The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“You take your sleep very seriously, don’t you?” Silhouette’s voice is the first thing I hear, and I am not particularly happy about that. My head is pulsing like someone just shoved an ice pick through my brain and then stuck the ice pick’s handle in a paint shaker. Suffice it to say I am not fond of waking up this way.

Our carpet is not quite white. I wonder which color of white this is. Is it bone, ivory, or eggshell? I never got such a close look at it before.

Groaning I push myself up and grab the back of my head for just a second before bringing my hand around to the front of my face. There should be blood on my hand. It feels like there should be blood on my hand. That really hurt. “Sleep? Silhouette, you hammered the back of my head so hard that I am not sure if the swelling in my brain will ever go down. And wow . . . my skin is . . . really shiny. Why the hell did this nev- oh right, because I used to think I could only make little star lights. Right. Fuck, Did you need to try and reach through my skull?”

Little spots keep dancing in my vision and of course they don’t go away when I wave my hand in front of my face but it makes me feel better. I don’t care if it makes me look insane. If anyone has no right to judge sanity it’s Punchy McShadowkill over there.

Fuck. That really hurt!

“Sorry, Silver. When someone tells me to ‘clock’ her if she starts babbling incoherently and shuddering like she has cerebral palsy I didn’t think she meant a love tap. Next time I’ll just flick you on the nose, would you like that?” She sounds annoyed, but only as annoyed as I would be. She has a very good point. She has a very, very good point. I was shuddering? All I could feel was her body, Olivia’s body. It felt like I was inside of Olivia’s body, inside of Olivia’s mind . . .

Can my silver do that? Can I actually channel myself out of my own body? Can I maybe actually turn my own body into spark energy just like Dust could turn herself into those dirty little particles? That would certainly be impressive.

I’m sure there are infinite possibilities compared to the ones I already know. However, none of them are important if they are not immediately helpful. As it is, I wouldn’t want to be inside of that.

Her head was so . . . full of that ink. It might have all been inside of her gold, just waiting for the right moment to merge and overflow, but . . . There was so much. There are oceans with less water. I had less Dust in my head when I could pour a mountain of it out of my ear. If she were to let the gold flow over her I think that it would be pouring off of her just like Dust’s dust would flow off of her when she willed it. I could feel the sheer power that Quillspawn has over her mind. There’s no way my sparks can compete against that.

Even with Silhouette’s powers fueling mine there’s no way we’re strong enough to go directly against that. There has to be some way to use it, some way to twist it, to redirect it . . . maybe it has some weakness that we don’t know? Maybe it is weak against my sparks if they’re used correctly?

For now, thinking about theory isn’t going to help. I look over to the couch and blink. “That’s okay Silhouette . . . Just next time uhm . . . No. Next time, do the same thing. Do it harder if you want to. Really get all the lead out. There’s just one question . . . Where the hell did Olivia go? The last thing I knew I was collapsing on the floor because of a well timed punch to my brainstem . . . and she was on the couch. Why isn’t she on the couch now?”

“Because you managed to wake her up. She really is a sweet woman.” Silhouette smiles and steps closer, reaching out to rub the back of my head. “I told her what was going on. Apparently the last thing she remembers is telling you she loved you, and then just . . . darkness. That is, until a silver hand reached down and pulled her back to reality. I have to admit . . . I’m impressed. She seems rather smitten. She said she was going to go and take a shower.”

“That is not Olivia. We need to get the hell out of here. Now.” I feel through all of the pouches on my belt. I’m out of blue dreams. My palm light is still there, and it has enough battery for . . . that gives me an idea, but with Olivia awake I don’t want to think too loudly.

My pouch for the “ruby slippers” is still full to the brim. I restocked on Icarus Powder. I have three more darts for my gun. None of the other pouches have anything especially useful.

Every so often it’s a good idea to take inventory of your arsenal.

