The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Wakey, wakey, little Silver Girl . . . My dear sweet little Helena didn’t overload you that badly. You should be able to form some coherent thought now—quite unlike the last time I tried to wake you. It was hardly enough time for you to be able to comprehend stimuli . . .” Quillspawn’s voice is not the first thing that I wanted to hear, but it’s the one I hear all the same.

It sounds like every word drips into my ears like the slick wet ink of a broken pen. Oh I’d love to break her pen just like Yanuka’s . . . it would sure as hell be satisfying. That part of her anatomy is either in her heart, in her neck, or in her skull . . .

I wouldn’t mind doing some damage to any part of that ink dripping bitch . . .

“Good morning . . . You ink soaked slut.” My eyes are still feeling too tired to focus, and I’m not sure where I am. It feels cold though . . . Oh . . . Might be because my clothes are gone.

The ink is wrapped around me, around my ankles and my wrists, holding me up against the wall, exposed, shivering, and helpless. Well, I could still spark the hell out of her, but I’m really not sure if it would do much good. Besides, if this ink is like the ink that Helena had all it would end up doing . . .

And as if to remind me of that fact, ink coils from behind me to support my breasts, feeling as pleasant as it feels caging. “Oh, you’re the one soaked Silver Girl, I’m dry as a kite.”

“You know, if you’re trying to kill me with a mixed metaphor cocktail, you don’t need to try that hard.” My head is pulsing, my body is pulsing . . . all of me is pulsing. I don’t like feeling this helpless or this exposed, not when it’s not on my terms. At least when Mind Bore pulled stunts like this, she had me so far out of my mind that I didn’t have any worries at all. It would have been impossible to think enough to worry about how I couldn’t tell which direction was up. It would have been easy enough to figure out anyway since she always had me going down.

Just thinking about her makes my tits feel heavy.

Quillspawn just smiles her self satisfied smile. There’s no point in doing this to me. If she can just ink me, rewrite me, and make everything the way she wants it . . . she should just do it already. She should just impose her will on me, not leave me hanging here to suffer.

As arousing as being helpless and denied freedom of mobility is, and knowing there’s no way in a million years that I could get free, this is still a bit much. My head aches, and my eyes are still working overtime to try and get anything in focus quite crisply enough to make me feel anything but dizzy. Moments like this make me realize that comparing the women who usually snatch me up to the worst that could happen, well, I’m on the winning side.

Most of the time they just use me for their own purposes, and make me enjoy it. There’s nothing to mind, and no suffering. It’s better than real life. It’s freedom. It’s bliss. It’s everything good and . . .

For some reason, the thought of being caught like this, used like this, made to just feel humbled and fragile . . . It seems wrong. Something about the same sensation that made my time with Chronos so wonderful being used for anything that doesn’t at least feel good seems like a mockery of all of the things that I used to love about that life. It makes it harder and harder to reconcile all of the facts, but all the same . . .

“If I had been trying to put an end to your life, I am quite sure that I could have written one of my police officers to actually aim before firing. I was, admittedly for just a short moment or two, tempted to direct a bullet somewhere non lethal, somewhere that would leave you okay in a week or two. Heck, with your nurse friend I’m sure two minutes and snap! We could cure all that ails you, isn’t that right? Your life is so far beyond convenient, it’s laughable.” Yana sneers, and grabs my chin, leaning in close to me, too close.

“I’m sure you could have . . . I’m sure. Then why? Why can I still think? Why don’t you have me going out after Silhouette and Amethyst? Wouldn’t that make for the best plot? The fallen anti-hero tries to redeem herself, doing something that for once is actually heroic without it being her own mess to clean up like The Argentum Project was . . . and then she’s converted, corrupted, and she takes down her own closest friends, failing to save even those closest to her. And then, from the burned ashes of my life, you ascend like a phoenix made of ink to take over the world and make it into your perfect little story book . . .

“Does that sound about right? Does it?! I hope that it does. I hope that it’s been worth it . . . Then at least I’ll be able to find some peace in this. I don’t get the feeling you’re going to make this easy.” I want to slouch in the ink, but as I tensed it moved with me. Her grip tightens, and the ink in her eyes swirls and shifts . . .

Her pale hand pulls back, and the fingers slowly slide down over my face. From those dark, tar pit black lips echoes the most beautiful and dangerous laugh that I’ve ever heard in my life. All of the hair all over my body stands on end, and I have to fight hard to keep my face from showing the feelings it stabs into me.

