The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When I came to my body was changed. I’d expected that. I’d hoped for that. My hair was longer now. So much longer. Instead of the dull, boring dirty blonde it was again the long red that I’d shaped it to be so many long years ago. All of my tan lines were gone like I’d spent an entire summer learning how to do as a young teenager. My skin was pale and milky without a single mark.

I looked almost unreal.

I also looked over twenty years younger. Still every bit a woman, but newly so. My heavy breasts swung under me. My sister’s legs were crossed on my back.

My first thought had been that she’d made me into her ottoman’s likeness before I remembered this was how I’d made myself look all on my own. Our magic had manifested at the same time, and I had spent so much time sculpting my body to what I considered perfection.

Alana had sat back and watched, waiting for me to let down my guard as she practiced using her magic on her “friends.”

I’d never suspected a thing. She was always a bit… adoring… but I hadn’t minded that. She was the younger twin. A part of me took her submissive idolizing behavior as logical. When I made myself beautiful it felt only natural for her to worship my beauty as the perfection that it was. I’d even played with the idea of seducing her.

Not with my magic, of course. I would just sneak into her room late one night, curl into the bed behind her, rub my hands along her body, and nibble at the right places while whispering into her ear. There had seemed no way she wouldn’t melt and do whatever I asked of her.

Then I woke up with her hand between my legs.

“Woke up” might be the wrong way to phrase it. Returning to consciousness with that much raw magic between my legs alone was the most disorienting feeling I’d ever had in my life. Her fingers were buried so deep, and her magic tingled and vibrated better than anything I’d ever felt before. I’d made love to men, women, magical and otherwise. Nothing that any of them had ever one held a candle to my little sister’s fingers.

I came before my first scream finished shuddering from my throat.

I came again before I realized that I wasn’t dreaming.

We hadn’t been teenagers anymore. We hadn’t even been young women. We’d shared a home because my little sister couldn’t bear to be parted from me and two powerful sorceresses were safer together than one. Our parents had been mundane. Ordinary.

What happened to them after we left… I never thought about twice. It had just seemed so natural to live with my younger sister. My twin. We shared everything. She watched me reshape my body to help me get it just so. I’d never imagined that she had been lusting after me in silence for years. By the time I was keenly aware she was filling my mind.

And that was just the first time.

She didn’t make me forget. She didn’t need to. I was every bit the vain hedonist that she’d wanted me to be. Knowing that only she could make me feel that good had assured her my loyalty as much as the things she’d hidden away in my mind for me to find later.

So we lived together for so long. We lived together when I started to mingle more with other sorceresses. We lived together while I had my fling with Shisho. There was no need for her to be jealous. As much as I was eager and hungry to give the enigmatic woman all of the experiences she craved while taking them for myself Alana knew who I came home to each and every night.

And every night her fingers found their way between my legs, and her fingers through my hair. She would thrust her fingers so deep and pull my hair so tight that all I could do was scream and buck. Sometimes my tongue would end up between her legs. Others she would take her time nibbling and suckling over my perfect body while I groaned in melted bliss.

I was her lover. I was her doll. I was her sister.

Somehow that only made it better for me. Even when she left her hair the same golden brown we’d both been born with. Even when she decided to make her breasts remain small but not need to be bothered by things like how little we looked like twins. No one thought we were.

Only Shisho ever knew. By the time that Alana took an interest in sorceresses for anything besides new ways to learn magic to use on her big sister she’d had me using a new surname. The magic community wasn’t very big on caring about ‘genuine’ identities—only consistent ones. Debauchery was common amongst sorceresses, and I took advantage of so many of them as my sister drove my lusts higher and higher.

She made me seek out so much to sate my need, but only she could satisfy me. Only my own twin sister could make me scream the way that I needed to scream. She made me never stop trying and I thanked her for it. I never questioned it. I never dreamed of making it stop.

Eventually even Shisho learned all she could and went on to ‘observe’ with others. Looking back I imagine she chose me because her interference couldn’t change the path I was on. I didn’t care if she used forbidden magic back when things like forbidden actually mattered. I’d begged her to teach me so I could use them to find an even greater sexual high. She’d refused, and used them in my stead.

