The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“My little silver . . . Always so beautiful . . .” The Lady is holding me against Her, close, and I can’t resist nuzzling more into Her warmth. She smells like bliss. I don’t know if it’s perfume or some power of Hers that She doesn’t even know She has, maybe it’s just Her natural scent . . . but nothing is more innately comforting. Her arms are around me, and Her fingers are wormed so deep into my mind. Nothing can hurt me with Her here, nothing at all . . .

Smiling softly I look up at Her and met my eyes just melt into Hers. The color isn’t important. How pretty they are isn’t important. All that’s important is that those eyes, the eyes of The Lady . . . Even if she said I could call Her Jessy, She’ll always be The Lady to me . . .

Windy had to work on something in her little lab, so as a yummy replacement The Lady decided to take her place as a much more active pillow. Okay, She’s not a very good pillow, but this feels better than being cuddled up to a pillow. Outside of this embrace I know that She’s still the same woman I met in that 100th floor office, and that She can and does take her pick amongst any of the many women of Chronos . . . but in here, I’m what matters.

It’s more than love, but it’s not romantic. It’s . . . like family. It’s sweet, it’s tender, and it’s so much more than I could ever ask for or need, but it’s from Her and that’s all that matters. A part of me aches for Her to whisper those special words and just press my head down between Her legs, but I know She won’t. That isn’t to say I won’t be ending up down there eventually.

“Yours . . . and not nearly as beautiful as you . . .” As I watch Her though something changes, shifts . . . I can’t tell what it is at first, but She doesn’t seem to like it and Her eyes look worried for just a moment . . .

Then Her eyes lose that worry and look right past me. It’s as if She can’t even see me . . . I try to raise up a hand, to make Her face turn back to mine, but it doesn’t look like my hand! It’s not shining, it’s not silver, all of that shining chrome color is melting off of me and sliding harmlessly away from The Lady.

What’s going on?!

Whimpering, I grab at Her shoulders, but my hands just slide away from Her as if repulsed and the tears start to rise up in my eyes. “Lady! Please, please, don’t . . .!”

“silver . . .? Where’s my silver . . .?” Her eyes keep looking past me, as if She’s scanning the whole room from Her vantage point, knowing I should be where I am, but . . . to Her, I’m not.

My voice raises to a scream as I keep reaching for her, but the more I reach, the more my body seems to slide away from Her as if it’s being dragged, but I can’t tell by whom or what and it’s doesn’t matter. “Your silver is right here! She’s right here and she needs you! Lady! Lady please, please just see me, don’t let them take me away . . .!”

She looks right past me, and doesn’t even seem to hear any sound in the whole room. The silver that melted off of me flows down onto the bed, and I hit the floor with it. The sound doesn’t even attract any notice, and The Lady just sighs before She lies back, and Pink is in my place . . .

“Pink! Please, both of you, just . . . Please! I miss you both I miss—!” My lips stop moving and I freeze as I see the women pulling my legs. The left leg is pulled by a grinning Yanta, and at the right is a smirking Yanuka. Their orange red hair flows and billows in wind I cant feel, and it looks like their hair is made out of flame itself. “Please, I’ll do anything, I’ll call you Jessy, I don’t care!”

Yanta makes a sound that almost sounds like a laugh before she pulls out another of those sticks, another of those rods. It’s like she unzips the air and just pulls it out, but my body already remembers it. my body already recalls just how that felt sliding into my ear, that one single little word etched in the center of it, engraved, shining like a beacon that I couldn’t have ignored if I’d wanted to . . . “Do you remember what this is, Flesh toned Girl?”

The tears in my eyes start to fall over, and I can’t raise up my hands to push them away. My body is paralyzed. I can barely move, I can barely do anything at all. Each breath hurts and I can feel the sharp pain get worse and worse as my breath speeds up to a phenomenal speed with the panic. I wish I could just stop breathing, stop breathing, stop thinking, stop being.

As much as I hate looking back on it, that rod made me feel good, that rod made me feel perfect. Nothing felt so simple, or so perfect. Nothing, nothing, not even . . .

The two step to the side, parting, letting someone through to smirk down at me. At first I don’t recognize her, but when she speaks the shroud covering her, the veil of strange shadow falls away and just the sight of her is enough to make me cry out, and I only wish it wasn’t in pleasure.

“Even more perfect than I made you feel, sparkless cow slut?” A cruel grin twists on familiar red lips . . . Long blonde hair tied back, wearing a tight and familiar bodysuit covered with little things that look like little pieces of some grand machine. The fabric itself glitters as if it were made up of a thousand tiny little stars, and her hands, covered with that metal, oh, what I wouldn’t give to have that fetish indulged, fingers going into my ears, brain turning off . . .