“Why? You were only out for five minutes. I would have woken you sooner but I hoped you’d come out of it on your own. I would have thought the cat nap we had earlier would be enough to help you feel a little more rested than this . . .” Silhouette has a point, but so do I. There’s no way that I can stay here. Olivia was a trap planted well before I got my sparks back . . . and I know why.

“Run first. Talk later.” I grab her wrist and fling open the front door, tugging her out before turning to lock it behind us. “It’ll slow her down a little when she decides to follow us. Sadly, as the Ducati flies is not quite the same as the golden crow.”

Cute shadow kitty she is, my companion starts to talk, but I just yank her arm hard as I dash down the stairs. She makes a sharp yelp of surprise but doesn’t fight it. There aren’t too many stairs, and Sylvia isn’t parked too far away. We have a very important appointment to keep. Quillspawn is a writer with knowledge of space and time that obviously is well beyond my own. I might be playing right into her hands, but I have a good feeling about this. Staying, feels like the stupid idea.

There’s not much left of the night and I can smell it in the air. Everyone that has to get to work five hours before anyone should be awake is starting to fill the air with their exhaust. That means I’ll probably need to break a few traffic laws, but you’d be surprised how little that concerns me.

As soon as we’re on Sylvia I shove the key into her lovely little slot and Silhouette clings to me tightly as I start to speed us away.

Sure enough there actually is some traffic but I’ve had enough practice driving along side cars and swerving between them. Luckily the later isn’t all that necessary. To get where I’m going I think I can manage it with a minimum of stunt work. Who knows, I might catch the eye of a talent scout. Being silver haired and almost silver skinned is sure to draw some attention, but this stop should help with that too.

A wardrobe change is often a nice way to get rid of some unneeded worries.

“Slow the hell down Silver! Tell me what the hell just turned you from cracking jokes about me cracking you one to burning up the pavement?!” Her body is pressed tighter against me than Olivia’s ever has been. She sure as hell isn’t purring but it’s still a nice feeling.

I wait a few blocks before answering her. That doesn’t take very long of course. Blocks are passing us by pretty regularly. “I was inside of Olivia’s head, Silhouette. She’s a trap, and I know why. If I would refuse her offer to control everyone I want and get Chronos back on my own terms, which is what Quillspawn offered by the way, then Olivia would be who I would run to first. I would try to rouse her, and this time it would work. Olivia would help me try to solve the mystery, and then at the right moment . . . She turns to Aureus, dripping with ink, and she is way too strong for me to stop her from hauling me right to her owner.”

“That’s a nice bit of reasoning! Then where the hell are we going, Detective LaSilvas?! If Olivia isn’t safe and we still have no clue how to try taking on her Mistress, then where are we heading to?” Her voice actually sounds sincere. Wow. I actually am getting the hang of the more thought-involved part of this profession. If being self-employed didn’t preclude promotions I would more than consider asking for one.

Speeding past a red light I take a hard left to avoid getting us killed and then take a hard right at the next turn to put us back on course. I really feel bad for anyone normal living in Midas. Of course, there’s not a lot of places much better this size . . . Midas just has the reputation.

I’ve heard that Twilight Falls is about as notorious for some of the less glamorous parts of the lifestyle spilling into the public, but I never was too interested in visiting even when I was going cross country.

We shouldn’t be too much farther now. This might be an even worse idea than going to Quillspawn. It’s the logical next step, and she has to know I’d take this route if I figured out Aureus was a trap. Of course, that wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t shiny, and had Silhouette there to bring me back from the brink of ink-nebreation. Still, the only other thing that comes to mind would be even stupider. She has a lot more experience with this kind of thing after all. She would be an even better pawn . . .

“Well, Silver?! Where the hell are we going?! It’s usually cute when you get lost in your head for hours, but right now it would be a lot better to be in on this! I was supposed to be the one helping you, remember?” Her voice still sounds plenty confident, but she’s clinging white-knuckle-tight in that way that I know my driving has her on edge.

