The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Wow, uhm . . . Leora LaSilvas, huh?” Silver hair looks amazingly pretty in curls. Leora is definitely not in any way amused. I can’t say I blame her. “Uhm . . . nice to meet you! I guess that explains why you were pretty surprised that I didn’t know who you were, huh?”

“Yes. Let me through, I need to see how skillfully you two managed to damn us all.” I step aside, but she’s already moving. It’s hard to believe she wouldn’t have just tried walking through me. Did she know I was going to move? Precognition isn’t something that any of the LaSilvases I know have, but maybe that’s her special defining trait.

Then again, if she was precognitive she probably could have stopped this from happening.

She stops beside the stand, her eyes narrowed at the floating red orb. “Lovely. Absolutely lovely. You gave her the Wardens. How she corrupted Zandra I have no clue, but this, this is entirely too clear.”

This is just as bad as I thought. I don’t like the way that sounds. Each of those Wardens is probably just as powerful as Zandra. It makes me wish that we’d brought Lys’s me-bots with us. If anything would be nice to have about now it would be backup. That or Sylvia. If that red bitch has her . . . well I’m sure she does. If isn’t even worth saying. Rust has Sylvia, and Sarah.

“Well it wasn’t like we meant for this to happen!” Getting upset isn’t constructive. It’s just impossible to avoid it. “I’m sorry, really . . . Can we fix it? A barrier rose up so I don’t know how it worked to do it, but it didn’t seem too complex.”

“No.” Leora shakes her head. “There’s no way we can just ‘fix’ this. Observe.”

If she isn’t precognitive, she at least seems to be good at reading people. I wouldn’t believe her without some explanation. She reaches out her hand for the orb and a pillar of red light forms around it knocking her hand back. She rubs her hand with an irritated frown. That looks like it hurt.

So the Wardens are probably going to be something to plan on fighting against. Great. I was able to beat the dawnling golem-bots but only because of their power source. Taking on all of the Wardens . . . where would I even start?

There has to be a way. What it is I don’t know, but there has to. Sylvia was able to overpower Zandra, even if she wasn’t defeated. Maybe that’s the trick. Staight, head on assault . . . but how many Wardens could I stop before they’d have me hanging from the ceiling? Two? Five? That’s not even taking Rust into account.

I slump back against the nearly empty bookshelf with a sigh. “So we can’t just make it the way it was. Got it. Is there any way we can . . . disable that? Like . . . turn it off? Maybe . . . sever its connections to the Wardens? Make it so if we can’t reset them back to the way they were, that they won’t be her’s either?” If this is what kept the Wardens helplessly obedient to The Council then shutting it down sounds a hell of a lot better than putting it back the way it was anyway. Of course I don’t really want to say that to the head of The Council.

“No. At least, there’s no way that I know of. It’s laced through Sanctuary itself. That’s how it works so well. It binds the Wardens to the air itself, and then back to The Council. Or at least it did.” Some of the intensity of Leora’s frown fades as her eyes raise from the orb to meet mine. “It’s really a pleasure to meet you like this. You chose a perfect time to drop in and make yourself helpful.”

She looks so young. Her eyes have a depth to them that make her look like she has to be older than me, but then a bounce in her curls or how soft her face looks or her voice that makes her should younger than me. I feel so out of my element.

“Look, I really am sorry Leora. Sarah’s been missing for a long time now and we were just trying to get her back. Look . . . Here, I’ll tell you everything.” And I do. I tell her everything I can remember Zandra telling us . . . but I don’t stop there. I tell her why we trusted Zandra. I tell her all about how if she hadn’t shown up there was no way we would have been able to stop Yana.

I tell her how long we’ve been searching for Sarah. I tell her each and every lead that I’ve followed and all of ones Sylvia’s mentioned. It doesn’t take long, but it feels like a small eternity.

When all that’s done, I lift up the book I found on the Wardens, and toss it at Leora’s feet. She raises the toes of her black leather boots as it nears, resting her foot on top of it. “Then I came here. And I found this. So I’m not exactly thrilled or anything about helping Rust, but . . . That didn’t really make me thrilled about the status quo either.”

“You make a fair point.” Leora lifts her foot off of the book and the edge of her boot starts to glow. Her foot slides back down, but the book flips up into the air for her to casually grab onto the spine. “There’s little I like about the Wardens either. They’re a tradition from a different time. It was probably just as abhorrent then, but that didn’t make it any better now. Worse, really. But I don’t think you understand just what sort of state our world is in. We’ve only had any form of order for roughly twenty years. Fixing these sorts of problems doesn’t happen overnight.

