The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My head feels like it’s swimming, and not adeptly. Around me isn’t water, but a dim, low sound that makes me tremble as it pulses in my ears. I can feel my self, not my body but my sense of self, just barely buoyant enough to float in the sound. It’s amazingly familiar, yet I can’t identify it for the life of me.

I know that if nothing reaches out to me in the middle of the sound, I might never stop floating . . . and that excites me.

“You passed the audition, Sylvia. You’re our newest singer. Congratulations.” Sure enough a voice grabs me and pulls at least something back into focus. Miss Corvi’s voice grabs me. Miss Corvi, the woman to impress, and my new boss. She has a pretty voice. I’m helpless to do anything but listen to every little bit of pronunciation, of inflection, of personality. It’s even prettier than I thought it was before.

It feels so strange. I can’t see, or feel, or do anything but hear, but it doesn’t make me feel panicked. Somehow it feels almost natural. My mind is open, just waiting for the next time she speaks. A part of me wants to respond, to be excited, but I can’t muster up the ability. It’s just not there.

So much of me feels so far away. I know it’s there, but I can’t reach far enough to grasp it. The music is the only thing I can easily grasp and even that feels intangible. It makes me feel so helpless.

If I’m swimming in anything wet it’s my own arousal.

“You’re a very talented singer, Sylvia. You have drive, passion, focus, and that insatiable desire to be the absolute center of attention. You have the body for it, too.” Distantly I can feel hands fondling my breasts, flesh against flesh, but if I moan it’s involuntary and the sound isn’t important enough to draw my focus. “You, are just what I’ve been looking for. Even the perfect age.”

Being sized up by her like this is so dreamy, so perfect. I’m trapped in a soothing, redundant melody while her hands distantly touch my body, and to top it off she’s telling me just how perfect I am. She’s going to make all of my dreams come true. It’s almost enough to make me cum.

The trapped way the song makes me feel reminds me of how Aurora pinned me down as she started searing away my desire to resist, but this feels so much more sensual. There’s no brute force here. The forces binding me are as ethereal as my own shimmering mist, and I can’t even struggle. It’s so freeing to be so helpless, to know that Miss Corvi, Nina, is in complete control of my destiny. Mmmm . . . and she wants me to be a star.

I can hear her breathing hotly into my ear, and it makes my essence tremble. Even her breathing has such a strong affect on me. She radiates control. “You even yield so well to our . . . initiation process. As you can feel, it’s quite painless, and don’t worry about your ruined clothing. We’ll be handling your new wardrobe.”

Ruined clothing? The way she says it gives me images of it being so sweat-and-sex drenched that they had to peel it off of my body. New wardrobe? Mmmm, she really has thought of everything.

“So I like to call this part of the process ‘contract negotiations’. Of course, as you must be aware, you’re in no position nor with any desire to make any demands of me. But, depending on just how cooperative you are, we can design it in a way much more mutually beneficial. I feel this offer of involvement lets that last little part of some girls that may want to argue just . . . go away.”

Goddess, so much of her voice. That’s the most I’ve ever gotten to hear her speak. There’s something so regal about the way she sounds. If I have to be owned, commanded, broken by a voice, I want it to be hers. Hers is the voice of Queens. I’ve written songs about her voice without knowing it.

Mmm . . . Sarah told me about the pretty voices that used to sculpt her mind. None of them were like this. Miss Corvi radiates with everything they could have only wished to be.

Fingers tease along my shoulders. I can only feel my body when she touches me. If I get any wetter I might drown. “Soon I’m going to let you speak. It will not be to tell me what you think of this, or to ask for anything that would make all of this perfect for you. It will be to answer my questions. If you are a good girl, and honest, you will enjoy your time here so much more. Trust me. You’re not the first woman I’ve signed to our label. You won’t be the last. Only your material, and your performances, will be unique.”

That shouldn’t sound so thrilling, but it is. It burns and shudders its way into the core of everything I am. Something about her voice, it feels like the volume for it inside my mind gets turned up so much louder than my own thoughts. The effect is so amazing. The inside of my mind is so acoustic. I can hear a rainbow of sounds in each syllable.

Most of all, I hear what she wants me to hear. I hear what is my truth for as long as I am in her employ, which I hope will be a very, very long time. I hear her sincerity. Every word she says, she means with every fiber of her being. That adds to her volume, too.

“Now, we’re going to give you back your voice. Tell me, even knowing what you now know, you still want to be a part of Soaring Phoenix Records, don’t you?”

