The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Section 3, Chapter 1 : Collector

Ghalitar entered the lowest level of his tower. Janet slunk behind him, thin red silk gown doing nothing to hide her body. It was a sign of her new station as slave, as was the thin silver collar about her neck, and the golden chain that lead from her throat to Ghalitar’s belt. She had proved most pleasurable, and so Ghalitar kept her. He had a hard time parting with things that brought him joy, or brought suffering to his enemies.

It was the latter item he’d collected, that brought him now to his basements. The previous evening’s emergency council meeting had convinced him that Zellandra had made an important discovery. He needed to step up his efforts; if she found the Ring before him, his plans would fail. So he’d have to get a little... assistance.

Ghalitar had three favors he could call in, but he would have to be careful. He jerked Janet’s chain, and she stumbled into the middle of a dusty circle. He placed the Hat upon her head, and lifted his fingers in a “V” and forced her eyelids shut. She quivered beneath her silk dress as he once more reasserted the spell of lust Alan had cast upon her.

Ghalitar ripped open her dress, and one hand pinned her arms above her head. She offered no resistance as his knees parted her thighs, her pussy already glistening wet. He gazed longingly upon that pink-petaled crevice, and kissed her roughly, leaning his body heavily against her soft curves. He briefly stroked his tongue within her mouth, growling the spell from his throat into hers, before dismounting her.

The dusty circle glowed red, and Ghalitar fled its confines before the spell completed. Janet was sealed within.

He took his seat in the dark corner of the room, and set the Hat upon the small stand beside him. His cock already thick with anticipation, he recited the words of summoning. A king’s pride, a wife’s infidelity, and an inventor’s ingenuity had given rise to this beast.

The Minotaur.

Nearly nine feet tall, body of a man, covered in thick brown fur, and topped by an enormous bull’s head with forward facing horns of wicked sharpness. Fingers like broomsticks, ending in rough dark nails. His eyes were bright red, and a golden ring pierced his nose. He wore a necklace of finely woven red silk, holding an evil rune of servitude cast in iron, tangled in the long curly hairs of his chest. He was bound to Ghalitar, but such binding came with perks that made slavehood tolerable.

His nostrils flared at the scent of woman-heat, and his thick leather loincloth was rapidly discarded. That gigantic veined organ throbbed violently, drooping slightly under its own weight. He took an ankle in each hand, and lifted her neatly off the floor. Ghalitar’s breath quickened. He never tired of this sight.

Her hair draping along the floor, still dangling upside down, drool sliding down her cheek to her forehead, Janet seemed completely oblivious. Oblivious until a battering ram of fourteen inches of thick heated bull dick slammed between her thighs, and then her eyes crossed in pain.

The lust spell broken, every guise of pleasure gone, Janet began to scream. His thumbs steady at her heels, his pinkies nearly touching her knees, his enormous fists held her steady as she struggled, weeping and screaming, to be free. He tugged her body up and down his shaft, her pussy stretched open, her wetness and now the blood of her torn insides offering only little relief.

She clawed futilely at his massive paws as he laid her on her back, his soft bovine snouth nuzzling her breasts, his long tongue tasting her nipples. She gnashed her teeth, his cock trying to pound its way into her womb, her face contorted in sheer agony.

He dismounted her, and gathered both ankles in his left hand, lifting her pussy to his lips, his long tongue sliding deep inside. Her feminine juices, her sweet blood, the sweat, the fear, the pain... he tasted it all as he drank of her.

His other hand gripped her hair, and forced her mouth around his glistening cock. It filled her mouth, and opened her jaw until she was sure she felt a tendon snap, and then there was nothing but juice. Thick salty bull-milk exploding in her mouth and throat, oozing steadily from her nostrils. From the burning in her chest, she could almost swear it filled her lungs as well. He went soft in her mouth, and she coughed his cum from her nose, struggling for breath, but he did not release her until he’d licked her cunt dry.

