The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The mountain air bit into the woman’s lungs sharply, even after a month of growing accustomed to the biting chill. It simply took more than a few short weeks to overcome a lifetime of relative ease.

Three months ago, she mused, she would not have called anything about her life easy. Recuperating from a kidnapping, bitter and tired, she had considered stopping everything. Thankfully, she had enough self-knowledge to understand that her feelings were mostly a reaction to the most recent events in her life.

For once, the ministrations of her lovely sluts had not been enough to overcome her self-doubt, even though she had “enlisted” them. With no real sense of direction, and the trauma of having been kidnapped and broken, even for a brief time, she had grown more and more despondent. The idea of heading into the wilderness to collect her thoughts seemed like a very good one.

Now, considering everything that had happened since that time, she was still unsure if she had taken the wiser course. The struggle to reclaim herself had been a continuous uphill fight from the very first step, both figuratively and literally.

There were simple joys in which to indulge. The crisp air, though thin, was cleansing and pure. The daytime sky was a deep, rich blue that felt like it was a million miles deep, and the night sky was so filled with stars that it nearly looked white.

And there was this moment, too. Looking across the snow-covered peaks of the Canadian Rockies, she felt an awe she had not felt since childhood. With the tree line far below her, and rocks beneath her feet, she noticed how the mountains around her had changed their character as the day wore on. What was once a double ridge far in the distance became a rimmed, high valley, now that she was looking from a higher place.

She felt a jolt through her body as something fell into place inside her soul. An insight into existence, into perspective, into possibility. Her mouth fell open in shock, and then wonder. And then, with only the briefest hitch of surprise in her breath, she softly began to cry. Without a thought of why, she let the tears begin to flow, like raindrops feeding a trickle that would become a river. A river that would not be channeled or dammed.

She stood perfectly still, willingly letting her emotions expand, the tears coming harder and more strongly as she released her fear. After a moment, she could not have stopped it even if she had wanted to... like the proverbial leak in the dyke, her sorrow had been relentlessly looking for this opening.

She staggered as the sudden depth of her grief and sadness washed through her, the sobs felling the walls that had so securely protected, and then imprisoned, her wounded, festering heart.

Bestial wails of grief tore out of her and carried down the mountainside, across the valleys, gaining an odd gracefulness as they echoed out and back.

She fell to her knees, and then prostrate on the ground, begging the rocks to finish shattering the cracked glass that was her soul.

Take me... grant me rest... grant me peace... were the only thoughts that came out of the powerful emotion ravaging the essence and shell of her existence... and then, she was gone.

For a little while.

The old woman stood beside the body of the young one, who lay face down on the ground. She held her shawl together at her neck as she smiled sadly and closed her wrinkled, but timeless eyes. Night would be here soon. Yes... rest, sister... for there is much need in you...

The old woman stood for a very long time, a gentle smile playing on her pursed lips as her body slowly, almost imperceptibly, swayed.

She felt the mind of the younger woman flowing around her own, taking nourishment and healing. She reached within the girl to touch here and there... although this young girl would have to make her own realizations, the old woman needed for her to be willing to listen, her mind healed enough to learn.

Finally, the sun fell behind the summit of the mountain, leaving them both in shadows. Opening her eyes, the old woman called in a nearly silent whisper, and from over the nearest ridge, a line of eight figures came, and placed the young woman on a litter.

Slowly, but with the surefooted steps of perfect familiarity, they disappeared into the shadows just beyond the near horizon.

Opening her eyes, the rescued woman slowly looked around. She was in a short bed, just barely above the floor... the old worn wood of the walls flickered in the light from fireplace and candles.

“So, you decided not to die after all,” came a voice from a shadowed corner of the room. “That is a very good thing, Julia.”

Too tired to be startled, Julia asked, “How do you know my name? I didn’t bring any ID. And don’t tell me I said it in my sleep.”

“You didn’t. You are, however, at a disadvantage. I am Fiona, High Castana of the Ambrian Sect of Lost Daughters,” said the old woman. She stepped into the light so that Julia could see her. “You may not have heard of us, but you are... one of us.”

Julia looked at Fiona’s smile, her long, flowing white hair, and the deep crevices in the thin face that could not hide its underlying beauty. Though Fiona was old and craggy, Julia saw that the Matriarch’s loveliness had not gone away, but merely pulled over the covers while it slept.

“Was I sick?” asked Julia, ignoring the introduction for the moment and laying her head back, slightly dizzy.

“No, not in the way you mean it. You were at the crossroads to which all Daughters eventually come... and you must either heal or die. Dramatic words.” Fiona smiled, but Julia could not tell if it was a smile of compassion or amusement. “In reality, it rarely comes to death, unless your gift has been totally hidden to you. Obviously, it hasn’t been hidden to you. Otherwise, you would not be here.”

Julia sighed, a sound of both disbelief and fatigue. “It sounds like cow dung to me, Fiona. What isn’t hidden is that I am thirsty. Is it possible to have some water, or have I grown beyond the need for that?” Julia intoned with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Not yet, Daughter,” smiled Fiona, “you jest... and I’ll simply say that for the time being, you still need physical elements to sustain you.”

