the mind and body. Smoking alters the body and the mind in dangerous ways.”

My heart quickened. Something about this was suddenly very important and I had no idea why.

“Smoking. Fire. Consumption of the body’s resources in the material world while the mind becomes slowly euphoric and needful of the repeated experience. Smoking is something like sex. Attraction. Repulsion. Pulling in the combustive reactive material, blending the profane with the pure of self.”

She blew a very long stream of smoke at the ceiling and smiled like she had invented a cure for cancer. A bizarre thought considering what we were doing.

“Have I got your interest?” She looked at me.

“Yes.” I had no idea where this was going.

“Good. You’re right. I lied when I asked you to come here to work for me. I’m barely interested in your law enforcement skills. I’m glad you know, I would have told you today anyhow.”

I nodded. I believed her. “OK.”

“I want to initiate you. I want you to put your life in my hands, Doris. To walk into the unknown with me and perhaps leave something of your humanity behind.” She watched me, letting smoke slowly crawl out of her mouth and caress its way up the sharp angles of her face.

I gasped. Shit. Coughed. It caught me off guard. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this really wasn’t it. I tried a couple of times to catch my breath.

She waited. Smoking, slowly and as if she were waiting for an unheard symphony to reach the apex of its crescendo.

I studied her watching me. I deliberately put the filter in my lips and took a long drag of the biting smoke. Then I sharply blew the sensation out. “When do we start? And why now and why me?”

Corelle nodded, “We’ve already started, Doris. Why now, because I may not have time later. Why you, because of all the women I’m in contact with right now, you have the strongest Gift. Your blood somewhere in the past resonates with some Blood of my kin. That makes you the best choice for a student.”

“I’m honored.” I whispered. “I’ve been excited by the possibility ever since you first took me into your confidence. Your kin? Do you mean your own clan?”

“Don’t be honored,” she returned harshly, “human initiates usually die when introduced to the Great River. Your chances of living through this are poor. No, not my clan, probably closer to the Blood of the Dark Gypsy, the one who phoned Evelyn calling herself Tapestry.”

It didn’t feel right that I could come this far and just die, but I believed her on this, too. “OK, I’m not honored. I’m not too afraid of dying, Corelle. When you learn to carry and use firearms, you understand how quickly it can all end. I’m ready to learn. Teach me.”

She took a long drag on her smoke and slowly exhaled it. It was too long a pause and I was too keyed up. “So have you ever done this before?” I crossed my fingers.

She nodded, “I thought you’d ask that. Yes. I’ve tried three times. I came closest to success the last time and that wasn’t very close.” She blew smoke softly into the air.

Disappointed, I swallowed, “Fourth time’s the charm.”

“Do you want to know how the others died? That’s a reasonable question.” Corelle smiled.

I felt something. A twitch? A pulse of what? I didn’t know. I did have a curiosity about those earlier students, but it felt like the wrong way to start. “Will I care if I’m dead? Will knowing how they died help me live through it?”

Corelle laughed, “No.” She seemed very pleased.

I smiled nervously. I wished my response hadn’t felt like a lie.

I signed the last employment contract and attending documents, including a power of attorney for disposal of my body by cremation in the event of my death while working for PolyCorp. Just in case I hadn’t thought Corelle was serious about how deadly my ‘initiation’ might be, I now had solid evidence. She was serious.

Louisa cleared lunch plates from the conference table. Corelle had left to talk to someone. Louisa layered things precisely on the tray. She chatted with me about my coming to work for Corelle and how impressed she was with how Evelyn and I had pulled Corelle out of Hong Kong. She picked up the laden tray and hesitated. “Doris, keep an eye on the boss. Watch her carefully, won’t you?”

I studied Louisa’s sensuous coffee-colored expression. “Sure. Any special reason?”

Louisa hefted the tray up and looked at the dishes before answering, “She’s not the same since she came back. She’s hiding something. Maybe you can find out what she won’t tell the rest of us. I think she’s protecting us from something.” She looked at me.

