The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Valerie stays close. In fact, she keeps squirming like she’s trying to get closer. Her legs wrap around mine, and her thighs are entirely too warm to ignore. My breath quickens, and my chest and cheeks flush. I wish I could get back into the stubborn headspace that she isn’t my real mother. There are so many things I’m so very tempted to do to her even as it is.

“Wanna talk about . . . anything?” The only thing that feels right to do is slide my fingers along her hair and hold her close. Even if her arousal is making my thigh slick.

“S-sure . . . I . . .” Valerie’s deep, amethyst eyes, swirling with hints of mist, lock with mine. Her gaze is so amazingly intense for how young she looks. It doesn’t help that whatever weird aging we have has kept her from looking a day over twenty-five on a purely physical level. “Not sure what. You feel really good . . . Really warm . . .”

I bite my lip as she starts to rock her hips against me. She’s getting slicker, and if I push her away with how fragile she sounds, she might end up crying instead. “Y-you do too, Mom. Maybe you should stop doing that. I’m sure it feels really, really good, but sooner or later I’m going to save you from all of this and we’re going to have to have a very awkward conversation if you keep doing that. I mean it . . . Feels nice and . . . Okay, really, you shouldn’t be doing that.”

Her hands slide down along my back, pulling me tighter and tighter, until they end up cupping my ass. My eyes flutter as I suck in a sharp gasp. There is nothing young about the way she’s grinding her thigh against my pussy. I hold her tighter, and struggle to keep my breathing even as she starts to knead.

She doesn’t respond, or even start another trembling response. Instead, she starts to knead harder, grinding her chest against mine. I whine, and reach down to try pulling her hands away. She kneads harder, and my moan escapes every effort to hold it back.

“M-mommy! You really . . . Really need to stop doing that . . .! Gonna . . . gonna really regret . . . oh fuck your skin is so perfect!” I melt against her as she starts bucking her hips faster, knee tingling against me in the most . . .

Valerie’s mist is so much more subtle than Sylvia’s power. It’s like silk rubbing through my sensitive folds, curling around my clit and somehow clenching without being solid, making my eyes roll back into my head. It’s hard to concentrate, so impossible to concentrate as she starts kissing my neck with misty lips. It feels like it melts through me, holds my most tender places and . . . warms them, melts them . . .

The sore places inside that the water didn’t warm feel so much better. I’m still not about to spark, and I know all about the way sparks and mist work together, but fuck is it tempting to try. Her nipples are so stiff, and her breasts feel so warm against mine. I feel so heavy, and my thighs feel so slick.

Her mewls against my ear resonate across my skin like a wave of heat. “Don’t want to stop . . .! You feel so good . . . So warm . . . Fun to touch . . . I want to keep touching you, and you should let me. You’re liking it, too!”

Even with her voice sounding pouty and young, her words are hot. They reach deeper than they should. I try to push her away. I try, only to fail without her being moved at all. My arms still feel so weak even if they don’t feel as exhausted, and her grasp is so tight. It takes entirely too much effort not to just agree with her. “Please, Mommy! Let me go, please. You don’t really want this.”

“Want this! Want this!” It’s not so much an argument, as a command. I open my mouth to object, but her lips mash into mine, her tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Mist melts into my mouth with the kiss. I can taste it, feel it making it so hard to do anything but . . . I kiss her back, and moan.

I . . . want this . . . I want her . . . her body feels so good, and I can feel how much she wants me, how much she wants me to touch her. I don’t resist. I rub down along her back, and knead her ass the same way she’s kneading mine. She’s so wet, and her thighs clench so tight at the first hint of my hips rubbing back. Want this . . . I want this . . . I want her . . . I want to fuck her . . . don’t know how much I’ll be able to feeling so worn, but I need her . . .

She breaks the kiss, instead nibbling her way down my neck. I moan and arch against her, eyes fluttering, jaw slack . . . she feels so amazing. She feels like bliss, like sleeping but better.

My lips trace along her neck, tasting her, suckling her, as I grind my hips back against hers. It’s hard to move very fast, but every little motion feels like heaven with her mist wrapping around us. All I can do is moan and shudder. I want this, I want her, I . . . Want . . . Want so much . . .

“Mmm can feel how much you want it, it feels so gooood! Wanna cum . . . cum with me!” Her voice sounds older now, so much older, and the seductive edge sends me right over. I scream, clenching around her leg before I add my own lust to her thigh and melt even more limply against her. I can’t move, just shake in the afterglow, as she arches and shakes in hers, warm smooth mist holding us both tight.

My eyes flutter closed. Impossible to think past how good this feels. Love her, love how she feels, love how she makes me feel . . .

“Aurora . . .? Rora . . .? Oh my goddess . . . Come on, you need to wake up sweetie, we need . . . we need to find a way out of here . . .” Want to do what she asks, but I feel too heavy. I can barely move, and it’s hard to stay awake with her holding me like this. So close, so slick, so . . .

