The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ariadne moved quietly through the forest besides the beach, allowing the full moon to guide her way deeper down the coast. Branches snagged at her gown and scratched her legs as she pushed through the underbrush, yet she dared not use the path that led to the temple. If anyone saw her upon the path they would know her destination, and the shame would be too great to bear. Again she cursed herself and wondered why she was risking herself like this. Her husband was a good man from a decent family and was not so bad as many men from the villages; yet the dreams had called to her every night and Ariadne could stand it no more.

She’d been plagued with visions of a temple inside a cavern, hidden where the mountains met the turquoise sea, a place where the women gathered to worship their strange goddess and seek her blessing. Ariadne had heard the stories of what those strange women did at the gatherings and did not wish to dwell on it further, but she could not stop what the dreams showed her. They gave her visions of great orgies in the light of bonfires, women laying with women for the sinful pleasure of their goddess. Every night as Ariadne slept she was forced to witness acts of depravity and sensuality. She’d been raised a chaste woman and admitted that she lacked imagination, which was why she knew the sapphic visions must have come from somewhere outside of herself.

Now here she was, creeping through the night and seeking out those dark pleasures the seductive voice whispered of every night. Ariadne told herself that she merely wished to know that she wasn’t crazy, or to simply slake her curiosity of how these women made love with one another. Yet no matter what lies she told herself, Ariadne still knew the shameful truth. With each step through the woods her heart beat faster and the space between her legs grew slick with dew. In her head there still echoed the roars of passion she’d overheard in her dreams, and she wished to know if such pleasures were truly possible.

Alarmed, Ariadne froze as she realized the moans and joyous cries were not only in her mind. Carefully she crept closer and found the trees thinning, opening up to reveal the white sand beaches beyond. Firelight illuminated the coast as shadowed figures danced and whirled wildly before a large cavern, the dark entrance flanked by statues of naked women. Ariadne covered her mouth in shock as she quickly recognized the marble figures; she’d studied them intimately in her dreams as she tried to avert her eyes from the orgies around her.

Unlike in her dreams, there were no writhing piles of women rolling over the sand; instead the singing women danced in circles around the bonfires, tossing offerings into the rising flames for their lesbian goddess. Ariadne saw them bringing forth wreaths of flowers weaved together, clay statues, urns and plates of food which had been lovingly prepared. All of these were tossed into the flames to great cheers, and as Ariadne watched she noticed great pillars of black smoke rising from the pyres. Defying the wind blowing in from the sea the smoke twisted in the air and drew together like snakes coiling over one another.

The crashing smoke melted together into one mass that rose before the moon, and against it’s yellow light Ariadne swore she saw the smoke become the full figured body of a beautiful woman. The divine figure raised its arms high before it melted back into smoke, while the women below broke into a new song. As if signaled by the dark woman they all began to dance with one another, breaking into groups of two or more.

As the women turned from the flame Ariadne began to recognize some of the faces below. Young and old, poor and noble, so many of the women she had seen from her own villages or the towns along the coast. They did not speak, but only sang until their lips melted together into passionate embraces. Ariadne realized that the rhythm of the ritual was changing, and that soon they would descend into the hedonistic sex she had witnessed in her dreams. She had satisfied her curiosity, and knew she must flee before she risked being caught and exposed.

And yet, Ariadne remained behind the trees, holding herself tightly. Why was she staying to witness this? Why was she experiencing such intense need, like nothing she had ever felt for a man before? Even her husband—whom she loved—could not excite her so. What strange spell was this that made such an unnatural ritual so tempting?

While Ariadne clung to the tree and observed the passionate women on the beach she did not see the air twisting behind her, or notice the beautiful woman who appeared from nowhere. The voluptuous figure wore no clothing to hide her smooth, tanned skin, her silver hair cascading down her back. The strange woman broke into a childish grin, creeping forward until she was nearly upon Ariadne. Transfixed by the perverse scene below, Ariadne did not stir as the silver haired woman wrapped her arms around the villager’s waist, pressing her bountiful breasts against Ariadne’s back. Ariadne continued to watch the spectacle of the women on the beach, unable to feel the presence of the naked woman holding her.

