The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The curtain was black and thinly woven, letting in just enough sunlight to keep Delaney from tripping. Nearly a dozen dark figures knelt on the floor around her, and the girl weaved carefully among them as she made her way toward the bed. It was a worn and dirty cot, not suitable for sex or sleep, but it would serve its purpose. She crawled unto it and awaited further instructions.

“Undress,” a priestess commanded from the far side of the room. This one held a golden candle, while the shadowy figure beside her knelt with a bowl on her lap. Delaney did as she was told, of course, removing each item of clothing with the proper dignity and reverence for the temple. This was why she was allowed inside such a hallowed place, why she had been chosen for this honor. Delaney was a good girl, and only good girls were allowed to light Katira’s candle.

When her pretty blue panties had joined the pile, Delaney lay flat on her back, her legs spread. The priestess with the bowl leaned forward and placed it on the floor. One by one, the others dipped their hands inside, and then they approached the girl with dripping fingers.

Using Delaney’s body as a canvas, the priestesses applied vivid shades of paint with masterful precision. They painted roses across her perky breasts, honeysuckle vines down her long legs, and the most delicate lilies everywhere in between. If they felt any personal pride toward their art, the girl saw no sign of it.

Delaney had known what to expect, but it still felt strange to be rubbed and stroked like this. For a moment, she wondered if the priestesses enjoyed touching her most private of places, since they were allowed no other physical contact. Then she blushed in embarrassment, knowing that it was wrong to think such things. This was an act of devotion, not carnal desire.

Forcing a smile, she turned her thoughts to the people waiting outside. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“It will pass,” one of the priestesses whispered as she coiled a rose stem around Delaney’s nipple. “Katira will watch over you.”

The festival took place on the first day of every year, the same day that the goddess Katira freed Delaney’s people from their enslavement. Thousands of years had passed since then, and not even the priestesses could shed any light on their mysterious past. All that was known was that their freedom was a blessing, and that there was no greater cause for celebration.

Before the people feasted and danced, a ritual was performed to honor Katira. One girl was chosen to embody her spirit, so that the goddess could grace their festival with her presence. Tonight, Delaney and Katira would share the same flesh.

The moon shone gray in the evening sky. The eastern mountains stabbed through the clouds like grotesque black needles. Within the town of Providence, people held hands in the street and prayed. The ritual was almost at hand.

As everyone watched, Delaney slipped through the crack in the black curtain, holding the now lit candle to her breast. The girl was greeted by hundreds of smiling faces, and she grinned at her parents as she moved away from the temple. Everyone had already expressed to her how proud they were, and she could tell by the longing in their eyes just how beautiful she looked tonight.

Delaney wore a revealing dress formed from separate threads of silk, each attached to her skin by body paint. Colorful ribbons looped through her long, auburn hair and spilled down her back. She was radiant, and her eyes shined like never before. The priestess had been right. Her nervousness had passed, replaced by excitement and lust.

Always the good girl, Delaney had weathered eighteen years of chastity, and her reward was one night of unspeakable pleasures. Tonight, men would leave their wives and come to her. In some cases, women would even leave their husbands. It was rarely a sin to form a union with the goddess, and no one would be turned away from her bed. The boy who pleased Delaney the most would be rewarded with her hand in marriage.

The statue of Katira stood at the center of Providence, watching over the town through all seasons and trials. Katira was dressed the same as Delaney, but she was more gorgeous than the girl could ever hope to be. An offering of dried flowers and scented tree bark had been laid at her feet. Pretty teenage girls stood to the side, tempting the boys in their finest dresses, ready to add to the offering whenever necessary.

The townspeople followed Delaney to the statue, where she knelt in silent prayer. When she was finished, she held out the candle and took a deep breath. “Katira, give me strength.” Delaney held the flame to the offering, and it lit with mesmerizing pink fire.

As the crowd waited in anticipation, Delaney breathed in the colorful smoke. The fragrance was intoxicating, and she could feel the skin tingle all over her body. Someone was kissing her from the inside, loving and sensual at the same time. Delaney moaned in appreciation as pleasure erupted between her legs. Katira...my goddess...

Delaney felt intensely horny and full of life. She felt like she could make love hundreds of times without ever getting tired. Joining with Katira was everything that she had imagined and more. Slowly, she rose to her feet, thinking only of erotic pleasures. Tonight, her body belonged to Katira. Tonight, her body belonged to everyone.

A chill wind suddenly picked up, snuffing out the candle. Delaney hissed in surprise and turned toward the crowd. Their eyes were strange and distant, and she looked around in confusion.

A woman stood at the eastern edge of town, wearing a gown of crimson and black. Her hair was dark, her skin pale. Delaney shuddered as she resisted the urge to back away. Something very bad was about to happen. Run, Katira spoke in Delaney’s mind. Run while you still can.

One by one, the townspeople turned to face the strange woman. “All must serve the queen,” the mayor muttered, his voice different than usual.

“All must serve the queen,” Delaney’s father agreed, and then a pretty young woman followed suit. Soon it seemed that everyone was saying it. The attractive people from town started to undress, their motions robotic and yet somehow sensual. They kept repeating themselves even as dresses and pants fell at their feet.