Bringing a glass of water over to the bed, she held it to Julia’s lips and continued, “You are Chosen, Julia. You have played Goddess, but there is more to your pretense than simple games. Compared to many, you are Deity, but you have not seen your true potential. Things like food and water will become pleasant, but unnecessary as you grow. You are a being of energy, but your mind is still fused too strongly with your body.”

Oh, great. From ‘Doc Cock’ to ‘Ms. Mystic’. From one fucked up visionary to another... thought Julia.

Fiona’s face darkened slightly... Julia could not tell if it was a trick of the light or something more. “Now is that any way to think of your Hostess, Child? Perhaps you need a gentle reminder about courtesy. This time, it will be pleasant. Next time, we will see.” (Cum, Julia... until you find sleep again...) Fiona watched for another moment, and then turned and walked out of the room.

Julia watched quietly as the old, strange woman slipped out quietly. She had nearly laughed out loud at the power this old woman seemed to think she possessed, but she had seemed harmless enough. Holding in the laughter had made her tense her muscles... so hard that she had almost needed to double up under the covers.

But her ability to read what Julia had been thinking was unsettling. Was it telepathy, or just keen observation?

And then there was the unspoken command. If it had not been in her own voice, Julia would have sworn the old woman said it. She smiled again, laughing at her own love of drama. And besides, she wasn’t cumming. She had been “spooking” herself. It wasn’t the first time on this journey it had happened.

She began to giggle and hold herself again.

It had taken all of her recent kidnapper’s knowledge and devices to sway her, and even then it was only successful for a moment. So... it was ludicrous to think that she would be susceptible to some simple suggestion... she recognized it as well executed, and it was a nice diversion while she rested up from her fatigue, but it was what it was. Silly and ineffective.

Finally, she was able to relax and lay back. Funny—when she let loose her belly muscles, she did get a little twinge in her clit... but it was only for a second. It was followed, to her surprise, by another twinge, almost like a twitching nerve. She smiled again as the thought came to her that maybe this woman had some power after all. It might be nice... the twitch... oh... there again... did feel rather good.

Without warning, her clit sparked and shot a jolt of pleasure back to her anus. She furrowed her brow as she recovered from the sensation, only to have it happen again, adding her nipples to the chorus.

The twitches began to happen every second or two now, and she could feel it as it traveled her body... her clit, followed by tiny explosions of pleasure in her asshole and nipples, just as another jolt hit her clit. It began to increase in speed, like pulses moving through her from her pussy outward... and it just... felt... so... good.

Each jolt was growing in power... she felt them traveling up her neck into her brain... pleasure centers and conscious thought colliding... with pleasure winning the battle. By the time she realized that she might have underestimated the old crone, she was openly moaning, and one of her hands had been hijacked into running its fingers over her nipples, pulling and twisting, followed closely by her other hand falling to her swollen, slick button of lust, pinching and twisting in mirrored painful pleasure, taking her breath away as rational thought became impossible.

She moaned loudly again, causing her to lose more control. She knew now that this was beyond a simple suggestion, but her own sounds of passion were arousing her past being able to think beyond that one morsel of sexy, delectable... or rather... rational, fuck-me-silly... thought...

An image flashed in her brain... of herself, black short hair gelled and spiked, in crotchless latex pants and halter, her stiff, distended nipples pointing outward... as she kneeled before a woman, worshipping at the Holy Altar of Her Blessed Cunt... and looking up to see her own face... a face that transformed into the face of the old woman... but younger... irresistible... filled with insatiable lust...

She could feel that she was going to cum. Not just cum, but plunge into the most powerful orgasm of her existence. It was coming. Her writhing body and pleasure soaked flesh shouted for her to release... release... let go... and she could not help but surrender.

And then, it was on her.

She shook uncontrollably as her legs began to buck, tongue licking the air, her head flailing wildly, throwing off showers of sweat as she grunted primal, rhythmic utterances of pure fuck-heat. Her hands became a blur as she thrummed her clit, faster than seemed possible only moments before, her body heaving in abdominal contractions as she lost control and drool fell from her reddened, swollen lips.

On and on it carried her, past sanity and into a reality where only obedience to her lust ruled over her with a harsh, stiff, irresistible cat-o’-nine-tongues. Wave upon glorious burning wave ravaged her psyche, while she licked her juices from her fingers with crazed abandon, no longer caring, no longer needing anything but the everlasting truth of hedonistic conspiracy. She was both spectator and participant, both of her getting too turned on to care except that it never stop...

She slowly realized that it was tapering off... and just as she was beginning to find conscious thought again, her body was slammed with another, even more powerful wall of orgasm... smashing through her mind and body, her thrashing vessel of flesh moving as if by the grasp of an invisible hand... lasting longer than she could fathom, swelling deeper than she could conceive...

And then she came again, and deeper... and again, and deeper... and again, and deeper...

Julia’s first thought upon awakening was gratitude for the glass of water that was being held to her lips.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” asked Fiona, smiling gently.

Julia could only moan a weak, spent response.

“Much better, dear. We’re going to be very, very close for awhile...”