“Mhm, sweet Ariadne, I was wondering when you’d finally accept my invitation.” The divine woman ran her fingers through Ariadne’s black hair and Ariadne felt her eyes flutter as she was suddenly hit with a flush of sensual heat. She shook her head in bewilderment while the naked woman laughed sweetly. “You like what you see, don’t you?”

Absently Ariadne nodded, unaware of what she had been asked.

“Then perhaps it is time for you to stop watching and join my followers.” As she continued to stroke Ariadne’s hair the strange woman’s eyes began to glow with soft violet light, imbuing her with power. On the beach the gathered women began to chant a single name, repeated over and over as they began to explore one another bodies, fingers and tongue entering sweet places. The name floated on the wind for Ariadne to hear.

“Cassandra… Cassandra… Cassandra…”

Oblivious to the silver haired woman caressing her Ariadne stared in wonder, imagining that this must have been their goddess. The one she had glimpsed in the smoke and who was sending her such temptations every night. Slowly her lips moved.

“Cassandra,” Ariadne whispered, and shivered. She could not see the purple light burning brightly behind her, the naked woman now filled with this supernatural power.

“I see what you desire,” Cassandra said playfully, running her fingers down to the girl’s chin. “Even if you will not admit it yourself. You want to know how sweet the nectar of another woman can be. To see them savor your own body with such loving reverence. And so I shall give you a gift, sweet Ariadne.”

Cassandra placed her thumb to the woman’s forehead and surged the purple light into her mind, coursing through her body. Ariadne cried out in bliss as she slipped to her knees, overcome with pleasure. It lasted several seconds before the light faded and she was left panting, shivering excitedly. What had come over her?

Something was different, as Ariadne felt her fear gone. When she lifted her head and saw the dancing cult below she only smiled eagerly. Whatever inhibitions had kept her restrained before had melted away, and now Ariadne leapt to her feet and ran across the beach. She cared not if anyone recognized her, or if her husband discovered her indiscretion. She simply had to know for herself what awaited her.

The many women were in different states of undress, but they parted to allow Ariadne through. Her eyes poured over their figures, suddenly able to witness the true beauty of their nakedness. Distracted by her growing arousal Ariadne was surprised to find herself standing before one of the bonfires, with the naked crowd staring at her expectantly. It was only then that she realized she had brought no offering for Cassandra. Would they turn her away? Surely they would not deny her a chance to join them in their worship.

Suddenly an idea popped into her mind, as if whispered to her by some mischievous voice, and Ariadne grinned with approval. With all eyes upon her she ripped off her dress and stood naked before them, noting the way the women grinned and leered at her breasts and her rear. Ariadne saw the desire in their eyes, and wanted nothing more than to grant them anything they wanted from her. She turned and without hesitation tossed her dress into the flames, an offering for Cassandra, and the women broke into delighted cheers.

As they grabbed her and pulled her down among them Ariadne knew that this meant she would return to the village naked. All would see her bare body returning down that shameful forest path and know where she had spent the night; but as the first fingers entered her slick mound and soft, feminine lips crashed upon her own Ariadne knew that she no longer cared. Instantly the attention from these strange women awoke in her passion as her husband never had, and never could. This was more divine than the dreams had even promised her.

Ariadne was clumsy as she groped for the other women, but they innocently laughed at her inexperience; without a word they set about instructing her, showing her how to use her tongue to bring pleasure, and the bliss she could receive from their mouths. As the first orgasm of many struck her Ariadne filled her lungs and shouted into the night sky the name of her new Goddess, accepting the wonderful Cassandra into her heart.

From within the smoke of the bonfires Cassandra watched them all, experiencing their pleasure as part of her own. The new woman Ariadne was enjoying herself, and Cassandra suspected she would return many times throughout her life. Some women came to worship her only once, while others spent their lives in devotion to her and pursued the love of only women. Cassandra accepted them all, happy to play her tricks to lure them in with their curiosity and dissatisfaction. It had been so for hundreds of years, and Cassandra knew that even though the mortal women aged the orgies would remain as immortal as her.

