The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’m monitoring Cindi’s dreams now more closely than ever. Her dreams are all gruesome nightmares. They are filled with Ares, towering over her, beating her, berating her, raping her, killing her.

Or at least they would be if I let them. I’m inserting myself as a seed in her dreams, towering over Ares, dragging him off of her, beating the crap out of him, throwing him around like a rag doll. Eventually her dreams settle down a bit. Her subconscious has accepted that I will protect her, waking evidence from last night notwithstanding.

We are spooning as she awakens. She begins to scream and thrash, visions of Ares filling her mind. I say, inside her head and into her ear at the same time, “Shhhhh. It’s okay. It’s me. You’re safe.”

Screams turn to sobs. She rolls over and hides her head in my chest. I wrap my other arm around her and say everything I can think of to comfort her: “he’s gone”, “he’ll never come back”, “it’s all over”, “I’m here”, “I’m not going anywhere”, “let it all out”. I hold her gently and kiss her tenderly.

She needs a savior. She needs a protector. I’m the one who made Ares go away. I’m still here. So I’m the one. A wise man once said, “Man is not a rational animal, he is a rationalizing animal”. No one knows that better than I do at this instant. I was the one who brought Ares to the penthouse. I was the one who allowed Ares to defile her emotionally and physically. She knows all that, and yet somehow I am still her hero, her rock, her shelter. I made him go away. I’m still here. I’m the one.

I can see that this new level of attachment will advance my plan in ways I couldn’t have imagined before. I should be dancing on the inside. But instead I’m consumed with guilt. I did this to her.

Yes, I waterboarded her too. But I was inside her head both times. Believe me, what I allowed Ares to do to her was much, much worse than that. I feel guilty, but I can’t be weak now. If she is going to bounce back from this in just another day, then I have to be the hero she needs me to be.

She has settled down some now, and remembers that she has responsibilities as my slave. As she tries to push away from me, I speak to her mind, «“Shhh. Not now. I know you love me. I know you are...grateful to me. I know you want to serve me. But you HAVE served well, very well. Serve me now by resting, by recovering your strength.“»

I seed the image of her, last night, kissing away my tears. «“I may need that strength again some time.“»

She snuggles back into me, thinking warm thoughts that I don’t deserve, planting soft kisses on my hairy chest as I hold her closer. We both stink of fear and exhaustion, but right now we are each other’s entire world.

She reaches down between my legs. I want to tell her, again, that she doesn’t owe me service right now, but looking into her head I see that that’s not the reason. She wants to get the slimy feeling of sexual submission to Ares out of her head. She thinks that sexual submission to me will help set her world on its axis again.

I find that I want to get the slimy feeling of her sexual submission to Ares out of my head too. Alright, let’s do this then. As I push her onto her back and move on top, she continues to hold my rigid member tightly, guiding my ship into her warm, welcoming harbor.

Her eyes are searching for something in mine. Love. She thinks she’s found it as I begin slowly moving inside her. Something inside me hopes she’s just fooling herself. Something inside me is afraid she isn’t.

It’s late afternoon. We’ve showered and fucked. We’ve brunched and fucked. We’ve talked, and then, for good measure, we fucked. Now she is in her happy place, lying atop me, breathing me in, drawing lazy circles on my hard chest and abs. I’m playing with her hair and kissing the top of her head. I think she’ll be okay. One more night watching her dreams to be sure, but that should do it.

The doorbell rings.

“My Lord?”

“I’m not expec—. It’s Fred and Julia. Go fetch a robe, Cindi. I’ll throw on some jeans and a t-shirt and be out in a sec.”

“A robe?”

“Just do it.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she says with a strange smile. It’s the first clothing, well, other than the big chef’s apron, that she has ever worn in the penthouse. Hell, in FALKIRK. (No, smart-ass, the shoes and the collar and the necklace don’t count.)

At the door, Cindi meets her friends with a big grin and a sweeping bow, “Welcome to My Lord’s abode, Sir and Madam.”

“Cor, luv, are you alright?” says Julia, embracing her immediately and tightly.

A single tear slides down Cindi’s cheek, “I am...I’m going to be.”

“Well, OI come bearing gifts.” Fred says with mock solemnity, crossing the threshold with two extra-large pizza boxes.

“Pizza delivery, now?” jokes Cindi with a wide grin, “That therapy practice not working out for you, big guy?” They really did do more than just fuck for two hours after that game of H-O-R-S-E the other day.

As I’m emerging from the bedroom the two women automatically turn to kneel, until I wave them off. Might as well get it all out in the open now. “To what do we owe this unexpected...pizza?”

Fred looks sheepish. “Just a bit concerned about Cindi...and you, Master.”

“And me.”

“And you.”

“Why don’t we take this outside? It’s nice today.” I say.