“When your mother defeated Nesatealia, the first thing that we rushed to do was reestablish authority. Justice that was more than ‘The strong rule the weak.’ That exists again.” Leora tosses the book to the side with an annoyed growl. “It was just a matter of time before the practice would be abolished . . . Rust couldn’t have chosen her timing better.”

We were just pawns in her stupid game. “Then how do we stop her? She’s got herself an army specifically geared up to be able to take us down, and the only person pretty much born to stop her captive.”

Leora shrugs. That’s all she does. Dressed like a general, but just as clueless as me. Great.

The doors are open, but it almost feels like it may as well be shut. That’s not true, I know that, but it’s hard to shake the feeling. What’s a girl supposed to do?

“There’s gotta be more than that. She said she was my aunt, the daughter of Yanuka Nesatealia and Lida LaSilvas. Is there any way that we could use that somehow? Any way that knowing that could help us? Is there any way we can use that to figure out what her game is, and maybe stop her?” It seems pretty obvious that she’s planning on trying to take over Sanctuary or return it to the way it was when there were the Nesatealia, but that’s not something we can try to stop.

Not without knowing more, anyway.

Leora shrugs again. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully, but she still just shrugs again. “Yanuka . . . The only daughter I ever heard she had was the one you call Quillspawn now. A black haired Nesatealia, no less. That’s be like a green haired LaSilvas. It just doesn’t happen.”

I want to scream “ah-ha!” but that’s not enough to run with. There has to be something there. “Maybe Yana is the piece we need to tie all this together. Zandra took her to make sure there wouldn’t be another Quillspawn incident.”

“She never made it to a cell in Sanctuary.” Leora throws up her hands with a frustrated groan. “That has to be when she got Zandra for whatever process she used to make her an agent against The Council. She’d been gone much longer than you described. I was trying to figure out what good more time time would do for someone trying to corrupt a Warden. It isn’t supposed to be that simple. And even then, to know about the seal . . .”

The Wardens were created to hunt down rogue witches who were using their powers to enslave others. There has to be some explanation for this that we’re missing. Something about Sarah?

Frustrating. This is so fucking frustrating! I give the bookshelf a hard kick and grumble under my breath. “Well this is fucking beautiful. So we just wait around for Rust to do whatever she wants to do? Isn’t there anything you know? I’ll find some way to stop her with or without your help, but I barely know anything about this damn place!”

“Well I know one thing we can do.” Leora smiles inspite of herself. Its wistful and sad more than happy. She steps closer and I almost flinch away before she rests her hand on my shoulder. “There’s no use staying here. Any place would be better. Rust made a show of her Wardens and then vanished in the streets. The rest of The Council are too scared to come out of their homes. Unless there’s something here we want or need, being here isn’t going to do us any good.”

I slump forward into her hand with a sigh. Nothing feels like an option. “You’re right, you’re right . . . of course you’re right. Lead the way.”

Lida and Sarah kept us away from this place thinking that it would help keep us safe. I can’t help but feel if I knew anything at all about Sanctuary before today besides the kind of stories you’d tell to a little girl I’d be doing a lot better off. Leora starts her way up the stairs and I follow close behind. Silver hair. Silver eyes. I used to want that to be like Sarah when I wasn’t wanting to be more like Olivia.

Now I’m in a place where its so much more common but the people I want with it are so out of reach. There’s some word for this feeling, but whatever it is, it makes me want to punch someone in the throat.

“Now, my dear niece, I think that this look suits you so much better. Don’t you agree?” Rust’s voice echoes through my ears and my mind. Not long ago she’d instructed me to undress, and again she didn’t touch me. I’m certain she watched me, or at least I hope she watched me, but I never felt her hands or her lips. It’s almost agonizing. No, it is. Just being close to her is so horribly teasing.

Even if she wasn’t watching me, she definitely saw me. She dressed me herself. Her hands never once brushed my bare skin. She’s too good at that. She’s so detached.

I look down, twisting to see all of the clothes. Red robes. They’re a little boring if anything honestly, trimmed here and there with silver. Unlike every other uniform someone in control has given me, they’re too . . . modest. My curves are hidden away like a diamond in a museum. That sounded so much more egotistical than I feel.

“They feel . . . Unimpressive.” I can’t keep the displeasure from my voice. Can she feel how I’m feeling like I can feel her? Aurora always could, but she’s special.