Can’t fight my way past the physical exhaustion. She made me feel so good, so helpless, and that always makes me feel so . . . drifty . . . makes me think of Sylvia cuddling me to sleep after melting me, or . . . “Mmm love you . . .”

Can’t stay awake, but at least she smiles and squeezes me a little closer.

Rebeca pulls me along back down the corridor. I’m really going to love being a part of this if everyone is half as amazing as those two. Green skin is definitely sexy on more things than alien slave girls. They were just so passionate, so sexy, so . . . Mmm . . .

I follow Rebeca back into her room. It’s small and cozy, but has all of the amenities you could hope for. There’s a dining area with a large wall-mounted television, a kitchen, a nice fluffy-looking bed, and a door that probably leads to a private bathroom. I’d hope for my own room like this, but I’d rather put those hopes towards being here in Hope’s room too often to need my own.

“Well, you’ve met our botanists . . . I would introduce you to our psychic, or our mage, but they’re busy preparing for our next objective. You understand.” Preparing sounds inherently sexual. It shouldn’t, but my libido is on overdrive.

“That’s okay. Counter Spell and Psiona, right? You mentioned Psiona before and we bumped into Counter Spell earlier. Remember? I look forward to that, but I understand if they’re busy. You, however, are not.” I almost interrupt myself to ask about the band, but they can fend for themselves. Nikki can keep them reined in if nothing else, and she’s so good at pinning a girl down and giving her reasons to stay down. “Unless there’s anything else on our plate for the day, I’d like to indulge you a little. You’ve been looking at me the same way I’ve been looking at you.”

There’s something about someone as confident and powerful as Rebeca breaking into a blush that makes my thighs clench. I like having that power over her. I let my eyes trail over her body slowly, letting them rest on her breasts. She squirms, and even held in her bodysuit her breasts shift in just the right way. I lick my lips, and she squirms again.

I feel so hungry. It reminds me of the way I felt when Aurora’s need for me took control when Valerie found me. Wait . . . Auro . . . who . . .?

I blink, then moan to make Rebeca shudder again. Her nipples become a little more prominent, and I imagine curling my lips around them one at a time. She has the most delicious skin, and such cute pink nipples. I want her so bad.

She giggles and pulls out a chair from the small table before heading to the fridge. “Well, there is a little something else we need to get done, but it’s not too important. I wanted you to help me test something. It’s nothing you need to do anything special for, just a new version of some hardware I’ve been working on, and a new point upgrade. Mom doesn’t like me tapping into our servers remotely, but that’s never stopped me before.”

Her eyes hood, and I let my toes curl after taking the offered seat. She’s such a bad girl in just the right way. I can’t see her hurting anyone, but I can see her kissing them and walking away wiggling her fingers. It’s a hot image.

“Okay! I’m game . . . not really all that big on tech, but I’d love to give it a try. Midas High had some of those 3-D interfaces, but we were always a couple versions behind. And that was a year ago . . .” It’s exciting to be a guinea pig for the cutting edge. Draupnir leads the pack.

Mom’s constant jokes about breaking toasters never helped me feel very comfortable with technology. The virtual reality interfaces are becoming more common, but they always seemed so suspicious.

Rebeca sets two fizzing glasses down on the table and winks before heading over to her desk. I can’t imagine what she could be getting out. The classiest interface is a helmet, and the drawer isn’t nearly big enough for a bike helmet, much less something with trailing wires. I remember Pamela doing a news report once on people with cyber augmentations to plug in directly.

That strikes me as even more dangerous.

“Here we go . . . They’re new, prototype, but they should be more than enough for the desired effect. Here.” Rebeca steps back over, holding out a pair of sleek black sunglasses. They’re a little stiff, and a little big for sunglasses. “I’ve been working on the weight, and the lens size. Psiona seemed to enjoy it enough, but I wanted your thoughts.”

I take a nice long sip, and flutter my eyes. Whatever that is, it tastes sweeter than soda but it packs a kick. I’ll need to see about getting more. “They look amazing! They really work? I can’t believe they’d be able to really . . . do much. I mean they’re just . . . too small.”

Rebeca shrugs. “Not really. There’s enough drive space to store a couple libraries in just the left earpiece. The antenna is spread out around the lenses. All of the virtual landscape processing, interfacing, all of that is on the right earpiece. What looks like one lens? Actually three layers each. They can act for stand alone applications, or networking. Of course a majority of these parts had to be custom ordered, and this isn’t a commercially viable piece of hardware. We’d lose hundreds on each one, or no one would be able to afford them. But . . . I’m rambling. It’s more a ‘proof-of-concept’ thing.”

“O . . .kay . . .?” Everything she just said went way too far over my head. “I don’t need to understand that for it to actually work, do I?”

She laughs, and slowly shakes her head. I curl my fingers around the earpieces and shift the weight in my hands. They do feel heavier than normal sunglasses, but they fit comfortably over my ears. My nose doesn’t even regret the weight. They’re just opaque black on the inside, but I imagine they aren’t turned on.

