The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Story:

The house is only ten blocks away when I begin to feel the power coming from it.

It’s not the kind of power most people can feel, but I do and I know this is where the danger begins. If I can feel the house, the house can feel me.

It’s a five-story mansion covering almost an entire block in one of the richest parts of the city, right where no one would expect this kind of dark power.

The power slides down the streets like fog, like a faint voice hanging in the air and talking directly to the minds of people passing there saying one thing:

“Don’t mind about what happens in here. Everything is normal. Whatever you see, you won’t care.”

And then another voice:

“Don’t get close unless you have to.”

Most people won’t even hear those voices, but they still will listen and obey them. The streets are emptier than they should at this time of the day in this part of the city, and I wonder how many other crimes will happen here without people caring.

Whatever you see, you won’t care.

The power shimmering in the air around me could also work as an alarm to alert whoever is in that house that someone is approaching. If I can feel the power, the power can feel me, so I silence my thoughts and try to become invisible, and I walk like I don’t know where I’m going.

Don’t think about the house, Mike.

Don’t think at all.

Just don’t.

I wander down the streets like I’m not looking for what I’m looking for, pretending I’m a normal person in a normal place and not a scared guy, alone in an impossible rescue mission, a fly walking right in the middle of a spider web.

It feels like a trap, like a whirlpool that can swallow everything that passes next to it, and I’m walking right at the center of it.

I’m not here because I want to: I’m here because I have to.

Because nobody else will.

I’m here because in that house there is someone I have to rescue and one else will even try.

Here’s a not-so-unknown fact about superheroes: Most of them don’t care about you. Or about me. Or about most of the shit happening in a city. They will say they have bigger issues on their plate, but the truth is they all care about is how expensive their plates are and keeping their clout and good standing with the governments so they don’t get delicensed, and about having the best PR and brand they can.

They won’t care if you got mugged or killed in a dark alley unless they can stop it in front of some cameras, and that probably means they set the mugging up in the first place.

Oh, there are guys who will protect you in that case, but those are not superheroes: those are vigilantes, and to be honest they are just as likely to mug you themselves. And if a superhero intervenes, they would be more likely to beat the vigilante than to beat the mugger.

Bunch of territorial assholes.

Us? What are we? We’re not really vigilantes and not really heroes, more like aspiring… something. Me and Liz-zap and Black Whip and Avalanche and the rest of our team are trying to prove our worth as heroes, while believing we will be better than them if we eventually get approved are licensed. And I want to believe it with all my might, because being worse would be quite a feat.

All this just to explain why the house I’m getting close to has been undisturbed for so long: whatever is in it hasn’t made enough noise to get the real heroes interested and they would only do it if there’s something to win on it. If we’re trying our hand as heroes you may say the creature in that house is trying their hands as a villain.

That’s all we know: there is someone in that house who set up a web of power several blocks around to prevent anyone close from caring about the house.

Oh, and three months ago young men in that neighborhood began disappearing. It’s very subtle, very discreet, but we figured it out by comparing maps and dates and origins. Some guys just go out for a walk, cross there in the middle of the day… and they vanish from the face of Earth.

When we plotted the disappearances we found a circle and in the center of the circle we found the house, and around the house I found the web of power, which no one else could feel because telepathic powers are pretty rare.

And that’s all we know.

We couldn’t even get a hold of any of the big hero teams to get them to pay attention to it. Below their pay grade but at the same time above ours. We knew we didn’t have the capacity to face whatever was waiting there, so all we could do was sit on it like an egg and wait for it to get big enough to call the attention of someone who could do something real about it.

Until Jet disappeared.

We knew what happened to him. He told us. He had spent the last two months telling us that we should do something about that house, that we had to try to help those men that continued disappearing, but we never imagined that he would try to get in all by himself until one morning he’d left with a note in his bed saying he had to try and do something.

Our last ping on his cellphone was the cell tower two blocks from the house, and then nothing. One entire week of nothing.