It would be a lot worse if this were a car.

“We’re going to Valerie’s! She has to have The Domina’s Silver Girl uniform, and I think she’d be much safer to experiment on saving. I don’t think that Quillspawn filled her to the brim with ink like she did with Aureus!” I take a hard left and decide to stop at this red to catch my breath. “It’s a start.”

“Sounds good as anything I can think up. Valerie is Amethyst, the violet haired woman who was The Domina’s lover, right?” I tense and nod. “Let me guess, she wasn’t the only one who liked her?”

I groan and speed away at the first sight of green. “It’s sort of annoying to be jealous of yourself, but yes, you’re right. We both have a thing for her. Valerie found me after I’d newly lost my powers and was a wreck physically and mentally. She helped doctor me back to health. She used a little of her mind-fuzzing mist on me, but it felt like we made a connection. She left a mark. When I got back into town, I was already dating her. It was just the wrong me.”

She doesn’t respond, and I’m thankful. The last thing I want right now is seriousness or a wisecracking comment about how she thought she had it bad. I didn’t settle for Olivia. I love Olivia. I care about Olivia, damn it! I can’t be the only one who can tell we’re a great couple . . .

Silhouette doesn’t say a word for the rest of the drive, and neither do I.

“So remember. She’s still inked and no doubt Quillspawn will be alerted to our presence a long time before I’d prefer . . . so we’ll need to incapacitate her quickly and worry about everything else after she’s out cold. But she’s carrying my . . . The Domina’s child, so be gentle, okay?” I leave Sylvia parked on the street and lead the way to Valerie’s apartment.

The last time I was here, Valerie kept looking at me like she was about to cry, or worse. Every so often a look on her face just screamed that she was seeing The Domina and not me. Every so often, I was tempted to take advantage of that . . .

Well, the last time she saw The Domina she was silvery. Valerie doesn’t know I’ve gotten my powers ba- no. I’m not going to make it harder for her to recover. This is to save her grief!

Sometimes it is passionately difficult to be one of the good gal mind controllers.

Sil nods and looks around suspiciously. If we’re successful I just might take the time for another nap. I have the feeling until this is over we won’t have a good eight hour period to waste on sleep. “No problem Silver. I can handle things delicately. Shadows don’t break noses, they silence and restrain.”

“You know, I have a friend you might just need to meet after this is over. I’m not sure if I’d know how to get a hold of her, but you have much the same style.” She has even less stairs leading up to her apartment. Her building has an elevator but if Quillspawn was prepared for me to take this route then I’d hate to be trapped inside of a metal box held up by wires. It’s not a very tall building but that elevator has lights on the ceiling. I’m not sure it would be so easy to climb out of.

No one answers the door, so I click it in another five times with rapid finger jabs. I don’t really have a calling card ring but that’s the closest thing. Valerie might not even be home, but if she’s not then we just might need to break in and wait. Breaking and entering isn’t exactly what I had in mind for today, but I don’t think dealing with egomaniacal villainesses were on my mind either.

She still doesn’t answer the door. I jab another five times and look around slowly. Usually standing in the middle of a hallway dressed up like your friendly neighborhood super heroine makes me feel nervous and awkward. Right now, I’m too worried to feel awkward. This is too serious.

Just when I’m about to click the button again, the door opens a crack and a few strands of purple hair drift through the open crack of the door. “Sarah . . .? What are you doing here, it’s . . . late . . . early . . . ungh . . . Wait . . . Sarah?”

Her voice raises a few octaves in that way that I know she means her Sarah. She always calls The Domina that – her Sarah. It’s a fair way to tell us apart, but it drives a knife into my chest every time she says it. At least now my heart can take the punishment. “No sweet heart . . . Sorry to wake you . . . it’s time for you to go back to sleep anyway. Sorry, but I really can’t explain. I’m sure you’ll understand when I can explain . . . that’ll have to be good enough.”