How could such a Goddess ever consider time her enemy? Cassandra never prepared for a time when the women would stop visiting the cavern, when her temple would fall into disrepair and the orgies came to an end. As the centuries wore on even the other gods and goddesses found themselves forgotten, entombed in legend; yet Cassandra had always hidden herself to the small coast to avoid retribution for her playful ways, and so she slipped from the minds of women entirely. After two thousand years there was not a single living soul who knew her name, no one to believe in her and lend her strength to exist. The lesbian goddess had been left behind by the world entirely.

Until the day came that a college professor stumbled upon the cavern and found the remains of her statues buried within.

Sara breathed in the salty wind coming off the Mediterranean Sea, staring out at the crystal blue water and marveling at the fact that she really was standing on the Greek coast. With sloping green mountains behind her and fine white sand under her feet she didn’t think the scenery could be any more perfect. To Sara it was almost beautiful enough to come right off of a postcard. She could have stood on the beach for hours just soaking in the sun, only the crate of cracked rocks she had cradled in her arms was really starting to get heavy and Sara forced herself to head back towards the small camp in front of the cavern.

She glanced over the shattered rocks in the box but they didn’t seem as though they contained any hidden symbols or glyphs. Still, Professor Isley had told her that a good archaeologist never excluded any possibilities without examining them fully, which roughly translated to checking every damn rock they found on the mountainside. Sara could hardly blame the professor for her excitement. The hidden cavern in the side of the mountain had been a goldmine of artifacts so far, and it really seemed as if they were the first ones to uncover the temple of some previously unknown Greek deity.

Sara couldn’t help but laugh at that. Sure, the mysterious goddess didn’t seem to be recorded in any of the history books, but probably for good reason. Out of all the carvings and urns they’d uncovered so far, it appeared as though the sole work of the nameless goddess was to transform unsuspecting women into horny lesbians, tempting wives to leave their husbands and come worship at her temple with massive orgies. Personally, Sara felt that the entire thing had to be nothing more than a practical joke some ancient Greek lesbians left behind by making up their own goddess, but the carbon dating proved that everything they found was just under three thousand years old; meaning that even if it was a joke it was an ancient one, and that would be good enough for a museum.

Suddenly her fingers slipped on the box and Sara just managed to catch it in time, having a mini-heart attack wondering what their teacher would say. “Can’t let any of these rocks go to waste,” she muttered to herself, trying to get a better grip. She saw how far away the tent seemed and shouted out “Hey Carol! Angela! Can somebody give me a hand here?”

To her frustration, no one answered and Sara resigned herself to lugging the heavy box back herself. There were usually a few hired locals to do the heavy lifting, but Professor Isley had sent them all home for the weekend, and since she was back in the nearest city arguing about permits, that left Sara alone in the camp with her classmates Carol and Angela. Sara grumbled in frustration, imagining just how much of the work she was going to have to do by herself.

Panting and sweating Sara finally stumbled into the tent, dropping the heavy box down on the nearest table. “Didn’t you girls hear me shouting?” she snapped irritably. Carol glanced up from her work at a nearby table, not even bothering to take her headphones off as she gave a polite wave and went back to cleaning off artifacts, seemingly oblivious to everything else around her. The petite Angela was pacing the tent, completely absorbed in her phone.

“Oh, hey Sara. Back with another batch of rocks?”

“Yeah, an incredibly heavy one.”

“Glad I didn’t have to carry it then,” Angela said with relief.

Sara grit her teeth and brushed her red hair out of her eyes. “Lucky you. Don’t you have artifacts you should be compiling?”

“I don’t see what the big deal about this stuff is anyway,” Angela groaned and put her phone away. Bitterly, she snatched up one of the small, stone artifacts and began casually tossing it from one hand to the other. “Just seems like some naked stone lady to me.”

“Careful with that!” Sara shouted as she snatched the stone idol from Angela’s hands. She quickly checked it for any new cracks or scratches, but thankfully it didn’t seem any more damaged than how they’d found it last week. With a sigh of relief, the redhead laid the statue carefully back on the desk. “What were you thinking, Angela? Professor Isley told us this statue is twenty four hundred years old!”