And here I am now standing in front of the house. This is probably my last chance to go back and I know I won’t. I know what I’m doing is stupid and I know I shouldn’t be doing it.

I also know I have no choice. I can’t lose Jet.

I love him.

It was just so easy to fall in love with him, after he found me as a runaway on the streets and gave me a hot cup of coffee and took me to the team house. “We’re all your family now”, he said and he meant it, but for me it meant something more. It meant the warmth of his mind along with the warmth of the coffee and of the safe roof above my head, it meant being cared for, it meant being part of something. And Jet was with me every day, taking care of me.

Even if he was the same age I was, just nineteen, he felt bigger and stronger than me, he felt like a rock, like someone I could rely on, someone who made me feel protected.

It took me only a couple days to realize how special he was, how amazing and wonderful he was, and I fell in love with him, and he knew because there was no way I could hide it. He knew and he couldn’t do anything about it because he didn’t feel the same way about me. We talked about it once, we said everything that had to be said, and then I buried this love deep inside me and remained as only his best friend.

It’s been my own private pain for the year we’ve known each other, so private that not even he can see it. This is the one thing he doesn’t know, how much it hurt to see him chasing girls and knowing I could never get that kind of desire from him. And even if he can’t be mine, if he will never be, I can’t think about giving him up. I have to try to get him back even if I lose myself. Because I love him.

The lock is pretty easy to pick. I kinda expected it: you don’t even need locks when your safety depends on making everyone want to ignore you. And since the power makes everyone think everything is normal and I am at the very center of the power, no one even thinks about intervening in the couple minutes it takes me to pick it. I jiggle my pick, I press… and I’m in.

Now I’m in uncharted territory. I knew where the house was and I knew how to get there, but I don’t know what expects me inside.

I hope nothing, but I know I’m probably wrong.

I walk down a corridor and across a room and then hear steps coming from somewhere ahead of me and hide behind a large closet and peek.

A dude passes walking without haste. He’s almost naked, wearing only a red jockstrap and sandals, and he looks fucking fantastic. I hang out with low-level superheroes all the time and I can’t recall anyone having a body like that. He looks like a Greek statue.

He doesn’t notice me, and in a few seconds down the corridor he’s gone. I keep walking.

And keep walking.

And keep walking.

And…

…keep…

…walking.

This house is full of corridors. I walk down a corridor, and when I think it’s over I cross a door and I found another one. And they all look the same. Sometimes there are stairs going up and sometimes there are stairs going down, and I finally have to admit I don’t know where I am.

Unless “lost” is a place.

I find myself in front of a big wooden door. I don’t want to cross it. There is something behind it and I don’t want to find out what because I feel the power waiting on the other side. It’ better if I can find Jet and go out without getting there. I keep walking.

And keep walking.

And keep walking.

This house is like a labyrinth, or it’s bigger inside than outside. Could be both, I don’t know what I’m dealing with. Or could be even a portal to somewhere else: Maybe I’m not even on Earth anymore. But still, I keep walking.

I feel the house looming in my mind. There are no windows and there are no doors that go out. The way this is closed and the corridors twist together is creeping in my thoughts. I feel trapped. All doors simply lead to more house… except one.

And I find myself again in front of that door. And I turn away and walk.

And I return to it. And keep returning, no matter what direction and turns I take.

I try again. Last time I turned left, so now I turn right. I only take stairs that go down, I keep trying to go away, as far away as I can from it…

And I’m back at it again.

I forget what I came to do here, all I care is getting out. I need to escape and I can’t.

I feel like I’m in a web and whatever is behind that door is the spider, and I wonder if it already captured me and it’s just waiting to eat me. Still, I try again.

And return to that door.

I know I’m just bidding my time, if there is a way out it’s not on this side of the door and eventually I will have to cross it and face whatever is on the other side and maybe find a way out or make it… maybe I should do it.

I give myself three more tries.

Three: I find nothing new. I feel like I have already seen all these rooms. Maybe the problem is not that I can’t find a way out, maybe simply there isn’t one.