From my eyes I fire a twin pair of sparks and let them sink into her own eyes. They don’t fade like all of my projectiles used to – I let them expand. Her body shudders away from the door with a whimper, and I kick it open hard. The chain snaps from the wall, and shadow rushes ahead of me through the door.

I’ve never seen anything like it. The shadow curves around once it’s inside of her apartment and uses the momentum to half wrap around her before it turns back into Silhouette. I can taste Valerie’s body starting to quiver out of control, and . . . there’s a reaction. Her purple mist starts to flow from her like a fog machine set on full blast and Silhouette moans before starting to slump against her.

That was not exactly what I had in mind! The sparks inside of Valerie burst and she lets out a loud cry before both the misty mother-to-be and my shadowy sidekick collapse over onto the carpet. “Oops . . .”

Before I step in I look around the hall. No one has opened their doors and nothing has mysteriously popped out of the woodwork. I step in, and lock the door behind me as soon as I can. The good thing is, Valerie looks as out of it as I can imagine her looking. Silhouette on the other hand . . . well, her shadows melt away from her, and I’m not particularly surprised. It must take some concentration to keep them wrapped around her. Sparks make mist. That’s something worth noting. It must have made their sex life . . . potent, especially if mist makes sparks.

Valerie’s apartment is a lot bigger than mine, and a lot better furnished. Her couch actually looks first hand, and the carpet is a pretty shade of purple. The edges don’t look worn. The ceiling isn’t cottage cheesed.

You wouldn’t doubt that a doctor lives here, but you wouldn’t think her a snob.

“Well you two . . . Looks like I’m going to have to fix this, huh?” Some mist still lingers around them and I can’t risk getting melted by it. I was able to fight it off before but if it makes my sparks go wild I might not be able to resist the pull. If my sparks take control of me again and Quillspawn starts to ink me . . . it wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for sure.

It would be pretty but it wouldn’t be very good for Midas City. At least the mist seems to be weakening on its own. Silhouette keeps making the sweetest mewling sounds . . . Her cat programming must have really hit home. If she received government deprogramming then they really scrubbed her brain right down to her id. She held onto it on purpose, or The Lady linked it to a part of something in the root of her subconscious, or . . . who knows. Maybe she wasn’t mewling again till we met back up.

I look around the apartment a little to try and find some sign of what Quillspawn has planned for her, but it looks normal. A few books on being a new parent sit on her coffee table. I’m sure she won’t need them to be the best mother to little Sylvie.

She isn’t showing any signs of it yet. Her body looks just as curvy as it did inside of her pretty little uniform she wore as Amethyst. Her half open eyes are glowing, but that’s starting to dim as the mist fades that last little bit. Giving into temptations isn’t the right way to keep yourself pure, but sometimes letting your own mind indulge in some daydreaming can help you resist the urge.

Valerie is only wearing a silk nightshirt, a bright shade of sky blue, and the button between her breasts lines up perfectly with her hard nipples. Her breasts haven’t even gone through their motherly growth spurt, and already they’re that sweet size that looks like they might be just a touch out of proportion with how slender and toned her body is. I can’t blame Mind Bore for the fact that I wonder just what it would be like to pull open that garment and taste her nipples, spark them just a little, see if witches start producing milk sooner . . .

I remember how it felt to taste that cocktail made out of my own body and it makes my head spin. I know that real breast milk doesn’t taste like that, but . . . it makes me even more curious. It would feel so nice to even just cup her through the nightshirt . . . Slide my warm body against hers . . .

No! No taking advantage of women who are letting you be the honorary auntie to their little girl. She could just as easily have nothing to do with me, but I just . . . it’s impossible not to want her.

Besides, I saw her first!

“Come on Valerie . . . Stop misting so that I can start trying to help you . . . You helped me all that time ago, my amethyst eyed angel . . . You can let me help you now, right?” It’s silly to think she can actually hear me right now, but it almost looks like she tries to respond. Her lips twitch for just a second . . . and she whispers something.