“OK.” I nodded, interested. “I’ll do my best. Have you said anything to Evelyn?”

She nodded, “Oh, yes.” High-heeled footsteps echoed in the hall, Louisa quickly shot me a kiss and left with a flirty smile. So Corelle found me thinking about it still when she came back into the office. She had Dr. Rand with her.

Bess Rand was something of a puzzle to me. She’s smart, a very sharp cookie. She’s a consulting psychologist on tough cases; cases where other doctors have already given up or failed to make progress with the patient. Bess had eyes that could smoothly drill a hole right through pretense or social niceties. She was a snob and she knew just how much smarter than the rest of us she was. She didn’t mind if we knew it either.

I was really surprised to see her introduced to this conversation. I couldn’t imagine anyone less intuitive or mystical than Doctor Bess.

Corelle walked to where I was sitting, “You know Bess. She’s going to help me with your new situation, Doris. She’ll be starting your lessons.”

Ouch! “What?” This felt all wrong. I often had hunches. This one was telling me I had just been totally screwed. I stood up and looked between Bess and Corelle. Bess looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary with one gulp.

Corelle leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, “I want you to do whatever Bess tells you to, Doris. I’ll keep track of your progress. We will get together a few times a week for a while and see how things develop.”

Betrayed with a kiss. My eyes must have been enormous; Bess looked like she was going to laugh out loud. I was starting to feel a trickle of eerie unease. My image of a wonderful relationship with Corelle, of learning amazing secrets from the centuries of her life had just been busted like a soap bubble dream. I just found myself nodding.

Bess added, “And she does mean whatever I tell you, Doris. Come along sweetie, I have some ideas about your dinner wardrobe, to begin with.”

I couldn’t help it. I just looked at Corelle with an open question in my eyes. I dragged you from a demon’s palace for this?

“If you can’t work with Bess, then you’ll never be able to keep up with me in the advanced lessons.” Corelle met my gaze.

Oh, boy. So that’s the way it was. I nodded. I was stunned to find that Dr. Bess knew Corelle’s secrets. I looked at Bess; she wasn’t happy with my attitude, I could tell. There was a tightness to her mouth that as much said, you cheeky little shit, wait until I get you alone.

Oh, boy. Terrific. Just terrific.

At dinner that night, per Bess’ orders, I was only wearing nipple clamps, huge false eyelashes and a ton of makeup. I looked precisely like a paid whore. I felt like a clown, and considering that the week before, I’d been a legal agent of the federal government, I was particularly mortified. My nipples were numb and throbbing at the same time. I always hated being naked in public. My tits were small. I had a skinny ass. It didn’t help that everyone else at the table was dressed.

OK. I admit to my arousal. I’m not an exhibitionist and hardly into humiliation, but I’m a sucker for Corelle’s strong and confident hand. Corelle has a vibe, a quality that just makes me wet thinking about it. Corelle commanding me is like a slow dance of some ethereal beauty.

Bess dominating me made me want to puke.

I ate dinner with as much grace as I could manage. I wasn’t happy to be even thinking I might stay aroused. I was sure that would only encourage Bess. Once dinner was nearly over, things deteriorated.

“Corelle, may I have Doris entertain us a bit?” Bess has a very sweet voice and great delivery. She could do news on TV.

I didn’t look at Corelle. She had handed me over to Bess; there was no point in looking for reactions.

Corelle nodded to Louisa as the crystal goblets of chocolate mousse were delivered on the white linen tabletop. “As you wish, Bess.”

I tightened my ass muscles hearing such cool agreement from Corelle. I swallowed my disappointment. All right, since I was miserable and this was just the first fucking day, I grabbed my discipline and gave myself a talking to. Pretend it’s Corelle that’s controlling you. Just go with it for a while and see what happens. There is something to be learned here. Remember the sunshine and the poolside sex of the first time. Remember the dreamy arousal of Corelle’s voice putting you in your place. Remember swearing fealty. You belong to Corelle.