“Most of the crap in here is old as hell already,” Angela said dismissively. “It’s not like they’ll miss another ancient ash tray.” With her toy gone, the bored Angela hopped up onto one of the tables lining the tent, while Sara angrily started unpacking rocks from the crate, reminding herself that Angela was her friend.

She, Carol and Angela had all met the year before and hit it off pretty fast, at least as far as classmates went. Normally, Sara found that Angela was easy enough to get along with, but the blonde’s personality was a lot larger than her petite frame; instead her attitude was fitted to her enormous rack, which only seemed more exaggerated by Angela’s slim body. With bright blue eyes and crisp blonde hair, Angela had no trouble getting plenty of attention from the local Greek guys around the dig site, and though Angela didn’t see anything wrong with flirting relentlessly, the shorter girl never seemed to actually go out with any of them. It wasn’t that surprising to Sara, since Angela hardly ever dated back at home either.

“Do you know what would have happened if you’d broken this statue?” Sara planted her hands on her hips, determined not to give Angela a pass this time. She’d been a nuisance since the archaeological dig began and Sara wasn’t going to let her careless classmate ruin this chance for her. Across the tent Carol heard the shouting and finally took her headphones off, sensing another argument.

“Don’t get so high and mighty, Sara,” Carol said with a warning tone. “You’re only upset because if Angela broke the idol Professor Isley would fail us and it would tank your GPA.”

Sara huffed as her cheeks went red, clearly caught. “Well, my grades are still a valid concern too.”

Carol couldn’t help but laugh. It was easy to call Sara out on her attitude, but she was stuck in the same boat if Angela screwed something up. Carol stood up from her desk and dusted off her short skirt, turning her hazel eyes on Angela.

“Listen Angela, I know it’s been a long day, but we still have to take this seriously,” Carol said sweetly, hoping to take a nicer approach. “Just because you don’t need the help with your grades doesn’t mean you can slack off and throw us under the bus for it. We’ve only got a few days left to go, so can you try and be professional with the artifacts?”

“Or at least not break them on purpose,” Sara muttered bitterly, earning an elbow to the ribs from Carol.

Angela crossed her arms and pouted, but even when she felt like throwing a tantrum, she knew that her friends had a point. Originally she’d been just as excited for the chance to actually travel to Greece and help out on a real archaeological expedition with her friends; then the week before they left Angela was informed that she’d landed a cushy job as a pharmaceutical rep, even though they were still a month out from graduating. The second she found out she no longer needed a decent grade in their archeology class, Angela had started to completely slack off. What was supposed to be a serious excavation was now nothing more than an excuse for a Greek vacation to celebrate her new job.

Angela dropped her head in shame. “Sorry girls. I know you two are working hard and I’m just in the way. When I found out the trip was to Greece and you were both going I got so excited, I just had to sign up with y’all.” The short blonde blushed. “You all,” she quickly blurted out to cover herself.

Carol giggled, always finding it hilarious when Angela slipped up and let her Texas accent show. She’d worked hard to suppress it, but Angela didn’t seem capable of abandoning her Texas roots completely. Honestly, Carol thought it was adorable how embarrassed the curvy blonde would get after a slip-up; how her cheeks would go red and she’d duck her head down and bring her shoulders up, almost like she was trying to hide in her huge rack. It always melted Carol’s heart to see her so flustered.

“Is that so, Angela?” Carol asked teasingly, wanting to make her blush more. “I thought you just came along to sneak out to the beach and find all those crazy European parties.”

Angela shook her head, cheeks turning crimson. “I don’t know why you two keep thinking I’m some kind of party animal. Do I look like a slut to you or something?”

Sara and Carol exchanged a quick glance, then both spoke in unison. “Yes.”

“Oh screw you both,” Angela snapped using her full Texan accent, big and brash enough to have come from a surly ranchhand instead of a tiny blonde beauty. Naturally it set the other girls off laughing and even Angela allowed herself to laugh too.

“Fine, I’m sorry for being a nuisance. I know this is important to you girls, so I’ll try to do my best. Okay?”

Sara nodded. “Alright, I forgive you. And I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re only that prickly with everyone because you’re just itching for a fight.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sara muttered, tossing her long red ponytail over her shoulder as she carefully picked up the tiny statue to the Goddess.