I lean closer to hear what she’s saying, and her eyes pop open wide. It feels like the ambient soundtrack should have just turned into warning the sound of a horn. “VRaine.ink deactivated. Mist Bot acknowledges. Intruder will be neutralized.”

Her voice sounds almost robotic. Every syllable is painstakingly pronounced, and a moment later she pushes off of the floor and hovers just an inch off of her toes pointed down cutely at the floor. Her nightshirt flutters around her as if a wind from within her is making it ruffle, and a mist starts to surround her. Her irises shine brightly, before her pupils melt over them, and her face gains that extra darkness, that extra definition, and her hair blows in front of her face.

This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I get the feeling that I really shouldn’t be surprised. Sparks are just going to make this situation worse, so I jump back and pull out my dart gun and fire at her chest.

“Cease resistance. Surrender. Failure is inevitable. Quill-spawn will re-write all that does not suit her desires. Comply.” Right as the dart is about to stab through the silk, a gust of wind changes its trajectory and it instead flies through the glass of the light fixture not too far from above my head. I jump away as the glass falls and shatters into a million flowery textured pieces.

This is in no way ideal!

“Your weapons are obsolete. Quill-spawn will cover the world in ink.” Before I can reach back to refill the gun she launches a burst of purple air right at my hand with one of hers. I don’t even get the chance to let go of the gun before its parts litter the floor.

So, Valerie was programmed to be Mist Bot. She told me that Mind Bore had modified her during the run of the project. She didn’t tell me the effect it had on her, but the way her eyes glazed just describing it made that painfully obvious. Quillspawn gave Olivia the comfort that she didn’t need to do anything at all. She didn’t need to worry about making the wrong choice or needing to be strong. She turned Valerie into a robot. She tried to turn me into The Domina.

I wouldn’t exactly call her Santa Clause, but her methods smack of wish fulfillment. Then again, all of our wishes fit perfectly into her plan. Most people don’t have the same wishes. So I’m down a weapon and projectiles aren’t likely to have any effect on her . . . anything more hand to hand is going to be putting my mind in her hands.

This sure is a catch-47.

“Relent. Surrender. She is making the world a better place. Those who do not comply must be converted.” There’s no emotion in her face or in her voice. My blood is sufficiently chilled.

Swiftly both of her palms are aimed out at me and a cone of purple mist floods towards me. I drop to the ground to try and roll away from it and it follows me. There’s so much of it and it’s so thick, wet, humid . . . it smells like sex and . . . and . . . ink.

I can see black spots in the mist as it keeps heading for me, and I cover my ears as if denying it an orifice would matter. It feels thick and wet against my face, and it’s getting harder to sit up, easier and easier feeling to just fall onto my back and . . . to just let it wash over me, to let it . . . mmmm . . . it would be so good to just let it take over. Maybe I could find out how to stop her from the inside, like politics, strive for change from the inside . . .

Enough of my mind is still intact to let me know just how insane that sounds. The inside is just full of wet slick ink, and there’s no changing it. It changes you. You’re the one that changes from the inside, rewritten into a wet slick little slave bot . . .

There’s really just one last idea that comes to mind, and it’s not particularly smart. I take a deep breath, and a small blot of ink hits the back of my throat. I almost start coughing, but instead I make my entire body flare up at once, a giant spark, just like The Domina did before she started flying about on The Array. . . and focus all of it on sending me right at Valerie.

All around me the purple and black starts to fill with silver arcs that look like lightning in the form of pure blinding light. The mist gets stronger, but the ink stops coming. My body keeps melting lower and lower into the carpet, and I whimper as I feel myself starting to slick against my uniform. It’s impossible to close my eyes and impossible to keep them open. All I can see between the mad fluttering of my eyes, is the silver arcing over Valerie and making her shudder and twist in the air. All I can feel are my own sparks sucking the mist deeper and deeper inside of me, and oooh god it feels like it was always meant to be there.