Bess smiled, “Climb up on the table, hands and knees, Doris. I want you to eat your dessert out of the glass without using anything but your tongue and mouth. Now.”

Louisa came over and put the mousse in front of me. She met my eyes and then moved off.

Damn.

I pushed the chair back and climbed up on the table slowly. Finding a good balance, I began licking the rich dessert from the glass. Bess smiled her approval. I felt myself begin to get stomach cramps from my anger. I seized the notion in my head and tried to change it all around to being centered on Corelle. Corelle was what mattered. Bess was just doing what she was told.

It actually helped a little.

Bess watched me with glittering eyes, “Now in between mouthfuls, I want you to say, ‘I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking’. Get into the role a bit, dear.”

Anger shot back and forth behind my eyes. I bent my head and scooped more sweetness into my mouth with my tongue. I was close to throwing up. “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.” I bent back to the dish, thrusting with my tongue. It was a heady flavor, laced with liquor, the taste sweet, “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.” I lapped more chocolate. “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.”

I was making myself ill. I felt too grounded in the travesty. I couldn’t imagine this scene with only Corelle and myself. I lost my emotional balance. My ass cheeks warmed. I was wet. More chocolate. “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.” I refused to look at them. I didn’t want to see Corelle’s expression, but my peripheral vision betrayed me. Corelle was thinly smiling. I sobbed. Tears hit the tablecloth. Lick. “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.”

Bess slid a spoonful of dessert into her mouth and nodded her pleasure to me.

Scoop. “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.”

Bess smiled, “Use your left hand. Play with yourself until you cum.”

I started to massage my sex. I was very wet there. Surprised but determined, I tongue scooped and played with myself, “I wish this was Mistress Bess’ ass I was licking.”

It went on and on and on. I couldn’t find the pleasure, but I couldn’t stop. It took an hour for me to force a climax.

Corelle watched me the entire time. Everyone watched me.

Then I had finally orgasmed. The glass was tipped over. I rested my forehead on the tablecloth, panting and trying to breath through the bitter frustration.

Corelle only said, “Not bad, Bess. Not bad.” She got up and wished us all good night.

Bess glowed, lit with an unholy light. I hung my head, dripping sweat. Bess walked me to her bed that night. I serviced her cunt with my dirty mouth and there was no pretense.

I was her toy. Her slut.

I was sucked down into numbness after the first week. I found it easier and easier to obey. Bess strained me in ways both physical and profane. First, I grew to hate obeying her. She used my emotions and demonically played me like an instrument. After three weeks, when I still wasn’t released from my slavery, I grew to hate Bess in all her particulars. Passionately.

After two months, I finally realized Corelle had gone mad. That’s when I knew we were all doomed. The entire circle of Corelle’s conquests was doomed. The misery would spread and engulf all of us one by one. I had nightmares about Hong Kong. Nightmares about what would happen to Evelyn, Louisa, and the others. Each face, each dream was more wretchedly doomed than the last. I dreamed that Bess had amber eyes.

I lost track of the days.

I became a good toy. An excellent slut. It was my Mistress Bess’ pleasure to have me become her cow. I was painted like a cow and wore a collar and bell. It hardly pained me. The nights were the worst. The nights of fulfilling Mistress’ fantasies burned in my mind during the days. The Mistress was inventive beyond belief.

I had gone beyond hate. My flesh despised her. My pleasure was a bitter betrayal of my self-esteem. I found veins of pleasure in the madness. I obeyed faultlessly to frustrate my Mistress. She could find nothing I wouldn’t do at her command. She never stopped looking for the resistance.

Such was our struggle.

But then, she was a genius, and this was her Art. One morning, Mistress came out of the shower toweling her hair. “I want you to go and ask Corelle for breast reduction surgery.”

I was on the floor on my belly, as suited one who served Mistress about the house on hands and knees. “Yes, Mistress,” I muttered.