“No! No, this isn’t right, this isn’t . . .! Let me go!” My body feels weaker and weaker than it ever has before, and my breasts start to swell. As if the pale skin wasn’t bad enough, pink just barely leaks from the tips of my nipples, and I wish it didn’t feel so good. It feels perfect, it feels like bliss, feels slower, feels good . . .

Mind Bore just laughs as the witches start to step closer to me, and I can’t seem to make my body move me away. “Oh, wouldn’t you just love a taste, Sarah? That is your name, isn’t it? Sarah?” Each time she says that, it hurts, it stabs deep inside of me. Silver! I wish she would just call me Silver, call me silver like She should be calling me silver but . . . “Here, let me help . . .”

She steps forward too, and I try to arch away, but my body is still frozen. Her finger rubs slowly around my nipple in a painfully pleasant way, and scoops up the pink before rubbing it slowly over my lips. I try to keep them closed, but they open, and she traces that pink cream over my tongue.

Nothing has ever felt or tasted so hot, so good, so perfect! It’s not just the taste of the cream though, I can taste my pussy on her finger, my pussy, my brain milk, and whatever else she put in there, whatever else . . .

Crying out I try to bite her finger, but my lips just close and I start to suckle her. I try so hard to bite, or stop, but I can’t. My tongue strokes, traces, and rubs to try and get all of that perfect taste that it can. Fuck remembering my name, fuck The Lady or Jade or anything else, none of it matters compared to this taste, this . . .

“Hmph, I don’t think she deserves anymore. It’s not fun once she starts to surrender and enjoy it, is it . . .? She’d do better in a closet . . .” Mind Bore laughs, and pulls her finger away. My whole body shakes and I try not to sob. I feel so cold, so frozen, so worthless and needy. I need more of that taste!

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Yanta holding up the rod before she slowly passes it to Yanuka. Yanuka just grins, and slowly slides her tongue around one end . . . and black oil, that inky goo, starts to run over and coat the length of the rod. No . . . no! I try to scream or thrash but it comes out as a whine and a squirm, nothing showing how desperate I want to get away. “No one ever wanted to get away, Sarah. And you never will. Not from us.”

Yanta’s voice burns into my mind, hurting deeper than anything else ever could, and Yanuka follows up quickly. “And you remember what I taught you? Do you remember what I taught you Sarah? About locks . . .?”

My head nods on it’s own, and I try not to speak, but my lips move on their own! I can’t even control my body! What’ve they done to me, how . . . “Oiled locks close the tightest . . .”

The witches both nod, perfectly identically . . . They almost look like twins. Yanuka holds out the rod, and they both grasp onto it very loosely with one hand and start to lower it down, down . . . “Time to lock you up for good this time, the Domina misses you.”

“NO!” I try to thrash, I try to arch away but I can’t, and I don’t want to. Not really, not at all. It feels so good, it feels so perfect, and like that . . . I won’t be dripping pink, I won’t be some sparkless wonder, I won’t be Sarah LaSilvas, I won’t be anything, and I won’t have to think, they won’t let me think, they wont . . .

In the corner of the room, the Domina sits, legs spread, dressed up in my old uniform, sans the panties. Between her legs, she’s thrusting an oiled up rod quicker and quicker, and with so much oil and her own juices I can hear each and every little movement as she moans, arching her back and almost breaking her lungs and her throat. She can’t even struggle anymore, not with so much oil, not with how deep they must have her under their control.

The two of us, we’ll make a matched set, a perfect pair to play with . . . Or we would have, we would have before I lost my silver, before I lost it, before I . . . I wish I could be silver again, just to be over there with her, licking up that oil as it drips, my own hands thrusting a rod just as quick in the same rhythm inside of me, that would be perfect, that would be hot, that would be . . .

“Yes, Sarah. Yes. Now, it’s time to turn you into sarah the sex dolly.” Their hands plunge forward, and with a scream the rod slides deep inside of me, so deep inside of my sex, filling me, stretching me, burying itself inside of me. I’ve never screamed so loud . . .!

The scream is still pouring from my lips, and I’m still pouring out between my legs when I wake up. My hands are rubbing furiously, one hand grinding my clit the other working deep inside of me.

Slowly the scream dies down and away as my neighbors scream and yell. I fall back on the bed, and don’t stop my fingers as I cry again, harder, my whole body shaking, and it shakes more as I reach climax. It’s unfulfilling, unsatisfying, and only proves just how fucked up I am . . .

Just like everything else since I left Yanuka.

I might not be Silver anymore, but Sarah is not the Sarah she used to be . . . To be honest, Sarah doesn’t even know who she is anymore. All she knows, is that dream felt good, even though it scared her senseless.

This is the third dream like that I’ve had since I was “freed.”

And it’s been three days.