After she stops laughing, she moves closer, and presses her black clad body up to mine, her black eyes inches from my own silver ones. “This isn’t about peace, sweet little silver skinned sweetheart. Life never is. Life, is about pathos. Life, is about suffering, and pain, and squeezing the few minutes of love you can from every hour of pain. But I have my reasons . . . and no . . . you will not be hunting down Valerie, or my dear Aniela . . .”

“Because we’re right here, right where she wants us.” Silhouette, my shadow kitty, my sweet innocent little shadow kitty, is the last voice that I wanted to hear.

The room is dark, but it seems to illuminate just for her, just enough so I can see her dressed in the same slutty black clothes that Yana’s other slaves wear. Silhouette’s, or Aniela’s clothes, are styled only slightly differently. Her shoes are high heels, dark black and shining in the way where if it was on a black and white movie, you know it would be “fuck me” red. Her long legs are bare as is most of her lower half, save for a small triangle of latex clinging so tight to her sex that every detail is so clearly screamed. She’s wearing a sleeveless blouse, with only one button in the middle, and no bra.

Her tattoo is unchanged, surrounding her face, and melting down along that side of her body, subtly. It could just be a shadow, ignored like anything else, but there’s a sensual beauty to it. There’s a sensual beauty to the way her shadows seem to surround her and yet somehow make her so bright.

“Silhouette?! I . . . You . . . You’re not supposed to be here . . . Or I was an idiot from the very beginning to think that you weren’t just another one of her revised characters . . .” Yana’s hand on my face stops me from turning more towards Silhouette, but it doesn’t matter . . . She’s not really there anyway. Aniela? I wonder if that was her name before or after Quillspawn dipped her fingers into her head.

“It was a character assessment of sorts, Silver. You were more willing to take the easy path of letting your sweet shadow curl back up to you than fight to fix Olivia. Like always, you let the path of inertia carry you along. Does anyone really have to control your mind when the world is more than capable of redirecting it with a simple thing like a new character introduction? A long lost friend, lover? Is that all it takes to make you forget the woman you love? You ran to Amethyst quickly enough . . . and we all know how you feel about her. So what is it Silver? What’s your excuse? You can’t blame those witches for that.” Her voice cuts me like a knife but it . . . it’s not her.

Silhouette, before or after I got to her, she was never like this. She might have told me I was stupid, and she might have fallen for my act a little easily, but she was never like this. I’m not like that! Being conflicted doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me . . .

Is it wrong to never want to grow up, to never leave everything I loved behind . . .?

“Yes, it is, Sarah . . . Silver . . . Argentia? Oh that was quite the little dream you had. To think, I was the one putting ink to paper, and still you went out of your way and surprised me with that little twist. That was all on your own! Oh . . . There are those in the writing community who swear that if the character doesn’t pull you about like a leashed dog that you’re ignoring the true story, but I was always one to keep my lead characters on . . . very tight leashes. This story? With you? I tried something quite different. I gave you plenty of slack, while still writing the story just as I would, and wouldn’t you know it? You still thrust yourself at the garrote!” Yana laughs that dark vile laugh again, and it makes my body shudder.

If I ever doubted that whatever had turned her from Yana to Quillspawn had left some fragment of a decent woman behind, I take that doubt back now . . . but not only did she somehow know my dream, but she even knew my thought .. .? “How did you . . .? What the hell?! Why are you still taunting me like this?! You won! Just say what you have to say and finish it!”

Sil-Aniela steps closer to me, and nuzzles into my trapped hand. Shadows even move to make whiskers from her face, and feline ears on her head as she purrs and nuzzles. Her eyes are nothing but shadows . . . obscuring shadows to hide the ink. Of course she’d be inked the whole time . . .

Is this story of hers supposed to tell me never to trust in human nature, and that even if I love Olivia with all my heart and want to save her more than anything I should try the straightforward approach instead of what I think has a better chance of fixing her? I didn’t run away to Valerie, I ran to Amethyst . . . I care for her, and I want to be there for Sylvia, for her daughter, I know what it’s like to know nothing about one side of your family, but . . .

Even Silhouette, I didn’t want her to take Olivia’s place! If anything, I was considering having a pet for both Olivia and me, for someone we could share, if Silhouette wanted that too.

I was trying to be honest about what I wanted, not run like from Alyssa to Olivia . . .

Still, Alyssa and I never would have worked out. She’s too comfortable with herself, and too well, vulnerable. She’d be my Lois and I knew it even if she didn’t. Seeing her mind twisted out of her head once was too many times for me. Olivia can at least handle her own if it’s a physical confrontation, and I think a heroine needs someone like- no time for excuses!