Two: Maybe there’s just one corridor looping on itself that will always take me back to where I started. Or maybe I can’t find a way out. Or maybe there isn’t one.

One:

One?

One.

Am I sure, one?

Yes, I counted.

Do I really have to?

I said three and made three. It’s time to face it.

But I don’t want it.

But there is no other way.

Am I sure? Maybe I should give it another try.

Except I already did that. I already gave it many another tries, why this one would be different?

But maybe.

What if I quit right before the attempt that would actually get me out?

One more time?

One more time.

Corridor.

Corridor.

Corri…

…door.

There’s no use on trying to escape, there is no escape. Let’s do it.

I open the door and find myself in a hall. I think that’s the word. The ceiling is high and the walls are further apart than two sides of an ocean and there is a giant seat at the center and a figure standing in front of it.

“Hello, young hero.”

He’s a tall man, dark, with eyes of steel and obsidian that seem to pierce right through what’s left of my mind. There is a feeling of power coming from him, a power that can’t be denied or resisted. I’m at the center of the web and I just found the spider.

“You are a strong one. I didn’t expect you to resist this long.” he says. His voice is like a black fog that drowns my thoughts. Whenever he speaks it’s like my brain can only process his words and nothing else, like he’s filling my awareness and leaving no space for anything that isn’t him. I fight against it with all my strength and it’s not enough. “Why are you here?”.

It feels like he already knows the answer but wants me to say it out loud.

Why did I come here? I have to think really hard about it until I manage to retrieve the answer from my mind. Jet. I came for Jet. I came looking for Jet to take him home.

“I’m here to rescue my friend.”

“Jet.” he says. It’s not a question.

Now I understand: While I was wandering in the corridors of the house he was exploring the corridors of my mind and finding out all about me, and I didn’t realize because I had closed my mind as much as I could.

I open my mind and I feel the web he spun around me, like a dark net of thoughts that are slowly trying to enter through the cracks of my mind, but I realize it may be too late: He already did a lot, everything that could be done without making me notice he was touching my mind, while I was distracted trying to find my way and getting lost in more ways than I knew. I already had lost the fight before I even crossed the door. And then he steps aside and shows a smaller figure that was waiting behind him.

It’s Jet.

He’s wearing a thong and a harness and boots all made from black leather, and a golden band around his head, and he’s the most beautiful and the most disturbing thing I’ve seen in my life.

“Jet?”

“Mike” he says looking at me.

“Jet. Jet.” I repeat. For a minute it’s like I forgot any other word, like all I can say is his name, but then I find my words back. “I came looking for you. I… I came to rescue you. Come with me.”

I know it’s an empty plea. I’m not even sure I can go away even alone, and probably I can’t take him away with me. I don’t dare looking at that man, but I know he would not allow it and right here at the center of his power he’s just too strong to resist.

“I can’t go.” He says. “I don’t want to go. I belong here. I belong with him. To him.” And he feels completely out of reach. He’s just one step away from me and I can’t touch him.

“No.” That’s all I can say. I had not expected that he would not want to be rescued. The darkness around my mind seems to grow thicker and stronger. I’m still under attack and fighting with all my might even if the despair is trying to crack me.

“But he’s taught me a lot about loving men. Before him I could never return your love, but if you stay… we can be together.”

My heart skips a beat. For half a second I forget how to breathe. He’s looking at me like he had never looked at me before, the way I had wanted and dreamed that he could look at me.

And my guards fall.

This is not something I was prepared for, a final assault for which I had no defence because I was attacked with the thing I want the most in life: Jet, by my side and together with me.

When the man who captured Jet surrounds my mind with his thoughts and power I can’t even try to resist. I just watch it happen like it’s happening to someone else. I watch how he removes and suppresses my will, how he redirects all my desires and love towards him, how he pushes aside any independent thought and creates a link with him that can’t be broken by anything.

I watch him, while he dismantles my mind and leaves behind an empty shell that then he fills with what he wants me to think and want.

I watch him as he turns me into his slave in the span of a couple seconds.

It’s the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.