“No, I think Angela’s got you there,” Carol chimed in. “Just be careful, Sara, because someday you might just find someone ready to put you in your place.”

Sara brushed them off and bent over the statue to work, trying not to let any emotion show on her face. She was already well aware that her personality rubbed people the wrong way, which was fine with her. What got under her skin though was Carol’s comment, the idea that she’d say some snide remark to the wrong person, someone dominant and powerful that would instantly punish her for being so disrespectful.

They wouldn’t care how she fought or complained as she was bent over and her skirt pulled up, smacking her ass hard and telling her this is what disrespectful girls deserved. Sara would writhe and curse and struggle and god she’d get so wet as they spanked her over and over, and when that dominant hand stopped slapping her ass to feel her soaked cunt they’d just laugh at how she got off on being punished. They’d tease her pussy and tell her to beg to get another slap, to beg her Mistress to punish her. Sara would be so humiliated and offended but still she’d start whimpering for the woman to do more, needing more, so much more, always wanted to feel it her entire life; to kneel and surrender everything to her Mistress as she was tied down, Mistress ready to torture and tease her for hours until she knew how utterly she was owned…

Sara snapped awake, realizing she’d almost completely drifted off into the fantasy. Blushing deeply, she carefully put the statue on the table, thankful it hadn’t slipped out of her fingers while she was daydreaming. She was normally able to hold the bondage fantasies at bay and managed to tell herself the fetish was just a passing fancy, yet ever since puberty the thought of being tied up had held a strange fascination for her. It had soured for her a little when she’d finally convinced an ex to tie her up, but he’d tied the rope into some sorry excuse for knots that barely held at all, and even his attempts to humiliate and tease her were half hearted. After breaking up with him Sara had promised herself to never consider the fetish again, but she knew it wasn’t bondage’s fault. She simply needed to find the right dominant hand to put her in line.

The fact that the dominant in the daydream had become a woman was certainly new. Sara had never even considered the idea of a woman dominating her, since most of the porn she found always had the girl bound and gagged and begging as the submissive. Sara’s eyes fell on the small form of the statue, displaying a naked and voluptuous woman. The odd fantasy must just be a result of hearing about this ancient Greek lesbian cult from Miss Isley and working with all of this stuff all day. Still, the image in her head of her on her knees, collared and staring up at the divine face of the woman, golden hair spilling over her shoulders and framing her massive breasts. How she’d stare up with devotion, whispering the word ‘Mistress.’

Sara shivered as warm waves of pleasure washed over her. “Yeah, I definitely need a break,” she said out loud, turning away from the statue. “Who wants to get some dinner?”

“I’ll go with you,” Carol announced, spinning on her heel and making her skirt flare up around her. “I guess we’ll lock everything up and head into town.”

“No, you girls go get the food,” Angela said as she worked at a computer, typing away. “I’ll stay here and work.”

Sara and Carol stared at Angela in disbelief.

“What? I feel bad for slacking, so I’ll try to make up for it.”

“If that’s the case, then your food’s on me,” Sara said with a wide grin. “As long as you don’t break anything while we’re gone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Angela replied with an exaggerated roll of her blue eyes.

Carol patted Sara on the shoulder. “Don’t be mean, Sara. She’ll do great.”

“Just for that, you’re paying for your own food,” Sara snapped, smiling.

“… Should have seen that coming.” Carol shook her head and followed Sara out the door. “Be back soon, Angela. Don’t burn the place down.”

Angela threw back a big laugh and flipped her off. The constant teasing was annoying, but she was big enough to know it was well deserved. Just because she had a nice job lined up didn’t mean she should slack off; that probably wasn’t the attitude big companies wanted in their employees anyhow. With the lab tent to herself, Angela went over and gingerly picked up the statue of the nude Goddess, carefully examining the little runes on its side that she was supposed to be translating. Going over Miss Isley’s notes, she found the corresponding characters, carefully mumbling the letters out one by one as she went. Scattered words that hardly made any sense, the phrase ‘it’s all Greek to me’ floated into her mind. She stopped as she finally understood one of the words; at least names stayed the same no matter what language you used.