“Well . . . I can’t just tell some of these things to our readers, or even you. Some things in order to make the most poignant affect need to be shown, and felt . . . not just spoken of. If only our second mystery guest for the evening would do our little narrative the service of introducing yourself, in all of your glory . . . After all, without you, we wouldn’t have a story . . . Would we, Susan?” Her voice is so smug. If Quillspawn could orgasm just over delight at hearing her own voice speak words telling her she’s done everything right, I think that we’d have a flood on our hands.

Again I struggle with the ink, but when I almost manage to move my face the ink moves to coil in just the right way that doesn’t choke me, but prevents me from moving myself at all. I can’t even quiver the ink has me so tight . . . and then my mother walks into the dim light.

Never in my life had I ever even . . . begun to imagine Susan dressed in something like what she’s dressed in now. It’s not nearly as slutty as the other ink-fits I’ve seen so far.

Her shoes are slick black Mary-Janes that shine like they’re fresh from the box. Susan’s legs almost look covered in hose, but I can tell that’s just a strip of ink coiling up along each pale leg, and on both legs it ends in a bow tied just above her knees. It’s not just a small bow either, it’s elaborate, pretty, somehow graceful . . . A short skirt starts just above a strip of flesh just above the ribbons, black but ruffled, with another bow adorning the center of her waist.

The upper half of her body is covered in inky ribbon wrapped around her this way and that, ribbons at her shoulders like pads or epaulettes, somehow managing to look delicate. Her blonde hair is black and tied up by more of those ribbons . . . lips black, coiled in that smile . . .

“I won’t get scared if you want me again, like the last time . . . After all, you remind me so much of your mother, of Lida . . . And if she’s gone because of you, then you should be the one to make up for her loss anyway, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Her voice doesn’t sound right, the words, none of that is Susan! She walks over to me and starts kissing the hand Silhouette isn’t nuzzling.

“Stop it . . .! I know they aren’t who they look like they are. That isn’t my mother. She’s not my shadow kitten . . . Not really. Not anymore . . . Not after what you’ve done to them, hollowed their minds out, filled them up with what you wanted, not who they really are . . .” I try so hard not to stutter, and it only barely works.

She knows. Somehow she knows everything even things that mirror could never know. It’s like she’s been in my mind . . . this entire time . . .

Dark lips curl even more, and her head slowly nods in the most delighted affirmative I’ve ever seen in my life. “There you are, little Silver. Now the question is . . . how? When? Was it when you encountered The Poetess? Was it Silhouette? Was it Olivia? No, that would be too recent. So when was it, Silver? When did I start keeping tabs on my antagonist?”

“Antagonist?! I’d hardly . . . Fine! Whatever! It was you in the parking garage with a candlestick for all I care! I’m done! I give up! Done, given up, surrendered. This game just isn’t fun anymore! I’m not going to be your tortured antagonist any longer.” I really wish I could slouch . . .

“See, the fun thing is, you don’t need to be anymore. That pretty book? It has all of the last little things I need. You’ll be as active as I want you to . . . but I’ve wanted your fall to be special, extra special. So much so that I even brought back Silver Girl to make that fall have an added . . . depth. After all, you defeat Sarah LaSilvas for good as Patina and well . . . It leaves a sour taste in people’s mouths. I want my readers feeling satisfied.” Something in her twisted voice tells me she really does think everything she’s doing is justified. She realizes it’s insane, and some of it really is just vengeance . . . but she has to know she’s lost it.

She nods, and slowly steps back away from me though still within the light. My eyes can finally focus enough to still see her expression even as she steps away. “Stop thinking so much Silver, I can hear every thought anyway. Which is all I want . . . well, not quite. Susan? Aniela? You know what to do.”

“Yes Mistress Quillspawn!” Both of their voices sound in perfect unison and it’s one of the sexiest and scariest things I’ve ever heard. Slowly they step more towards me, and look into my eyes, before leaning their faces closer, and then down. My mother’s lips close around a nipple, and my shadow kitten’s lips close around the other. Already they’re impossibly hard, and the feeling of ink-wet lips just makes them harder.

A tingling starts to spread all through my body, and I don’t want to, goddess I don’t want to want this so desperately, but I can feel the desire rising. They’re not caressing me or kissing me or even looking at me. All they’re doing is suckling, but I can feel it . . . I can feel it everywhere inside of me, especially right between my eyes in the worst way possible.

The ink holding me in place lets my toes curl at least, and it doesn’t stop me from the whimpers that I can’t stop on my own. It just feels too good, the lips I imagined kissing, the lips I imagined kissing me, my mother, my once pet . . . its so beyond good, I swear I can feel my mind clench.