“Y-y-yessssss . . . So fucking much . . . Maybe even more. Easier. Simpler. Want it. Please.” It feels like it’s been years since I’ve heard my own voice. The sound is almost shocking. I can feel my lips move when I speak, but as soon as they close they disappear again. They’re my words. They’re the words right from my soul. I want this so goddess blighted much.

Miss Corvi’s voice sounds out not in words but in amusement. Just a sound, muted, soft, but enough to send shudders through what little of me I can sense. I can feel that wet aching damp sensation that must be between my legs even if I can’t feel the flesh experiencing it.

She doesn’t make another sound, at least not soon enough for me. Silence. Almost painful silence, if not for that sweet song that wraps around and through me. Has it gotten louder, or is it just the silence? I’m not sure. I like it, though. It’s a pretty song. It sounds like just one instrument, one I’ve never heard, and it’s so amazingly harmonious. It makes everything feel better.

“Intriguing. I must say, that’s a new one. Perhaps you will be more unique after all. You are just what we’ve been looking for. And you’ll work for me, paid only in appearance. Can’t have anyone being suspicious. There has to be a paper trail. But, working for Soaring Phoenix makes you company property. Company property has every physical need taken care of.” Her finger traces my wet, dripping slit and I feel it more intensely than I ever have before. I can feel every nerve in my pussy firing a thousand times better than the best they’ve ever felt. “Agreeable, my little nebula?”

“Yes! Oh yes! Your little nebula! Soooo agreeable!” Miss Corvi using my mothers’ nickname for me, a sweet innocent nickname, when she’s being so dirty is so wrong, and it sends me sprawling over the edge. I can feel my whole body for one long blissful moment as the orgasm sears through me. “Your . . . nebula.”

“Such an agreeable little slut. You know most girls are still struggling, right now? Most women, they’re still arguing. At least inside. At this point? Most women are only starting to grow wet as the song warps their perspective. Either you have no resistance to music, or you wouldn’t even need the song.” She sounds so pleased! That makes me feel so, so amazingly good. Want her feeling good. Love it. “I’m guessing both. Mmmm, some women own stars. I own a nebula. Don’t I?”

Her finger keeps stroking. My lips try to move to form words, but it’s so much. It takes so long, so long of hearing my own whimpers and moans mingle with the song, so long that I already feel on the edge again, but I finally manage to cry out a response. “Yessssss! You own a nebula! Don’t need the song, but love the song . . . want it, want you . . .”

She laughs and it’s such a musical sound. She sounds so happy. More than happy, she sounds almost . . . almost ecstatic. I could cum again just like this. I might. It’s hard to tell, my mind and body feel so erotically confused. It’s so much easier to just follow where things go than to try to guess where they might go next. I just know I’ll love it no matter what.

“Want me, hmm? I guess it’s true what they say about Midas City after all.” I wouldn’t know. I wish I knew what they said so I could tell her how right she is. I’d love to just agree, but it would serve her best to be honest.

Still, she seems happy. She seems nearly delirious. I wish I could see her smile. It must be so enchanting when she’s this happy. I want to lose myself in her eyes.

“You want me, even as right now, you, and I, and the lovely music are tearing away the last little bit of your free will? You want me even as I capture you out of the night sky itself to be my slave?” She punctuates each question with a thrust of her finger.

The third sends me back over the edge. It’s so strange, feeling my body just as long as I can hold onto this perfect feeling of obedient orgasm, but that makes it even more special. It’s so amazing. “Yesss!”

“Perfect. I don’t see any reason to stretch this out. I’m going to turn up the volume on the song. It’s going to get a lot louder. It’s going to stay on for awhile, and I’m going to leave you all alone with it. When you wake up, it will be in clothes we’ve chosen, and you’ll be a full-fledged employee. Normally, I actually leave the room, but for you, I think I’ll watch.” Special. Once again, for her I’m special.

Afterglow tingles through my mind so soothingly. I could just drift away into oblivion right now, and I don’t think I’d mind at all. I might be able to say more, but I don’t try. I don’t want to. I love this feeling of silence sans that perfect . . . oh . . . it is getting louder.

Every sweet little note feels as beautiful as the ripples a water drop makes when it falls into a crystal pool. That’s how they make . . . mmmmmm . . . my mind feel, too. Every little note . . . splashes down . . . and arching out from it is just bliss, erotic surrender pushing everything away so much stronger than anything else ever could. Music. Such sweet perfect music.

So many drops, all at once. They’re coming from everywhere, washing over me, washing so much away. They don’t leave me clean, they stain me, stain me deep, and I love it. I love it more than I could ever hope to describe. This is paradise.

An ocean of obedience fills my mind, pushing beyond its boundaries, and I sink right down to the bottom.