“Cassandra,” the blonde said cautiously, staring into the eyes of the naked stone woman. “Was that your name?”

Carefully she started to turn the statue over to translate the other side, making extra certain to take the work seriously; if she screwed up now she’d never hear the end of it. Before she could react the statue leapt right out of her hands. Angela gasped and snatched for it, but the statue seemed to twist in the air and slip right past her fingers. The tiny woman crashed to the floor, instantly pulverized to dust and bits of stone no larger than a pile of pebbles.

Angela stared in horror at the gray patch of dirt and cursed loudly in a Texan drawl.

How the hell had that happened? Angela knew she’d handled the artifact properly; it was the artifact that had decided to dive bomb at the ground. She couldn’t be blamed for that, could she?

“God, Sara is really going to murder me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about your friend,” a voice suddenly said behind her, breath warm on Angela’s ear. The tiny girl spun in surprise, only to find that she was still alone in the tent.

“She seems cruel, but her heart secretly yearns to be dominated,” the alluring voice spoke up again, still only inches behind her. Angela spun yet again to see that the other half of the room was still empty. As the voice began to speak Angela kept spinning slowly, yet no matter where she moved, the voice constantly followed her like a ghost.

“Girls like Sara are so much fun. And Carol as well, such delicious thoughts she has hidden away. But I find you most intriguing of all, Angela.”

“Is that so?” Angela had stopped spinning and tried backing into the corner instead, barricading herself in.

“That’s right,” the divine voice whispered through the wall, only now the voice was joined by invisible hands that slid over Angela’s stomach, already inside her clothes. Those delicate fingers spread loving warmth over her skin, trailing up to massage her breasts. Angela couldn’t hold back the surprised moan that escaped her.

“I’ve seen your past, Angela. I’ve read your story and I feel sorry for you. So many failed relationships, never truly feeling like you were understood or accepted.”

“What—what do you know about that?”

The woman’s laugh was sweet and beautiful, a symphony to Angela’s ears. “I am a Goddess, dear. Though many flocked to worship me, only a few truly wished to understand me. Divinity can be more lonely than you imagine.”

“So you’re really that Goddess?” Angela said lamely, hardly knowing how to talk to a ghost in the best of circumstances, much less one that was feeling up her tits and doing a marvelous job of teasing her at that.

“Yes, I am Cassandra, beacon of feminine lust and love. And you desperately need my help, Angela. I see the truth and can share it with you. The reason you have never truly connected with a man is because you were not meant for them.”

“You’re saying if I was a lesbian, all of my problems would melt away?” Angela asked through gritted teeth, doing her best not to let out another moan of pleasure.

Cassandra giggled in her ear, fingers tracing small circles over Angela’s nipples that was starting to drive her wild. “Not that it shall solve all of your problems, but you can find happiness like never before. Simply let me in dear, and I can show you.”

Angela bit her lip, knowing that you were supposed to reject offers from strange voices, but honestly she had trouble thinking of a reason not to. The voice had been spot on about her failure of a love life. Every date she’d been on had gone wrong; nothing had ever seemed to work for her. Angela hissed in air and finally moaned as the Goddess continued to toy with her breasts. No man had ever made her feel this way, to be this excited this fast, so close to cumming simply from her tits. Was this truly what she’d always been missing?

“Let me in and you shall see, Angela.”

The tiny blonde whimpered in ecstasy as the orgasm struck quickly over her, swept up in pleasure she’d never felt before. She moaned as she came hard, and that guttural moan slowly turned into a single word.

“Yesssss.”

Cassandra smiled as she entered her willing vessel, bringing Angela’s orgasm to heights she’d never even dreamed possible. The blonde girl thrashed in the intense delight of the climax, her legs giving out as she fell to her ass. Gradually the pleasure faded and allowed Angela to relax, getting control of her body. A satisfied smile started to spread over her lips as her eyes began to glow with violet light, bright and powerful. Angela’s hands lifted up before those glowing eyes, her fingers twitching as if it had been thousands of years since she’d attempted to use them.

A smile curved over Angela’s lips. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to have my fun. Your friends are in for the night of their lives.”