The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Camilla was horny as fuck.

When her friend invited her to a play party, she went all out. She edged herself for an hour the night of. She donned her best collar with the leash already attached. She brought her best perfume and clothes that didn’t leave much to the imagination. In her hand was a bag full of kink toys—wands, floggers, paddles, everything a hopeless submissive could want.

Camilla’s toys were all infused with magic. Being a sorcerer—all her kinky friends being sorcerers, too—really enhanced the fetish experience. With magic, the possibilities were endless. Especially with hypnotic magic. That, Camilla mastered long ago. The problem was she didn’t want to hypnotize anyone. She wanted to be hypnotized.

She prepared all this. All in hopes of finding her Domme. Her perfect match. Camilla wanted nothing more than to be owned. She had a taste of it for a few months, but that relationship ended, much to her heartbreak. Since then, she craved that feeling. She chased it.

And that desire led her here. Hiding in the corner of the party, too shy to start up a conversation. Hoping that one of the hot tall ladies in dominatrix outfits would catch her. Camilla couldn’t tell if she was socially anxious, or just wanted to be chased like prey.

Eventually, she got her chance.

Camilla felt her head suddenly turned to the side. A strong, demanding finger grabbed hold of her chin and tilted it—making Camilla whip around in surprise, too. Camilla gulped as she met eyes with the lady in front of her.

“Hello, cutie,” she whispered. Her voice was just barely audible over the sounds of the party, and Camilla already fell in love with it. Her voice, and her figure—she had the body of a goddess. An evil, dominating goddess. “What are you doing here, stuck in the corner?”

“U-uh,” Camilla tried to form words. It was hard, she was so fucking gay. “I’m just... seeing if I know anyone, because I, um, I’m new, and I’ve never been to a party, and...” Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, “you’re really, really pretty.” Goddamn it.

“Aw, thank you, dear,” the Domme cooed. “My name is Justine. And yours?”

“Camilla,” she responded meekly. “I-I’m a sub. And you are...”

“A Domme,” she interrupted. “You can call me Mistress Justine.”

“Mistress Justine,” Camilla whimpered. “Of course. Um, yes, Mistress.”

Justine graciously traced her finger down Camilla’s face. Her neck. Her shoulders. Barely reaching her chest. “My magic specializes in sigils,” Justine explained seemingly out of nowhere. “Symbols, drawn on things or... subjects. Magic that influences them. Have you heard of that?”

“I... n-no,” Camilla admitted. It sounded really hot, though.

“Well,” Justine’s lips curled into a vicious smirk, “would you like to try?”

Any rational person would say no. But Camilla was not rational. She was a thirsty sub, craving exactly this powerless, hopeless feeling. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Then why don’t I do...” Justine took time to pick her words. “A hypnotizing sigil.”

“Yes, please, Mistress!” Camilla couldn’t help the begging tone in her voice.

Justine smirked. “You don’t even want to know what kind of hypnosis?”

Camilla, very stupidly, shook her head. “No, Mistress.”

“My, how eager.” Justine began expertfully tracing. “I’ve never met someone quite this... uselessly submissive.” Camilla felt chills down her spine, tingles in her crotch, at the word ‘useless’. She tried to hold back a small moan.

“I haven’t even done anything to you,” Justine kept tracing, “and you’re already moaning and squirming like a stupid slut.” The sigil looked more and more complete by the stroke. Camilla could already feel something in her changing. Was it a good change? A welcome one? She couldn’t tell quite yet. “You’d just let a hot lady do whatever she wanted with you. Wouldn’t you?” Camilla moaned once more, and nodded.

Camilla felt her blood boiling. What was this feeling? It was different from her usual feelings of joyful, mindless obedience. It was like she... wanted to run. No. She wanted to fight. Adrenaline rushed through her brain, her neurons making connections.

“Well,” Justine murmured. “I can’t lie.”

She finished the sigil, tattooing it into Camilla.

“I want that, too.”

“H-huh?” Camilla blinked hard. Before she could ask anymore half-questions, Justine grabbed onto her collar and pulled Camilla along. The ravenous kinkster soon found herself in a closed room, the lock clicking behind the two.

Justine sat on the bed, and lied down, much in a way Camilla would in her scenes. “Drop the Mistress,” Justine ordered, “and take my body for yourself.”

“What...” Camilla couldn’t stop her body moving. She involuntarily climbed on top of Justine. Her vision changed. She saw red. She saw prey in Justine. Why? This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. “What did you do...” Camilla’s hand began sliding down to Justine’s crotch. “To me?”

Justine sighed happily as Camilla began fingering her at an increasing speed. “Even Dommes want their time off, you know.”

Camilla couldn’t ask questions; she let Justine explain as her fingers fucked the Domme mercilessly. Camilla bucked her hips back and forth. In need. All her body and mind could focus on was dominating Justine.

Justine grunted and moaned. “Y-yes, please, go faster,” she begged. Camilla complied. “Being owned is... a good feeling,” she said. “Soon, you’re going to want to own me.”

“N-no,” Camilla murmured. “I want... to be owned...”

“Well,” Justine grinned sadistically, despite her position. “You are. You’re just fulfilling what I want. Aren’t you?”

Justine wasn’t wrong. Camilla was doing exactly what was told of her—magically told. Camilla couldn’t control her body; all she could think about was sex. Dominance. Taking control. Taking advantage. She stayed attached to Justine’s body like a virus, unable to do anything but fuck her supposed Domme.

“Isn’t this nice,” Justine cooed. Camilla could tell from the tone of her voice that she was getting close to the edge. No, no that should have been Camilla’s moment, right? “It’s good to relax. Submit. Do as told. That’s why you’re such a sub, right?”

Camilla grunted. She was having enough. Her mind slowly twisted from wanting nothing more than submission to wanting Justine all for herself. “Shut… up…” she murmured under her breath.

Justine gasped. Camilla couldn’t tell if that was a gasp of pleasant bewilderment or genuine shock. “W-what?”

”I said shut up, slut!” Camilla grunted. Her fingers picked up in speed, moving at a lightning pace. Justine’s body froze, convulsing along to Camilla’s motions. “Whoever said you were the one in charge? When you’re the one who made me do this to you?”

“I-I—“ Camilla bulldozed over Justine’s whimpering.

“You need a punishment,” Camilla hissed. Her words were colored by the sigil’s power, too. Her fingers released Justine. Justine groaned, being denied pleasure atoms before the peak. Camilla grabbed her bag that had been lazily tossed to the floor, and pulled out her favorite—and largest—strap on.

She buckled it on herself quickly. Justine laid there, panting, whimpering, just waiting for what Camilla was going to do next. Camilla got back on top of Justine, and aimed the strap on.

“Wa-wait—“ Camilla didn’t wait. She pushed the strap all the way into Justine, nearly breaking her in half. Why should she have? Justine was hers. She could do whatever she wanted with Justine. The only thing that was missing was Justine’s mind being twisted as well.

Camilla could fix that.

She placed her hands to Justine’s ears.

“Plaything?” Camilla purred.

“Y-yes, Mistress?”

Camilla’s eyes flashed with a million collars, spirals forming in them. Justine’s eyes were transfixed, and she quickly got lost in Camilla’s hypnosis.

“Say goodbye to free will,” she said, “and say hello to mindless obedience.”

Justine sighed happily, in a trancey, blissful voice. “Yes… Mistress…”