Rebeca’s fingers slide through my hair, and I mewl at the sensation of her warm skin against my scalp. Her nails press just enough to be felt without clawing. She knows how to use her body so well.

A white light flashes bright into my eyes, and I whimper, blink, and . . . reality shifts . . . and I’m . . .

“Rebeca . . .? Am I . . . is everything okay . . .?” I’m not in her room anymore. I’m in a classroom, surrounded by empty desks. I’m the only one in the room, at least I am until Rebeca appears across the room out of nowhere. She’s dressed like a teacher, or . . . more like a professor. She has the same long white labcoat, but under it is a tight blouse and a short skirt that looks professional and risque. Everything about her radiates authority. Her hair is blonde for whatever reason, but it does look good on her. “You made yourself a pair, too . . .?”

“No. I’m an interactive simulator. The glasses are interfacing with your mind and have created me from visual memory.” The simulated Rebeca looks herself over curiously, then smiles, clearly pleased. “Your mind has been fully calibrated. And to answer your question, you are safe. Part of the reason I exist is to keep you safe.”

I shudder and stare. She looks so gorgeous, so perfect in every way. She looks more than gorgeous. She’s Rebeca with that long gorgeous blonde hair she loves wearing. She’s even wearing a gorgeous tight white outfit, just like she always loves, and she’s in control. She’s always sexiest with a little spice of control. She just belongs in control, it’s hard to understand why, it’s just . . . truth.

My simulated Rebeca steps closer, her movements at first jerky, then sensual, crisp, clean. Her eyes flash a gorgeous silver-blue for a moment, and I quiver. Rebeca might not have any powers, but she is a super genius. Every second I’m here, dressed in this entirely too revealing outfit . . . short pleated skirt that’s almost a belt, an open blouse a few sizes too small, the only way it fits is with a few buttons open. The tie down the middle is just over the top, but . . . It just makes me want her more. It makes me need her more.

“Running test zero one. I will be asking you a series of questions, and you will respond honestly. Understood?” Her voice makes my knees shudder. She’s so authoritative. She’s so dominant. She’s the very essence of control.

I nod, but it almost feels like something else is making me nod. My forehead tingles for a moment, almost burning, but then it stops. Even if the glasses are controlling me a little, I don’t mind. I love how it feels. I love feeling Rebeca’s genius pushing me down to my knees in my own mind. Somehow that makes it more real.

“Good. Question one: Who is Aurora?” My simulated Rebeca smirks as she asks the question. It makes my scalp tingle – her smirk, not the question. “Please answer. Who is Aurora?”

“Aurora is . . . Aurora is . . . nnnn . . .” My knees surrender, and I land on my ass with my legs not so gracefully spread. The too-short skirt can’t fall far enough to cover my thong. My thighs are slick. I want to answer her question, but something about it doesn’t feel like I should. It doesn’t matter that I don’t really know the answer. Just thinking about the question makes my forehead ache.

I rub at that spot, right in the middle of my forehead, and whimper when my power can’t flow out to soothe the ache. She’ll need to learn how to simulate super powers. Otherwise one of my key demographics won’t enjoy this as much.

Rebeca stands over me before gracefully bending down at her knees. Her intense eyes glisten with curiosity and something erotic that rhymes with cruelty. “Tell me, Sylvia. Who is Aurora?”

My throat screams before I can react. My body is covered in sweat. I don’t remember when that happened, or when I started shaking. I just know it’s been a long time. My thighs clench, my eyes flutter, and I stare into Rebeca’s. Her eyes look so gorgeous, even when they’re only imitations made by my mind. She leans closer. The closeness makes my thighs slicker.

My vision is hazy in a way I’ve never felt before. I feel more than feverish – I’m on fire. It’s consuming everything, remaking me from the same burning embers searing me away. I could write a whole album just trying to describe the tingling in my lips, not to mention my thighs, my thoughts, my toes . . .

I scream as the flame surges hotter and lava flows along my thighs. The illusory Rebeca grins down at me and hoods her eyes. “Perfect. Now tell me, Sylvia. Tell me the answer.”

“There is no . . . no Aurora . . . Don’t know what you want me to say . . . but I wouldn’t mind if you asked again. It felt really, really good not to know.” I feel like I spun on a chair until I fell off, not from the dizziness, but from an orgasm. Could probably make a good song with that as a base . . .

“That’s the right answer. There is no Aurora. You can enjoy the beach, now.” Robo-beca’s voice shudders through my senses, and the floor underneath me turns into sand. The sun is warm on my back. My slutty school girl outfit has transformed into a black bikini covered with silver and amethyst stars. Everything is stained with purple-orange light from the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen in my life. “Just enjoy, while I protect you.”

Lips kiss to the back of my head, and I close my eyes. I dig my toes into the sand, and then my fingers. Sand. Is sand the grains, or the whole beach? I pick up a handful and feel it filter down between my fingers. For some reason the motion feels important. Something just . . . pouring and carried away by the wind . . .

“How can there be a sunset . . . with no sun . . .?”