No . . . I can feel my mind clench. It’s something in my mind making it happen, something clenching and grinding through my thoughts, making me feel fuzzy and sloshy . . . and the feeling in my breasts is so familiar, something I haven’t felt in a long time but something that left far too much of a mark to ever even start forgetting. My nipples quiver in their eagerly suckling lips, it’s so impossible not to scream as they start suckling what feels like sweet viscous corruption right out of my body.

It’s like . .. oooh . . . Every small bit of it that I can feel Susan’s lips coaxing out, feels like it’s being torn out of the most tender parts of me. It’s like . . . like she can taste, like she can ingest, suckle, all of the dark parts of me, and Quillspawn’s influence . . . My clit burns the more and more they suckle.

Even if it always moved so quickly before, it’s moving so slow now, almost as if it’s struggling to pull its way out of me, to pull me out of me, goddess it makes my whole mind feel so tender and weak like a pair of shaking knees with fingers pressed to my clit and rubbing and grinding and pinching and oh fuck I’ve never felt anything like this, ever, not like this.

It’s like . . . like a snake . . . like a dark, black snake made of dark black ink slowly being pulled in two, and then pulled out of me, making me drip and shudder and clench the more that it’s influence is pulled away, the more it burns away my mind with the friction of it’s exit . . . Oh I feel so fuzzy-warm . . . hot . . .

Feels so good to feel it all being pulled out .. . It’s coming quicker now, so much quicker, almost feels like I’m coming, like I’m coming out, into my own mother’s mouth . . . Oh Silhouette’s mouth is yummy too but mmm my mother is suckling me . . .

It’s such a hot reversal . . . The essence of taboo.

Mmm it reminds me of what Pink said . . . Only the opposite . . . She said it felt like Dust was curling up and making a nest inside of her mind. This feels like that nest is being lovingly disassembled, and dragged out, heavy couch and all, right across my hot buttons and burning away everything but hot bliss . . . but I can feel how temporary it is. Once it’s out, my mind will slowly recover, I’ll be able to think, I’ll worry about the effects of things, the rest of the world, the rest of my life . . . but for right now . . .

“You look a lot happier with your mind like this . . . To think you have a history of escaping mental control . . .” Quillspawn’s voice grinds against my most tender places and I try not to scream. It’s all so much, all so . . . I can’t take it forever, can’t take it anymore, can’t take everything being sucked out . . . It’s just too whole, too complete, even if it’s just the ink.

Never wanted to escape, I just didn’t want it to be bad or hurt the people I care about. There’s nothing wrong with this feeling or any feeling, just the way . . . Ooooh . . . The way they’re sometimes used.

My thighs shake and I scream as the orgasm tears through me, and the last of the snake is torn from my breasts . . . into their mouths . . . and they pull away as I whimper and whine in afterglow. After glow . . . glow . . . warm . . . but I feel cold. Something feels missing, even if it feels so good, so strong, so . . . fuzzy, so . . .

The ink loosens, and I look down at myself, and my skin, it’s . . . it’s back to the pale color it was before, the simple pale pink tone of skin . . . “You see, Sarah . . . I wanted this to be fair. Of course you know now you never could have saved Olivia, much less Amethyst . . . And every police officer you ‘sparked’ you just filled with more of my ink. You were a fun nemesis to have, even on a short term basis, and even if you never really had a chance. Some women aren’t born to win, after all . . . and you’ve never been much for winning this sort of thing.

“Now . . . I have an appointment with a grimoire. After I’m all done getting the last thing ready before I, you know, overflow all over Midas . . . Mmmm . . . I can’t keep my composure, this is simply too much! This is better than when I turned my first adoring fan into an adoring slave! People will remember this, Sarah. You’ll have a role in the end of the world you used to know . . .” She blows me a kiss, and I feel it in my lips, but that might be because I’m feeling fuzzy . . . “We’ll see you soon . . .”

They all start to walk away, my mother, my kitty, my enemy . . . and it starts to sink in again how bleak this really is. I don’t know where I am, and the shadows are starting to close in again. Silhouette must have been keeping them back . . .

My nipples feel like they can almost just barely sense a little drip inside of them, irritating, maddening, but tingling in such a good way. They’re the most company I have as I hear a door close, and a light turn off. Quillspawn is going to go and read whatever it was she wanted from that book, and then finish up her little novel. I wonder if anyone would actually read a thing like this.

Quivering and clenching, my pussy reminds me whole heartedly, that I would.