“Perhaps they are, mm?” Rust raises an eyebrow. “But they are traditional. A lot of women think them dull, but they are so easy to remove. More than that, they’re a symbol of tradition. They’re a symbol of power. There’s still so much to teach you, so much for you to prove. Would it suit for you to be wearing something truly impressive?”

Suddenly, I feel terrifyingly impatient. Like an overcharged battery eager to burst and spill fluid everywhere, I have this intense need to do something. What, I don’t know. It isn’t coming from her power. It’s coming from me.

I have to obey. That’s more important than feeling uncomfortable that she would insinuate I haven’t earned a reputation for being truly impressive. Quillspawn and Doctor Lys would disagree, but I guess she operates on a whole other level. It wouldn’t make sense for her to find them a worthy judge of my talents. I shake my head, glancing away from my aunt and down to the floor. “No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

Laughter echoes through the room. Her pleasure pulses in my mind, but it feels wrong. So satisfying yet I want more. Still there’s a taint of it not being quite what I want. Want doesn’t matter, but it’s there anyway. “Very good, Sylvia. Now, if you knew the simplest of magic, you could reshape your robes however you so desire. It would be simple. My dear sister does it hardly without a thought. A new look, a familiar old, its just a matter of will. Well, I did make that magic work less for her now to keep her in that costume as a lovely reminder, but my point is understood, mm? Your mother is terrible with magic, and even she currently surpasses you.“

“Yes, my dear aunt. I understand.” I know she’s right. Sarah couldn’t even teleport into a building when she came to rescue me from Miss Corvi. She had to fly in from the parking lot. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything close to that. I don’t even know where to start. Still, as much as I crave to obey the patronizing tone in her voice makes me itch.

The itch is like something in my mind clawing to get out. Something inside struggling at its cage. My lips purse, hands forming fists at my side before I even notice it. Red pulses across my vision, and my knees shake. My thighs feel slick, clenching all on their own. Red light, red power holding me so tight. I must obey. I must obey Rust. Nothing is as important as obeying Rust.

Lips press to my ear, warm lips humming with power that makes the touch sweeter and the red pulsing across the vision of my closed eyes sweeter. “Someone is displeased. Do you truly dislike the robes so much that you would defy my wishes?”

“No!” The answer is so obvious and powerful it tears its way out of my lips before I can fight to hold it back. “Nothing could make me do that! My desires are unimportant. I will obey you, Rust. I must obey.” I moan with the truth of my own words. I must obey. It’s not a choice. Whether I want to or don’t want to, it doesn’t matter. That make sit better. That makes it hotter. No Resistance. No struggle. There’s only a clear and obvious truth: whatever Rust desires I will do. What ever Rust desires must override my desires.

“Yes . . . you must my dear niece. Hmm. I wonder.” Rust steps slowly away from and I open my eyes to see her own wander slowly up and down along my body. How it could possibly entice her as much in this I’m not sure. Even the secretary outfit was more sensuous. “Kneel, Sylvia.“

Wordlessly I fall to my knees. My gaze stays locked with hers, watching her eyes for any sign of what she’s thinking. Distant curiosity is all that I can see. Her face is like a beautiful porcelain mask with mismatched eyes covered by too much hair. I wish I could see her eyes better, but her red eye is always covered by her hair unless she makes an effort to push those strands out of the way. Still, I kneel. My eyes watch her, eager, hopeful.

What I desire is a chance to obey. I want to see her pleased with me. And feel. I almost forgot that I could feel her red inside of me, pulsing like a foreign heartbeat. It’s just hard to concentrate on. I don’t know why. Magic never makes sense to me, I just know what I can do with mine.

“Hmm. You’re quite the curious girl, my dear Sylvia. Yana thought she could tame you too, didn’t she?” Rust slides her fingers through my hair before tugging it hard, pulling it back and forcing my eyes to look into hers. Her grasp is tight and unyielding. Even though I try to move with it instead of fight against it I cant be quick enough to stop the sharp hiss of pain that follows. Red pain and red desire aren’t close tastes in this moment.

“Y-yes. She did.” Her gaze is intense. Scrutinizing. The power in her eyes feels like a spotlight, as if the rest of the room gets darker outside of her gaze. “I mean yes, dear aunt, Yana did try to tame me.”

“And what happened to her, my dear, sweet, obedient niece?” She pulls my hair back tighter. Lower. It aches more intensely than it should for my hair to still be in my head. The red pulsing across my eyes feels like it should be something other than control.