She tumbled to the floor like wet laundry, a pile of abused flesh. Her body was burning all over, and she wept softly as Ghalitar approached the beast, grinning.

“What is your wish, my Master?” Minotaur growled, his voice deep yet soft. Ghalitar did not speak until he had resecured Janet’s collar to his belt, and jerked her to a kneeling position at his side.

“I have an important assignment for you to undertake,” he grinned, pulling forth a scroll. “I need you to find this...”

Section 3, Chapter 2: Firestarter

Alan leaned against the wall, wearing nothing but the Ring and a smile. Gym had just let out, and the showers were filled. He’d slowed down time, and spent 40 minutes watching the girls soap up and wash themselves. He occasionally copped a feel, but he held out as long as possible before he singled out a girl to fuck.

The anticipation built up, and when the time came, his orgasm was unbelievable.

At first, he’d made the girls feel strong desire for him, but then their showering was like a bad 80s movie. It was more cheesy than a turn on. So now, he simply willed himself invisible.

Slender petite blonde with soapy A-cups, he’d already fucked her this week. The brunette with the bouncy C-cups, bent at the hips, shiny wet breasts swaying as she rubbed her toned legs cleaned... she’d been throat-deep on his dick just yesterday. Prom Queen Susan, platinum blonde with the almost-certainly surgically enhanced D-cups, huddled in the corner and knuckle deep in the head cheerleader’s cleanly shaved pussy—just as Alan had programmed her to—well, they were both supposed to come to his house tomorrow for a little threesome action.

So, that left May. Second place for homecoming, her fiery red curls plastered down her spine, her blue eyes closed as she rinsed the soap from her face. Her breasts jutted proudly into the air, tight pink nipples resting atop those round hand-and-a-half-fuls of perfection. Slender tummy giving way to long legs, her red pubic hair neatly trimmed into a landing strip. As she washed, her fingers dipped briefly to stroke at her moistening core as Alan turned up her lustful feelings.

Alan released his hold on time flow, and within minutes the majority of the girls were rinsed off, dried, and redressed. May and Susan’s finger puppet remained to finish up, and Alan approached the lovely redhead.

The fire alarm rang, and Alan cursed loudly. May spun around, and slid ungraciously to her knees as her orgasm overtook her. He snapped his fingers, and the Ring gave off a spark of energy as he teleported into the boy’s shower to get dressed. One of the new abilities he’d come to discover under the Ring’s tutelage.

<Hurry up and head up to the Science lab.> commanded the Ring, as Alan tugged his pants up over his bulging erection.

“Why? What’s going on?” Alan responded, slowing down the time flow and racing up to the lab.

Ever since he’d gotten the magical Ring, he’d started jogging every day. Having sex was no fun if you didn’t have the stamina to do it for long periods of time, he’d decided, so he’d started working out. The race to the other side of the school barely winded him.

<It’s no ordinary fire.> came the anxious reply.

When Alan entered the lab, he saw all the Bunsen burners turned to full, and six columns of flame curving like hungry snakes around a small girl. She was very petite, her body almost prepubescently slender. She wore a yellow t-shirt, with a white dress overtop; the top was like a pair of overalls, but ended in a short skirt rather than pants. She had half-moon earrings, which jingled softly against her long honey-blonde hair. Her eyes gave Alan a pause.

Her left eye was dark navy blue, and her thin cotton candy pink lips curled upward as he stared into her right eye.

It was dark yellow, a disturbing jaundiced color, surrounding a creamy white center. The opposite of an egg. Her pupil was a washed out grey, as if he gazed into a zombie’s eye. Her lips parted, and he staggered back at the sharp canines, extending almost to her lower lip; they were thin and long, like viper fangs. Around her neck was what appeared to be a tattoo of a serpent eating its own tail, drawn in sparkling gold ink.