Bess stopped and looked at me, “Now, Doris. I want you to do it now.”

I pushed up off the floor, surprised. Then I thought about what I was agreeing to. Reduction?! Damn! I didn’t have much to reduce. Then I thought about asking Corelle.

She’d agree.

I’d—. I—.

Bess flushed and walked over grabbing my chin. She pulled my chin up and stared in my eyes. I saw the fires of hell in her eyes. “NOW! You will go and ask Corelle to have your breasts removed completely. Leave the nipples so that you have something to clamp and pierce.”

“Yes, Mistress!” I wailed. I hurried off on my hands and knees.

How could I? How could she? Corelle was mad. She’d agree. I’d be mutilated. Bess was insane. I was trapped.

I scurried along trying to remember how to stop all this. I was a person; I could grab a coat and walk out. Louisa would help me, she’d seen the misery and madness. Weeks ago, Evelyn had confided to me that I didn’t have to do this. Everyone would understand. I came to the stairs, my head buzzing and my eyes swimming with tears. The stairs led down to the foyer and the front door. Freedom.

I started crawling down the stairs. I had gone too far, been too trusting. My erotic submission to Corelle seemed like a beautiful dream that had happened to someone else. Mistress owned me and had again shown me how much more of me there was to pull apart. I couldn’t find the place where my will and ego would have lifted me off my hands and knees. I slipped once on the steps. The sudden lurch was a shock up my arm and my head jerked painfully. I paused, breathing deeply and I knew.

I was broken. I didn’t have the power to stop myself. My back started burning with prickly ache. My panic settled into my body’s senses and ran riot. The rubber ball plug in my ass felt like it was expanding every time I took a shuddering breath. The collar around my neck weighed more than my entire head, I could barely lift my eyes from the floor. I sobbed and crawled to Corelle’s office. I knocked on the bottom of the door.

“Come in.”

My bell clanked as I pushed the door open and crawled into the room. With a foot, I pushed the door closed behind me. I scrambled across the hardwood floor to the back of Corelle’s desk where she could more easily see me.

“Yes, Doris?” She stopped using the keyboard and took out a cigarette. She lit it.

I wanted a cigarette. I wanted to smoke and laugh and smile with Corelle. I swallowed my crying and tried to get myself in some balance yet again. I was dizzy. Hyped. “I’m to ask for breast reduction surgery.”

She arched an eyebrow and looked irritated, “Oh? Why would I spend that kind of money on you?”

Spend? I was only an expense now? My head spun. I felt sparks of cold remorse in my gut. I explained what Mistress Bess wanted. “Mistress demands my breasts be surgically removed except for the nipples. Nothing left but nipple enough to clamp and pierce.”

Corelle nodded, “Ah. Well, that’ll be a cute look for you. Sort of an immature and corrupted creature. We might as well go the whole distance and get your hair electrically removed from the neck down. You’ll keep the de-sexed look and won’t have to shave that way.” She picked up the phone. “Louisa, get Dr. Stanhope on the phone. I’ll wait.” She blew a stream of bluish smoke.

Memories snapped. Horror. Defilement. Something sacred between Corelle and I. Something she had said to me the first day of my service to her. I’d prefer it if you shaved your pussy. In fact, shave every day from the neck down.

The sparks made me numb. She was revoking the covenant between us. My ritual homage was no longer necessary. It was all being discarded. My hairless arms, the difficulty of shaving my back, the pointlessness of my hairless stomach were nothing. She was saying I was nothing. She had given me to Bess and there was nothing else.

We were done. Finished. The room went away. Everything began to die. My heart tore inside my chest.

I went blind for a moment. Her husky voice went on, “Corelle here. I need your recommendation for an excellent cosmetic surgeon. Someone who is an artist.”

I tasted blood in my mouth. I blinked. I slowly stood up as a horrible vibration was kissing my spine. I shook as if an industrial powered dildo was jammed up my ass. I reached out and grabbed the phone and yanked its cord out of the wall. “No.”