My voice catches in my throat as all the saliva drains from my mouth. Between my legs feels so wet but my tongue could be a curled piece of scotch tape. Sticky but not wet. I whimper, confused with pain and a chance to obey so tightly twined in my mind. What is she doing to me?! “I . . . I m-made her . . . Sh-she ended up empty. I used her ink, sucked as much of her out as I could, and left her an obedient shell. Didn’t care if she’d ever think again. I just wanted, needed, more, and she was more!”

“Yes, yes she was, wasn’t she?” As much as I want to answer, she doesn’t really want one. Rust laughs, and it scares me as much as it turns me on. She feels so big, so imposing, and kneeling with my head bent back like this I feel so insanely small. Only one woman ever makes me feel this small and she’s usually the one kneeling for me. I don’t kneel. Even when I’m being controlled, I don’t kneel. “Yana Ritter . . . My mother’s favorite daughter. She gave her such a sweet gift. Such a powerful gift. So much greater than the gift she gave me. So much more... encompassing. And she did give it to her. Not like with me.”

A quick flick of her wrist, and somehow my body gives out from under me. I’m on my back, knees still bent, with Rust standing over me. She let go of my hair, but my head still hurts. It burns. The strangest feeling is how much I want more. It hurts that she tugged, but it hurts more that she stopped.

How could she stop when she knows I need more?! I cry out in agony while writhing on the floor. Her red is twined around the root of every hair she tugged. It burns and throbs with every breath I take, but even when I try to hold my breath it follows my heartbeat instead. Everything about Rust is so overwhelming, and in new ways every time I think I have her figured out.

I arch up my hips to try being closer to her when I find it impossible to do anything more. It doesn’t help. Nothing dims the crushing desire she’s overfilled me with. No matter how much of it leaks out between my thighs there’s still more to slickly drip.

“But all of that power wasn’t enough to stop her from falling prey to you, was it dear? Was it a poorly constructed sentence? A misplaced comma? Or did her powers and yours merely trigger some chain reaction?” I purse my lips and move my sandpaper dry tongue to try gathering enough spit to speak. The heat coming from her, from inside of me, is like being in the middle of a desert surrounded only by pretzels and beautiful women.

“She—”

“—None of that, my sweet little niece.” The toe of Rust’s boot presses up under my chin slamming my mouth shut. She doesn’t push very hard but it aches just like my hair. “No words. Not from you. Not right now. Now is a time for you to listen.”

Even though I haven’t tried to object she bends down over me and presses a finger to my lips. For just a moment it sparkles silver in the familiar perfect way Aurora’s sparks always feel, but then it changes. Aching, needful red pulses along the seam of my lips. Pain fills my vision with red as her energy starts to thread through my lips. It isn’t solid, but it still feels so intense. I can’t part my lips, but I can still scream through them.

I couldn’t hear her right now even if she was talking. I want to obey – I must obey – but feeling my lips trapped shut all I want to do is scream and babble incoherently. There are no words with any real substance that I want to say, but I want to speak.

As if taunting me Rust just keeps stroking her finger along my lower lip. The pressure makes it ache more, drawing so many cries from my lips. I just want to talk, to move my mouth, but I can’t!

Shaking her head beyond the veil of red over her eyes my aunt lets out a heavy sigh. “You aren’t listening, Sylvia. You have such a deep mind, with such depths of thoughts and ideas, and yet you have such difficulty following such simple instructions. I think I’m beginning to see why Yana had trouble with you. Perhaps its the reason both of my dear sisters have had such trouble with you.”

Oh how I want to scream actual words. She rests a second finger on my upper lip, pushing at them both as though to pull them apart. The red holds them both together, but makes the ache so much stronger. I couldn’t hold back my screams if she commanded me to.

I get it now! Rust didn’t mean to listen to her. She wanted me to listen to me. I let out a sigh of relief before another scream. At least now I understand, but I can’t tell her that!

“There it is, dear. Right there. Defiance. I fill your lips with need, and what do they do? Do they attempt so desperately to kiss my offered finger, or do they try ever harder to speak? There is much power inside of you, my dear niece. Perhaps more than you wish to fathom.” She draws her hand back, licking slowly along the tip before sliding it along the seam of my lips anew. The red inside of them bursts in silver bliss. Lips free, I let out another wordless cry. “You’d hardly be the first.”