She licked her lips playfully, and the flames died out, sucked from the burners into her flesh. Aside from the halo of heat distortion and the faint burnt-hair smell coming from her direction, she was unchanged by the flames.

<Stop her!> was all the Ring said, as she raised a hand in his direction. Alan reflexively squeezed time to a stop, but her delicate fingers continued to flex into some kind of symbol. He’d never had someone resist the time flow, and he froze like a deer in headlights. The Ring released a jolt of energy, and flung a desk into her line of fire.

An arc of flame erupted from her fingertips and incinerated the desk in an instant. She stomped her foot petulantly, and rushed at him. Well, she sluggishly moved at him in slow motion. Her body resisted but did not ignore the time freeze, and bought Alan a few precious seconds.

<Grab her throat! Steal her magic!> the Ring commanded, but Alan could not bring himself to strangle such a fragile looking thing. Even if she had just blasted fire at him.

Slowly, the girl reached up to her neck, and the golden tattoo extended like a thin stiletto dagger from her throat into her palm. Once her fingers closed around that delicate but deadly implement, her arm stabbed at him with great speed.

<Grab her wrist, don’t touch the gold!> the Ring screamed in his ear, and he dove behind the teacher’s desk. The arm and hand twisted and stabbed dexterously, but her body could not move her within attacking range. She moved even more slowly than before, the magical ink out of her skin and in her palm. Her free hand extended to shoot another cone of flame, as she stabbed herself in the throat to reabsorb the serpent tattoo.

Alan gazed into her eyes, trying to exert some control over her, but her lust was not for any man or woman, only for magic. He could not seduce her into obedience. Instead, he balled his Ring-hand into a fist, and enhanced his magic for a moment.

He unleashed a Stun command, dropping her to her back on the floor. She immediately tried to get up, and Alan was once again too confused to react.

<She is possessed by the Serpent Signa.> the Ring explained. <It’s like a spirit. It was created by magic, and used to enhance a magic-user’s powers. The Serpent Signa is an absorption spirit; that’s why she can’t be frozen, why she can’t be stunned. It’s absorbing a little bit of your magic as you use it against her.>

Alan growled, and as the flames shot from her fingers, he expended a little bit more magic to teleport to the other side of the room. The flames curled around where he had stood, and then retracted into her body. The Ring cursed as the girl turned to face him.

<Don’t look in her eyes, she -

The was a blurring of the world, and Alan felt as if his entire body were both soft as putty and clenched tight. Then searing pain shot up his arm.

- you idiot!>

Alan clutched the scorched flesh of his right hand. Absorption magic... the girl had absorbed his time stop magic, his stun magic, and, when he had dodged that last attack, his teleportation magic.

She had just used all three in conjunction to score a free hit on him. The Ring had repelled most of the attack, but it didn’t look good.

He glanced around quickly—they now stood in the football field, where the football team was frozen in mid-practice. The cheerleaders were in the process of forming a pyramid. He turned his attention back to the Signa-bearer.

She grinned wickedly at him, blew him a kiss, and then raised a hand above her head—a billowing cloud of flame gathered above her head. She tossed the beach ball sized fireball towards the varsity jocks, and then took off at slow jog, trying to break free of his time freeze.

“She may be immune, but that fire isn’t...” Alan reached out, grabbed the fire, and teleported it upward as far as he could. By the time he turned to face the Serpent, she was gone.

Alan ran to the sidelines, and collapsed behind the stands. Time resumed, his magic drained, and he cradled his burned arm. He passed out from the pain.

Section 3, Chapter 3: Gathering Forces

Ghalitar sat at the Council meeting, staring blankly into space, ignoring all the reports.

A monster on the loose? He’d discharged it.

Signa were active, and possessing humans again? He’d already contacted and made deals with two of them.

It wasn’t until word of the Enchanted Blade of Arshimal that Ghalitar turned and sat at attention.