It had been close enough for me to keep her secret. She’d known that it would be. It was so.

Her magic was how I finally saw what my sister was doing to me. Not intentionally, of course. Shisho was as dedicated to noninterference then as she continued to be. She’d lacked the practice, but I think I was her last mistake. She’d practiced in front of me, and I learned to work just enough of that forbidden magic to sate my curiosity.

That my sister and I shared a bed was not a surprise to me. By then we had been sharing so much more so very openly for so very long. The mundane can find ways to stay young far beyond their time. The magical have that as their birthright. What surprised me was that I recognized the magic my sister was using, because by then she’d let me see that her “friends” were little more than pets. Some were more free ranged than others, but in the end they were her slaves.

I saw her making me a slave again, and again, and again. As I watched it, I masturbated. Shisho watched me. Perhaps that was part of the mystery that she couldn’t solve. Why did I do it? Why would I let her watch myself lose all of my composure to the sight of my sister fucking my mind?

When she asked then I hadn’t been able to tell her. As I said though, I was still with my sister after Shisho’s departure. Knowing that she had me on a leash didn’t make me want to flee. With her I was beautiful and fulfilled.

She treated me different than her pets. It was easy for me to explain to myself that I’d masturbated to the fantasy of what she wasn’t but could be doing to my mind. She could have been making me worship her like a goddess, or cater to her every whim. When instead she played the act of the adoring sister who was only trying to make her older twin fulfilled and happy it was so hard to believe that she was subverting me to her will.

Then I started wondering why I’d chosen red hair.

I loved my twin sister. When we were younger, I’d loved how identical we looked. The same eyes. The same hair. Even before things went so wrong between us she doted on me in the form of humoring my desire to dress the same so many times, or to take on new ways of speaking. New gestures.

We’d been inseparable, and I’d enjoyed us being indecipherably the same.

The more I examined the changes I’d made to myself, with my own magic, the harder it was to be certain that I’d decided to be the lustful hedonist myself. It was harder to be certain that it was a coincidence she’d snuck into my bed when I’d been dreaming of sneaking into hers.

It was just too perfect.

So I started spending time without Alana. It was hard, physically painful at times, but I found the willpower. I seduced sorceresses and mundane women alike. Somewhere along the way Alana had decided that having a taste for men got in the way of what she wanted from me. Even realizing that it wasn’t something I could fight. It was a part of me. It was my identity. I accepted it, and used how easy it was to go from bed to bed with my perfect body to keep me away from her.

But I couldn’t hide from her. I couldn’t hide. Being seen, being experienced, was what I craved. I couldn’t do that from hiding. I didn’t want to learn how to try.

That was when I found myself at a sorceress’s home that she’d gotten to first. She’d seemed perfectly normal. She hadn’t tasted of my sister’s magic. Of course I hadn’t been thinking to smell for it, to taste the air, to taste her for signs of more subtle corruption. I had been so sure that my brilliant plan was working. I had escaped whatever twisted things my sister was doing to me. I was free. I had to be, didn’t I? Otherwise I would have crawled back.

Then she was there, and I almost fell to my knees at her feet. I wanted to. Memories rushed back of the way that only she could make me feel. My pussy remembered my twin’s touch. My mind remembered how easily it had yielded so many times.

My magic remembered hers.

She’d pointed down, and so I had fallen to my knees. Without it being my decision to make it was so much easier to give in to what she’d made me want. It had been so easy to want what she had made me want. I had been about to cum from kneeling alone, and then she’d pulled my hair.

Just like she would another twenty years later, she pulled my hair. She leaned in close, and whispered into my ear. I longed for her fingers to be lost deep between my legs, but they wouldn’t. Instead, she told me that she figured out I was trying to resist her.

She told me that I could either run, escape, hide so well that she could never find me, or that next time she was going to stop watching me fuck other women in an attempt to satisfy the slut she’d made me. She was going to finally stop playing around and make me her toy, just like those other women that she kept as friends… only I was special. I was her sister. She wanted me more than them. I was her twin.

What made my little sister have such a preoccupation with me I’ll never know. It was nothing that I did. I hadn’t been sneaking into her bed like my daydreams so often tempted me to do. She’d come to me. She’d been the one to make me into what she wanted.