Listen, that’s all I need to do. That’s all she’s told me to do, and doing anything else wouldn’t be obeying. My breath slowly quiets, as does my heartbeat. She’s trying to teach me something, but I can’t follow what it is. Her powers, that red, she’s at least confirmed what it is. She uses her powers so much more like Aurora does, using them apart when she wants, or together. I’ve been able to use one a little more or less, but they’re too twined together for me to separate them. I’ve never been able to just use a spark, or have mist without flecks of silver. Is that something she’d be able to teach me? I’m so confused, this isn’t what anyone ever does with me.

Quillspawn wanted to make me her daughter, but that didn’t stop her from fucking me. It only made her want me more. Rust is so different. All she wants to do is make me want, make me ache . . . I’ll obey every single whim, but I wont be able to understand it.

She pulls back, wiping her hand on her clothes. I don’t move from the floor. Even though I still need her so much. My pussy is still burning for her, for something, for anything. I’d reach down between my legs but it feels too much like that would be ignoring her commands. That’s not listening. I want to listen. I want to understand! I need to understand! Even when she isn’t using her powers that word seems to attach itself so easy to everything she does and says.

An eternity of squirming, rubbing myself down against the floor under me to try to calm these urges, she finally reaches down and wraps her fingers around my hand. She starts to pull me to my feet, and I help her until she lets go. I start to fall, and she catches my hand before I do. Somehow her body is so much closer to mine with such little time passing. I can feel her warmth again. I can feel her power again, arching across my body. Its just as easy for her to make that fulfilling silver as it is for her to make that cruel red. It makes more and more sense why she calls herself “Rust”.

Her other hand rests on my face, slowly caressing my cheek. “Yana was given the stronger gift. It’s undeniable. What is need next to rewriting a woman’s very mind? It’s a very impressive power. But even if she is my sister, and has such a stronger gift, which of us would you say is the stronger woman, or the more capable witch?”

“Y-you Rust! P-please, kiss me, fuck me, anything, plea—”

“I said listen, Sylvia. I didn’t tell, or ask you to beg. You don’t imagine such a thing would be difficult for me, do you?” I shake my head so quickly it hurts. Maybe if I give her everything she wants she’ll make this aching stop. It’s getting so hard to feel or remember anything else!

Instead she just holds me so close to the floor I can almost feel it under me just as much as I can almost feel her body against mine. No matter how hard I try to arch or twist I can’t get more of her. Listening to silence can’t give me more of her voice, and I need that just as much as I need more of her body. I need more of all of her. It would be so easy for her to give it, but she doesn’t.

With a quiet laugh Rust lets go, and I hit the floor. It doesn’t hurt, except for the unbearable agony of being further away from her. “Aurora took this far better than you, you know. Even when her metal could do nothing to stop my power making her ache so deeply, she still fought it so much better. And don’t think for one moment that I can’t feel just how much that mind of yours is still working away inside of your head. You’re obedient, yes, but you’re using that same obedience to try fighting your way through it. A gift of one sister, or the other? I wonder.”

I’m listening, but it’s getting so much harder to get any meaning from anything she says. The spaces between her words feel further and further apart and then when she stops its such deafening silence. My eyes are glued to her lips. There’s nothing of her to hear, how can I listen?!

“Poor thing . . . It almost seems cruel to keep you like this, doesn’t it? In so many ways you’re already too close to my goal for a solid attempt to even matter.” Now I’m not sure if I’d understand her words even if she’d just let me cum and get it over with. The meaning of each word, I remember those, but together, none of it makes any sense. What does she want?! I just want to obey, I need to obey, and all she’s told me to do is listen! “I suppose that means I’ll need to be more adaptive. I don’t think you’ll make a very promising pupil after all.”

She grins, and reaches into her cloak before withdrawing the red capped warden rod. Holding it in one hand she grabs the red gem with the other. Silver energy pulses and courses through it until the red color inside is slowly replaced. Before I can scream with how exciting it feels to know my anticipation is almost going to be fulfilled the gem presses between my eyes.

Hot, sizzling silver pulses through me as deep as her red. Hot, thumping, coursing through every nerve . . . I can feel it pulsing in my breasts, filling between my legs, arcing along my clit, and moving along every curve like long nails being dragged just roughly enough to hurt and feel so much better for it. It feels so different from Aurora’s silver. Its brighter, and so much more raw. It feels like I’ll never see another color again, be tasting silver from both sets of lips forever.

I scream, curling my toes hard as my body arches off the floor as the pleasure finally lets me cum.

“Let’s start over again, Sylvia. Don’t even bother trying to listen. Instead . . . let’s see if in of all this screaming you can sing, too.”