Julia and Fred exchange glances. Julia says, somewhat reluctantly, “Master, do you mind if Cindi and I eat inside? At the table?”

Fred wants to talk to me alone. ”sigh Fine.“

Julia slides off the top box and says over her shoulder, “C’mon, Cindi. Girl talk.”

Cindi looks at me, smirks and shoulder-shrugs and follows. I’m about to be probed and lectured by one of my slaves. It’s actually amusing in a way. “Well, Fred, let’s see what secrets you can pry out of this twelve-thousand-year-old mind.”

Fred is only 25, younger than Greg. And only a junior psychologist in his therapy/counselling practice. He would never have made my doctor’s “list” of top analysts, or Fenton’s for that matter. But there is no other trained therapist in easy reach who already knows about me and the Ten Thousand. Maybe something good will come of this. I can certainly cut it off anytime I want.

As Fred and I head outside I hear Julia raise her voice, “If you won’t sit in a chair and eat from a plate like a human being, I’m going to SCREAM!” In her head I tell Cindi it’s okay. They grab plates and sit at the table.

“So, Julia tells me last noight was a little...”

“Intense?”

“Horrific.”

“I see.”

“You apparently weren’t too happy about it yourself.”

“Oh? Can you read minds now, Doctor McKenna?“

A look of annoyance crosses his face. He has an M.S. in Psych, not an M.D. or Ph.D. He knows I’m just jerking his chain, so he continues, “Julia saw you palming the Tums...and...um...the croying was hard to miss.”

“Ah.”

“It’s just that none of us have ever seen you do anything...ANYTHING...that you didn’t want to do. You clearly didn’t want to do what you did last noight.“

“There’s a world of difference between wanting and needing.”

“What could possibly make you need to give one of us to that sadistic son of a bitch?” How quickly Cindi has become one of the Ten Thousand, even though she’s only sharing time in Annette’s body.

“I have enemies Fred, serious, deadly, powerful enemies. I’m playing a very dangerous game to turn the tables on them. Sometimes I have to do things that sicken me.”

“So is that the whole story behoind Cindi too? That you don’t want to treat her loike an animal, loike a whore, loike a harem slave, but you need to? Chroist, Master, if any of us treated our women loike that you’d have us in the dungeon in a heartbeat.“

Fred knows my dungeon. He saw the inside of it more than once as a teenager. “So is that the problem here, Fred? I don’t let you beat your wife enough?”

A wicked grin crosses Fred’s face. “Well, maybe sometimes. She can be a cheeky bitch...AND ROIGHT NOSEY TOO!”

Through Fred’s eyes I can see Julia staring out at us intently. Fred’s right; she’s actually trying to read our lips. She quickly turns back to Cindi, her face flushing bright red.

“But seriously. Does Cindi know that she’s a chess piece in this sick little game of yours?”

“It’s not sick.”

Fred gives me a look.

“Not any more sick than it has to be.”

The look again.

“Okay, I let something slip about a ‘plan’ once, but nothing more than that, no. Look, when the time comes, I’m going to need her reactions to be completely genuine, completely natural, completely...frankly...terrified. There are things she just can’t know.”

“Master, um, this is just a stupid oidea off the top of moy head. Julia tells me that you’ve had her playing at still being Majestic Woman for over a week, when just the thought of being Majestic Woman was making her break down and croy. Roight in front of Julia! Has she, ah, disappointed you any at that?”

“No, she’s been amazing, flawless. She knows she’s just wearing Majestic Woman like a shell, like makeup, but she has never missed a beat, well, not for more than an instant or two anyway.”

“So what makes you think that she can’t play ‘completely terrifoied’ as well as she plays ‘Majestic Woman’, especially with last noight to use as a benchmark?”

“What’s your point, Fred?”

“TELL HER! Tell her what the fuck is going on. Tell her what you need her to do. You know she loves you. You know she’ll do it, whatever it is,” the grin returns as he adds, “Boy the way, OI’d loike you to tell me too, but you don’t owe that to me. You do owe it to her, and OI think you know it.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, you moight want to tell her the rest.”

“The rest?” It has actually been a bit amusing to watch the play of emotions across his face, especially since I’ve known that what he is about to say is what he has really wanted to tell me all along.

Muttering, “How is it that the world’s only telepath can’t read his own moind?” Now normal, conversational, straining not to be condescending, “Master, Bloind Freddy can see that you’re in love with this girl. Why don’t you just tell her?”

“I’ll take your suggestions under advisement, Counsellor. Did you have anything else you wanted to get off of your chest?”

“No, OI guess that about covers it. Oh, OI’d appreciate a heads-up the next toime you plan to expose moy woife to a mad supervillain. That’s all then.”

“Okay, I can promise you that. Why don’t we invite the girls out here before Julia has an aneurysm?”

“Sounds foine to me.”