Delaney shook her head in disbelief. “Stop. Stop it. What are you doing?” All of them ignored her, stripping down to underwear or teddies or nothing at all. Men stood naked and fully erect, chanting the same thing as everyone else. Then, slowly, they all began to march toward their queen.

The teenage girls passed Delaney in nothing but silky bras and panties, Katira’s offering forgotten. Their smiles were as erotic as they were wicked. Frantic, Delaney ran into the crowd and grabbed her naked mother by the arm. “Mom, wake up. This isn’t you.”

Mrs. Tierce’s eyes lit up, and she grinned seductively at her daughter. “All must serve the queen, Delaney. You must serve the queen. Follow your mother like a good girl.” She pulled away and continued her march, touching herself as she went. Delaney watched in horror, her heart pounding.

The wind played at the dark queen’s dress, kicking up tails of silk like dancing spider legs. Delaney caught glimpses of red and black lace, and part of her hungered for a taste. Run, Delaney. You can’t fight her. Katira’s voice was quieter this time, but the girl barely noticed.

The priestesses slowly emerged from Katira’s temple, their bodies and faces concealed by simple black robes and shrouds. Delaney pointed toward the dark queen, silently pleading for them to protect the townspeople, to confront the distant evil. If anyone knew how to fight the queen, it was them.

The strange look in their eyes stopped her cold. The priestesses stripped the shrouds from their faces, revealing wicked smiles. It was blasphemous for Delaney to gaze upon them like this, but she could not seem to help herself. Every last one of them was beautiful. Every last one of them had fallen under the dark queen’s spell. Delaney lusted after them even as they terrified her, and it made her feel dizzy and confused.

The priestesses’ robes fell to the ground, and they marched naked down the street. Their pale, curvaceous bodies moved in time with the chanting. Soon they began to chant themselves, devoted servants of a new faith. “All must serve the queen. All must serve the queen.”

All must serve the queen, Delaney thought with a wicked grin of her own, and she started to march after them. Everything made sense now. If the priestesses served the queen, then she was the goddess, and Delaney had to obey her. If the goddess was evil, then Delaney would be evil. “All must serve the queen,” she chanted in time with the others, touching herself as she stared at her beautiful queen.

Fight it, Delaney. Katira’s voice was fading fast, but it brought the girl somewhat back to reality. She’s tricking you. Fight it. After a moment, Delaney closed her eyes and forced herself to stop marching.

The queen was drawing her like a magnet now, and it sent ripples of dark pleasure through her body. “Katira, give me strength,” Delaney moaned as she fondled her breasts. The only answer came from the queen, and part of her wanted to listen. Part of her wanted to obey, even if it was wrong.

The offering was a smoldering pile at Katira’s feet. Women from town slipped off the last of their lingerie and knelt before their queen. Delaney fingered herself, struggling to resist a growing temptation. Katira, please give me strength.

In her mind, Delaney saw a castle carved by slaves in millennia past, a maze of tunnels and caverns lurking deep beneath the eastern mountains. The dark queen lounged on her throne in revealing lace and serrated black metal. She laughed coldly as those who once fled from her now danced and cavorted for her amusement. They were puppets on her string, sexual playthings and trained pets.

Priestesses patrolled the halls in black corsets and skintight black panties. Their luminous skin was always on display, their thoughts twisted by evil and bound by lust. The castle had become the only home that they could remember. The world beyond was merely a dream, the fancy of lunatics who now harkened to their mistress’s dark call.

Delaney knelt in a shadowy green cavern, wearing nothing but body paint. The roses had turned black, the vines on her legs an ominous red. Seductive pleasures coursed through her, and she stared helplessly up at a beautiful woman on a twisted black throne. All were born to serve the queen. Delaney was no different, just another pet on a leash.

The queen uttered a sinister laugh, her eyes dancing over soft, willing flesh. “Such a brash pet. I believe you’ll serve me as Katira once did. Arise, my jester, and seduce me with folly. If I find you amusing, I’ll take you into my bed.”

Delaney did as she was told, of course. The queen’s jester was an evil girl, and she would attend to her goddess until the end of time.

The moon shone gray in the night sky. Embers from Katira’s offering turned to ash. The people of Providence bowed before their dark queen, while her priestesses stood at attention.

A particularly sexy blonde was locked in an embrace with the queen, her naked body rocking wildly as dark pleasure poured through her. Once she had owned a flower shop, where she loved to chat with her customers. She had been warm and friendly, filled with the desire to help those less fortunate. Now she felt only evil and lust. Now she wanted only to obey.

Her eyes on the blonde, Delaney fingered herself to orgasm. It felt so wonderful, so deliciously evil, that she wanted to start all over again. She wanted to keep pleasuring herself until there was nothing left of her world, until darkness enveloped her in the grip of ecstasy. As much as she tried to fight it, Delaney longed to be a slave, and for everyone else to be a slave.

The queen’s time in Providence was almost at an end. Wearing nothing but sinful smiles, the priestesses formed a protective circle around her. Each was helplessly bound to the same commands that trumpeted in Delaney’s dizzy head. Katira was a traitor, a false god. The world had come full circle, and it was time for the old gods to rise. All must serve the queen. All must serve the queen.

With her last ounce of strength, Delaney turned and ran.