I turn and look at my Master with tears in my eyes and struck at his beauty, at his power. How could I have resisted him? Why did I even try? Why did I fight against the gift of his control over me, why did I reject my submission? Why…?

He smiles. He knows what I’m feeling, and he knows because he created that feeling in me and all I can do is be thankful for it.

He closes the distance between us and kisses me, but when I try to return the kiss he just holds me in place forcefully. He’s kissing and I’m being kissed.

His hands take off my clothes with the assurance of someone who knows he’s taking what belongs to him. I try to help him but he just holds my hands down.

“I’m doing it.” he says plainly. No questions, no suggestions, he’s just telling me how it is. And this is how it is: Me standing in front of him, naked and ready to be taken by him. Ready to be used and completely under his control.

When he pushes me down on my knees and opens his robe to reveal his nude perfection I’ve already learned my lesson: He’s the one making things happen and my only role here is having things happen to me. He’s happening to me and all I can do is wait and take it.

I open up and let him fuck my mouth, because that’s what he wants. He smiles gain and nodes in approval, and I just keep kneeling, a throat that he can fuck for as long as he wants. His slave. His to do anything he wants.

“Good boy”.

I let things happen. He fucks my mouth for a long time while I just kneel there and take it. And then he makes me stand up and takes me to the seat.

His cock is hard and needs to fuck and he wants to fuck me. He doesn’t even need to say it, I know it through the link that connects our minds.

He lays on his back with his cock pointing straight up and I sit on top of it and in a single, slow movement, I sit down until it’s fully inside my ass.

It hurts, but I don’t care. All I can feel is his complete control and my absolute submission. He’s taking me the way he wants to and that’s the only thing that matters. He’s in control. He deserves to be in control. I don’t even deserve to submit to him and serve him but he gives me the privilege to do it. And he fucks me.

I can’t resist any longer. My cock is hard, so hard I can’t even feel it, and while I bounce up and down, fucking myself for his pleasure, it begins squirting and spraying his chest with my cum. But it’s not over. My orgasm is a sideshow, not even secondary here. What matters is him and his pleasure, and watching me cum just turns him on and he fucks me faster, faster, and then I can feel his cock shake inside me and his cum flowing inside my ass.

I feel on top of the world. My Master just fucked me and used me for his pleasure, he came inside me and I can feel his cum, marking me as his property and his slave forever. I can’t think. I don’t think. All I can do is feel him inside me, fucking me slowly while he recovers his breath.

He directs my head to his chest to clean him and other head joins me in the task. It’s Jet. Jet is helping me clean our Master and we’re kissing on top of him and right now I can’t even distinguish between my love for either of them, it’s all just the same to me. Me and Jet are joined by our link of love and submission to him.

Jet is kissing me, kissing me harder and deeper, he’s making me turn until I’m sitting on our Master’s lap and raising my legs and he’s naked and hard and ready to fuck me.

I’m getting fucked next to my Master by another one of his slaves and that’s almost as great as when he fucked me himself. I know we’re having sex for him and because he wants us to, and I love that. That cock going in and out my ass is the sign that he accepts me as his servant, that he takes my love and submission as his slave, the way things are meant to be for the rest of our lives.

Jet is panting on my ear, telling me how much he loves me, and I turn my head and kiss my Master and he fondles my nipples and it’s like my blood is on fire. I feel my Master and I feel Jet, both of them touching me, and it’s like Master is fucking me with Jet’s cock and in a single glorious moment I can’t distinguish between the three of us, while Jet shudders and cums in my ass.

I feel used.

I feel controlled.

I feel happier than I have ever felt in my life.

I turn my head again to kiss my Master and look at him in wonder. How could I have existed all my life without him, without belonging to him?

There is no way back from here. Jet was telling the truth: We belong here with him. To him. We’re not going anywhere.

At the end, the mission was successful. I just had to realize that I was trying to rescue the wrong person. I succeeded not thanks to me, but in spite of me.

Against my best efforts and beyond my wildest dreams, I was rescued.