«“Cindi, Julia, come on out here, bring the rest of the pizza. It’s a beautiful evening. And bring a couple of bottles, a cork screw, and some glasses.“»

“$10 million is not enough, My Lord. You’ll have to charge at least $50 million to hook the fish you want.”

It’s later. Fred and Julia have gone home. The city skyline glitters around us. Cindi is wearing a mischievous grin. I’ve laid out the plan to her. I’m quite amazed. She has embraced it. She even has suggestions.

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to cut down on the number of takers?”

“No, My Lord, I’m sure it will still be quite awful. Men like that can be very...creative,” she says with surprising bravado, especially considering what she went through just last night. She really is heroic, even without the super-powers.

She pauses. Her tone changes, becomes more serious, “You’re certain that they’re evil.”

Ah, finally we get to the heart of the matter. “They held back the era of Greek genius for hundreds of years. Imagine Homer, Plato, Socrates, Pythagoras, Aristotle, Archimedes, all born 15 generations earlier, 20 generations earlier. Look at how everything flowered after I forced them into hiding.”

She’s still not convinced. Well, after all, as far as she knows they’ve only done good things for her. A different tack then, “Look, they enslaved thousands—I know, I know—but I mean truly, deeply enslaved with no will of their own at all. I, at least, give good lives to my herd, as much as I can. But your ‘Gods’ worked their slaves into early graves and then just enthralled more.

“They showed up in Greece suddenly and took over, claiming to be much more ancient and powerful than they really were. They started pointless wars, killed countless thousands, for no good reason that I can tell. Maybe it entertained them to watch people slaughter each other.”

“And they really look like this?” indicating my hand drawing.

“Yes, funny, isn’t it. But only for a second or two, then the glamour takes over and they look like, well, Greek Gods.”

“And everything they can do, you think that’s some kind of, of, technology?...My Lord?” Alarm flickers across her briefly. Now she is self-conscious that I will chastise her for saying “My Lord”.

A pained look does cross my face, but I hide it quickly. It’ll happen when it happens. “I didn’t used to. At the time I just thought it was magic. But none of the ‘Gifts of the Gods’, even those as amazing as your gifts, or Themiscyra’s, are any more amazing than the Uenan technologies or powers that the Magic Lamp Corps has brought to Earth.“

“So you think they are aliens—”

“Probably rogue aliens. And that other aliens have been searching for them for millennia.”

This is going to be hard, but I have to bring it up. “Ares...” She cringes involuntarily and starts to shiver.

I hold her tighter. “Shh, shh. Ares was a mistake. I needed him out of the way. I needed him neutralized. But I should have just killed him. It would have been much harder, much more difficult, to kill him than to do the awful thing that I did. But—”

Shivering still, she asks, “He’s never coming back?”

“He’s mad, so I can’t guarantee that he won’t try. I can guarantee that if he ever gets within a mile of you, within ten miles of you. I’ll kill him. I don’t think he’ll do that. He was on the verge of just letting go of everything ‘big’ and just becoming a much less harmful garden-variety sadist sociopath. He’s done that before. That’s why Scotland Yard never found Jack the Ripper. However, when you appeared on the scene, he decided he had to have you. Nothing else would do. It has something to do with the Amazons. Now that he has had you, seventy years later, he should be out of the picture. But I won’t take any chances. If he tries to come back, I’ll eliminate him. Even if I have to kill an innocent to do it.“

She feels safer, but that last bit disturbs her. She doesn’t want to think about that. She wants to change the subject. “And he’s not a God?”

“You’ve always suspected that, and you’re right. He’s a demigod, like Heracles, like Hades, like you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Kynthia of Themiscyra, Daughter of Heracles and Hippolyta. You are the last, or at least the most recent, of the demigods. A normal human given special powers by those twisted bastards. Usually they fuck with their minds too, but in your case there were too many people around for them to get away with that.”

She is lost in thought for a long, long time. It’s a lot to take in. “I still want to be with you. I still want to belong to you. I still want to be your slut, slave, fucktoy, pet—”

I put a finger to her lips. “I want that too. Or...something like that. I love you,” It’s not the first time I’ve said it tonight, but now my heart catches in my throat. I continue somewhat more hoarsely, “but you understand that it may not work out that way.”

Tears well in her eyes. “Yes, M—. Yes. I do.”

“So, let’s make the most of the time we have.”

A lascivious smirk lights up her face. It’s a strange juxtaposition with her still-flowing tears. “Yes. By all means. Let’s.”

I stand up. She takes my hand. We go inside.

“Oh, I think I’ve figured out a role for Blake in this mad scheme of yours.” She’s trying to protect her friend. She wants to give me a reason not to kill him. But this “role” she has in mind is still jumbled, not well-formed.

“So what can the Wraith do for our plan?”

“Let me think about it more, My L—... I’ll get back to you.”

We’re done with words for a while.