I can feel it smoothing through every sense, every nerve, every part of me that felt overwhelmed by my sparks feel soothed even as I can’t stop. The mist is conductive, that’s what it is, and I . . . oh goddess I can feel it sizzling through me. It’s conductive but it’s soothing at the same time. If it doesn’t stop I don’t . . . I don’t know if I can ever stop.

There’s a loud sound, but I can’t even perceive what it is, I can just feel . . . Valerie. I can feel a link through the open current and her continuous gust. I can feel every muscle in her body tensing and shuddering in deep spasms as my silver fills her. I can taste her perspiration sliding over her breasts, along her thighs, along her neck, down her back . . . goddess I can taste her nectar as her pussy convulses and clenches.

I can feel . . . shearing . . . The wind is too strong inside of her, the sparks keep drawing it out stronger and stronger, she can’t hold it back. My body is starting to feel cold, shuddering not only with pleasure and bliss, but with fatigue. Hers is just as weak, just as aching . . . I can only feel my body through our link.

I feel torn away . . . disconnected.

The buttons on her night shirt tear away, and through her mind looking through my eyes I can see her violet nipples, hard peaks of flesh struggling through the arcs of silver endlessly assaulting them. Her thighs clench and quiver as the silver sizzles over her slit again and again. She can’t stop misting there, just like I can’t stop sparking there. We’re linked by our clits, and every time she screams I can feel it in my nipples.

I’ve never felt so connected to another human being, to another person, to another thing that wasn’t a figment of my imagination or me. It’s so raw, like what books make sex sound like. I can actually feel her flesh grinding against mine, wet and slick, hands cravingly groping to pull me closer.

Oooh I can actually feel my pussy melting into hers, our dew sizzling and sparking, misting and connecting us like . . . oh like fate, like a force of nature, like nothing we could ever make on our own. It’s like . . . oh it’s like nothing! It’s its own!

Dark patches start to fill my vision, but I can feel . . . bits of something . . . of confusion . . . of confinement . . . ripped and torn away, shredded, thrown . . . slickly dissolved, melted away . . .

Something else dark, something smoother, oh, smooth . . . I can feel it wrapping around my body and wrapping around hers. Which do I feel first, which is which . . .? I don’t know, I don’t know if I ever knew, I don’t know if we were ever two people . . . My Raine drop . . . She’s wanted me to call her that for so long, since The Domina left, to make her feel better, to make her feeeel something, feel . . .

The shadow starts to separate us, pulling us apart, and I cry out desperately even as my vision starts to get more than just patchy. It’s hard to breathe, my mist is the only thing filling my lungs, her sparks are the only things filling my chest.

“Silver!” A voice screams over the maelstrom, and I just scream. I want to reason with it, to beg the voice to keep me close to my angel even if it means I’ll drown or suffocate or sizzle away. I just need her, I need to be close to her, I need to be inside of her . . .! but the voice doesn’t understand. I don’t even understand . . .

Something dark feels like it cuts me in half and I scream as much in relief as pleasure I only feel one of me screaming and shuddering in orgasm . . . so cold . . . it’s so . . . so cold . . .

“It’ll be okay Sarah . . . I think you did it . . .” Sarah . . .? Her Sarah . . .? My Sarah . . .? Valerie . . .? Did what . . .?

I groan and try to sit up, but my hands don’t even move, they just feel like they do. Every thought makes my head jolt and I scream at the futility. It’s so . . . so hard to focus . . . to . . . I try to cry out, but it’s just a whisper of a mewl instead. I feel so broken, so wasted, so . . . torn . . .

A hand slides across my forehead, and I feel more the movement of sweat than the hand. “Sleep Sarah . . . I think I see the sun rising . . .” I don’t want to sleep, but fate has other things in mind.