Corelle snapped at me, “You little cunt! How dare you!” She reached for her eye patch.

No!! I leapt on her, tumbling her chair over backwards and spilling us both to the wood floor with an immense crash. The bell around my neck clanged. My spine burned. She was stronger than I realized, but I had her arms. She kneed me in the crotch. I bit her breast. She slammed her forehead against mine. Cold sparks swam the horrible vibration from my ass up my spine and crashed into my neck. She tried twisting my arm. I slammed my knee into her crotch. She gasped and lurched over on top of me. I swung her momentum over again and crashed her shoulders into the corner of the desk. The bell kept pealing. She snapped her teeth into my lower lip. I tasted more blood. My head pounded, my swollen brain thrust at the cracked lattice of my skull. I crushed my lips against hers. I was so hot with the need to win her back. Take me, Corelle!

She clawed at my back. She moaned. Her lips were like branding irons. They seared me. I thrust my tongue into her mouth. Take me!

My aching spine rattled my cracking head and there was no relief for the swelling of my brain. The constriction started to slice the meat of my mind. I tore her blouse. I thrust my leg between hers. Take me!

I sucked her tongue into my mouth. I rode her knee, sopping on her thigh. She shuddered as I found her clit with my thigh under her skirt and began rhythmically thrusting against her. Take me!

“Fuck me,” Corelle groaned, “take me. Stretch me. Make me burn.”

The pain and I shared a surprise orgasm. The fire ran from my asshole to my sliced brain and down into my mouth and into hers. She was groping and pinching my sweat glistened flesh. I pulled her closer. Take me!

I thought I was dying in her arms. I wanted. I knew she needed. Take me!

I found strength to fuck her with every inch of my dying body. Take me! Take me! Take me! Take me!

Her inner self opened and enfolded my thrusts. Inside she was a burning river. She started to cum. I nearly fainted as I was battered by her orgasm. We burned. The flames rushed from within and we were kindling that tasted like lips, sweat and pussy.

I rode the waves of snapping fire as long as I could. I felt my bones melt down and begin to cook me from the inside out. I howled at an inhuman register, “Taaaaaaake meeeeeeeee!”

I’ve been battered and bruised by karate masters and streetfighters teaching FBI self-defense. I’ve woken to tough mornings and not been able to make a fist or laugh because of the bruising of my flesh.

None of those masters would survive sex with Corelle with the gloves off.

We lay tangled in each other’s limbs on the hardwood floor. I ached from toes to eyelids. I blinked at the morning sunlight. Corelle was stroking my hair.

I saw the bubbled varnish and burn marks on the hardwood floor around us and swallowed my awe.

Louisa crept in and looked for us. Corelle’s skirt was torn and singed, stockings laddered and melted, blouse and bra gone. She had a huge bloody bite mark on her right nipple that I couldn’t believe I had done. My body paint was smeared and smelled like burnt rubber, I was scratched, my lip was split and swollen. My hair stank of curling iron left on too long. I bet I looked the worse. Louisa’s eyes examined us and judged we would live. She finally smiled.

She set down two glasses of orange juice on the floor near us. She shook her head, “Well, I hope that’s over girls. You two sounded like five cats on fire being fed into a mulching machine.” She turned and walked out wagging her ass. I saw her smiling when she turned around, closing the door.

Corelle chuckled softly, “. . .cats on fire. . .”

I knew I was changed. I held up a hand and looked closely, but paint and blood didn’t tell me the story. Inside I was somehow different, stretched into something larger. It also felt like my skin didn’t quite fit properly. I smiled and turned to see Corelle doing likewise. She sought my lips with hers. We kissed a long time. Her lips were still painful to touch, like cooling molten leather.

She leaned back on the floor and sighed, “Congratulations, Doris. I believe you’ve learned what I expected you could from Bess. I’m sure you’ll like the advanced lessons much, much less.”