The Sword was a powerful magical item. It could be compared to the Ring, but comparing the Sword to the Ring was like comparing the Sun to a candle. It was a true Artifact, the likes of which hadn’t been active in centuries.

The Sword could not miss its target; no amount of steel, stone, gem, or magic could protect the heart for which the Sword hungered. Once unsheathed, it could not be resheathed until it had taken a life. Every life taken by the sword was passed on to its wielder; if the wielder killed enough, he could become immortal. It amplified the wielder’s powers, physical and magical.

If the wielder was somehow slain in battle, the Sword would absorb every drop of energy—magic, body, and soul—and only grew stronger. The Sword possessed the power and knowledge of every person who had ever wielded it.

There was even talk of the Dragons awakening, but no one wanted to talk about that just yet. Ghalitar cared not for dragons; if they wanted sovereignty over land or man, that was fine with him. He’d stay holed up in his castle and spend the rest of his days with the Ring, the Staff, and his Hat, fucking Zellandra and any other girl he desired, magicing them to his bed. Dragons only cared for tribute and land, they would never miss a few girls.

He clenched his hands at his robes. IF... if he could get his hands on the Ring. If he could not obtain that, all was lost.

~ They disappeared, m’lord. After Serpent destroyed his home and part of his school, they both disappeared. Raven will continue to look for Serpent, but he said if you will help him locate Dove, that Serpent will come eagerly. ~

“If I could find Dove, I wouldn’t need Serpent,” he spat, rising from his seat and heading back to his laboratory. He had dealt with the Signa before; spirits who had never been mortal, they took great pleasure in possessing like-minded humans and enjoying all the pleasures the flesh had to offer. They were strong, and handy allies. Ghalitar liked most that they posed no threat to him. Much like a vampire into your home, a Signa had to be invited into your body; he had no intention of saying yes to such a union.

Ghalitar needed three Signa to complete his summoning ritual; Raven got along well with Ghalitar, for they both were possessed of darkest desires.

They entered Ghalitar’s lab, and he snapped his fingers as he kicked the door shut behind him. Janet sprung to her feet and hobbled quickly over to him. She was still sore from the Minotaur, but she did her best to please her Master. She reattached herself to his belt as he shed his robes. She lowered once more to her knees, and found his cock eager and stiff for her lips.

She first pushed his cock deep into her mouth, and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. He was not so much pleased from the sensation, but he did so love the hard wet gurgle of his cock pushing into her throat and choking her. She held him until her lungs burned for oxygen, then she withdrew, tears streaming down her face as she sucked in air through her nose. Her tongue worked diligently at the base of his head, and she gently milked the precum from his cock.

He began to squat, and she slid her legs under him, withdrawing his penis from her mouth. With one hand, she eased herself onto her back, her other gently pumping up and down his length. He straddled her stomach, and smirked. Her hands curved around her breasts, and squished his cock between them. He began to eagerly fuck her tits, his hands on her shoulders. Her tongue darted out to greet his head, and he groaned. She giggled and smiled up at him, and he nodded. She opened her mouth eagerly, and closed her eyes.

Ghalitar quickly hopped to his feet, and gripped the base of his cock. He unleashed a hot sticky tide upon her face, but it was not cum. He pissed violently on her face, filling her mouth and then aiming the heavy stream at her breasts. Her eyes shot open in surprise, but she had been his slave long enough to know better than to spit it out. Tearing up, she forced herself to swallow the bitter yellow fluid.

“You do not beg for my cum, you do not get my cum, you miserable slut,” he snarled, and went to take a shower.

Janet wept softly, curling up into a miserable ball. She could not beg, because the Minotaur’s violent face fucking and harsh cum had ruined her voice. She wished she could make him understand.

But it was she who did not understand; Ghalitar knew well her condition. He simply did not care.

In the shower, he jerked off vigorously, fantasizing about all these degrading things he would do to Zellandra, very soon.

Section 3, Chapter 4: Sanctuary