That whole night was spent keeping me on edge. I came from her mundane touch, from familiar cruelties and pleasures, but she didn’t give me what I needed. After so long, I still needed her magic between my legs to feel whole in the way that she could make me feel. I begged for it. I pleaded for it. I screamed for it.

When she left the next morning I ran. I ran as far as I could. I hid using the magic I’d watched her use to make people forget they’d ever seen me. I weaved spells of my own to make it so my face was literally impossible to remember. Over time I began to weave myself simpler, less breathtaking physiques. I let myself age.

The more I blended in, the more I hid myself away, the more it was impossible to sate the urges that burned and yearned inside of me. All I needed to do was find someone, anyone, but I knew they couldn’t make me feel like my sister made me feel.

None of them could use their magic like she could. Even if they could, I could never be sure that they weren’t somehow a woman that she had conquered now that I knew sorceresses were fair game for her.

So I hid.

And for what? My mind? As time went on it became harder and harder to convince myself that making choices for myself, being my own woman, was more important than the fulfillment she could bring me. I struggled to tell myself that I had to keep moving, had to keep improving my magic to be less and less noticeable. I had to make my magic so subtle that even I couldn’t detect it.

Otherwise she would find me, carry out her promise, and then I’d be at her mercy for the rest of my life. I’d learned about the magic she’d used on me, and couldn’t be certain that there was any way to undo the years of manipulation. I’d only gotten away because she hadn’t felt the need to make herself inescapable.

There hadn’t been a reason. I’d loved every moment of it. But even the lustful hedonist had to admit she was sure that she hadn’t made an important choice for herself since she and her sister had discovered their magic.

Shisho found it easy to float.

I found bodycrafting easy as folding a paper airplane.

Alana molded minds like clay pots and glazed them in erotic obedience. Between the three of us, her gift might have been the most powerful.

But there I was. Kneeling like her displaced ottoman. She’d made her new slaves look just like she’d made me make myself look. It must have taken her so long. She’d started her gravity defying breasts, but it had taken my help to make them just the way she wanted them. Without me, her friends must have taken so long to perfect.

I was certain I’d been made to help put myself back the way she liked me. But I’d come back, mocked her after spending so long as her helpless slave, and then willingly fell to my knees. I’d given her what she’d threatened to take. There had been no struggle.

She’d longed for that. It had been in her eyes. Written across her face. She hadn’t punished me with cruel lashes or some impossibly painful bondage. Instead she still hadn’t really used her magic. My mind was still dazed with her presence, but she hadn’t used her magic where I needed it: between my legs. I needed her to fuck me with her magic, and she hadn’t. I’d denied her a true victory over me, so even if I’d gotten to cum it was only slightly more satisfying than the ones I’d learned to give myself.

To think that before I left it had been so long since I’d masturbated. I’d been so out of practice when I first left. Before I’d fallen at her knees I considered myself a pro. But it hadn’t been enough.

None of it had been enough.

There was only one way that I could get enough, and I wasn’t going to hold back. She had promised that she wouldn’t if I came back. Her magic was tight like steel chains around my mind.

Mine was like water. Bland. Translucent. Forgettable.

Alana spoke with her people and ordered them to tighten security. She threatened to fire them in droves, but only after the next mistake. “For now,” she assured them over the speakerphone, “I’ll forgive you. However, I’ve been training all of you far too long to accept this twice. You’re going to tighten security, install those new wards that I ordered, and if you so much as think that the building isn’t secure from any and all intruders you will tell me so it can be rectified before another sorceress finds her way in to my chambers!”

The voice on the other side was cut off before it could reply. Alana sighed a happy sigh. I smiled, and wiggled my hips without disturbing her legs. My pussy was running slickly down my thighs. It felt good to be kneeling for her and feeling her magic so close to me.

Ecstasy never felt so good.

“Now that all of that is done with, sister… Don’t you think it’s time that we took some time making up for it? I let you get away for so long. Inexcusable. Shall we get started making sure you never can again?”

Her magic yanked at my mind like a choke chain, and I screamed as my arms and legs gave out from under me.

Alana laughed, and I shuddered as I rubbed my wet aching cunt as much against the floor as I could.