The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Rust’s home feels sacred.

In a lot of ways it reminds me of the Temple of Athena, but it’s not really the same at all. The lighting in the temple was an attempt to recreate sunlight. Here, it’s more mood lighting that makes me feel like every room is just the way Rust wants it to be. The mingling of silver and red makes this place feel so special. It’s so hard to put to words when all I want to do is keep rubbing my face into her chest.

“Such a darling little thing, you are. It takes so little to tug you into line, doesn’t it? If I wasn’t so entirely aware of its inherent limitations I would almost ponder if this were inherited from magic laced through your mother.” Rust’s red fingernails slide through my hair, teasing with faint little pricks of heat.

“Mmm yess, Rust!” I’ve seen what those nails can do, but it’s so hard to be upset about the marks she left on Sylvia’s breasts. I just want to feel the same caress of her nails again and again until I can’t remember ever not knowing them.

She laughs and I don’t even try to keep myself from shuddering. Making her laugh like that makes me feel like I really am her sweet little dawn. I want to be, so much. Every taste of her hot searing red only makes that stronger. It doesn’t feel artificial or shallow – it’s not like she’s telling me that’s how to feel. She’s just letting me awaken to it. She’s like a teacher, or a skilled older lover.

There’s nothing about either of those things that isn’t both soothing and a turn on.

Her lips press to the top of my head, making me thankful for the height difference all over again. Her lips burn against me. Sweat drips down along my back. I can feel my hair stuck to the back of my neck with so much of her red. I’d still take so much more and not even think of complaining.

“You have such a blissfully quiet mind. Smooth as your metal, and as evenly flowing as your silver. Such a gifted young woman, and yet not burdened by it. How would you like to be my student, Aurora?” Normally being told my mind is quiet would worry me, but it doesn’t with her. She doesn’t mean it the way I would. Coming from her it’s nearly euphoric. I want to be as quiet as I can for her, but I don’t even need to work at it to be just the way she wants me. At least, not like that.

“Please, Rust! I’d love to learn anything that you want to teach me!” Distantly I can still feel how wrong this is. She’s the woman who kidnapped Sarah. She kidnapped Sylvia and then showed up with her not even caring how much she was just showing off her body like an unwanted trophy. That should make me furious. I should be struggling tooth and nail to pull away from her, but I’m not. She chose me, and that feels more important than her abandonment of Sylvia. “Anything to make you smile.”

Even if I can’t see her lips, I can feel them curl against me. Even if the pulse of her red isn’t one that overwhelms with pleasure, earning more of that sweet red holds a promise of fulfilling its so much less than gentle pleading. It’s a burning, aching reminder that she wants so much more of me.

I don’t know how else to put it to words.

When her lips pull back she moves a hand to my cheek. It hardly feels like my head tilts until our eyes meet. After so many years of looking into Sylvia’s with their mixed colors there’s something so special about Rust’s. So different, but both so deep and so promising of such different things. “Delightful. Your current really is quite powerful, you know. If I didn’t have so much experience feeling it in its rawest form then you might have stopped me there in the temple you know. I’ll doubtless find a better time to tell you more, but for now, I think it’s time someone teach you another use for that sweet current running through my dawn’s heart.”

I swear I feel myself melt a little more every time she calls me that. Her dawn. I’m her dawn. I hope I never forget how it feels for her to call me that. I just want her to say it again and again and again.

The best part of that red of hers is the way that it makes me need her so intensely that it makes every touch, every word, feel like it’s the first time. I’ve had my memories sealed away, erased, altered, and any combination, but having them all right there and still feeling like a kiss is the first kiss I’ve ever felt is so beyond special.

“If that’s what you desire, Rust!” Counter Spell has tried to be helpful with my magic, but she says its so different from the way she uses her own that it’s difficult for her to even quantify. The chance to learn more, and for her, is enticing.

“And that it is, my sweet little dawn. There’s so much to teach you, but without a starting point I hardly think I’d get you further than my bed.” I’m not sure if she means to cuddle and sleep or if she means to fuck. There’s something about her being ambiguous when all of her words feel so perfectly chosen. She isn’t expecting me to know. She wants me to be curious. She wants me to wonder.

Every time I can feel that I’m being what she wants the red feels that much sweeter. It makes it easier to know that as long as I obey her she’ll give me more of that need and fulfill it in the act of giving.

Her arms slowly pull away from me, and as much as it aches I will myself still. It would be so much easier to cling to her but so much less perfect. I don’t want to disappoint her so quickly. Just the thought of making her unhappy makes me feel colder than being without her touch. Its easier to feel the red burning inside of me without her touch. It’s too easy to imagine how intense that red could become.

“Magic, for a LaSilvas, is such a simple thing. Silver is a powerful, versatile magic. It’s core strength, is that at its core, it is a catalyst. Mutable. Suppressible. And yet, it has such lovely properties of its own. For it can extend that mutability to reality itself.” Her words feel so far over my head, but I can’t help myself from listening in rapt fascination.

I try to write notes in my mind with just my thoughts. Catalyst. Mutable. Suppressible.

“Of course, if more than just the raw uses of your power were simple, you would have discovered them all on your own. Reality bends easily, but it does not yield without the proper seduction. Reality has us all under her thumb, after all. If you want it to give you what you desire for merely a piece of what it’s given you then it must be given in such a way as to make it irresistible. Close your eyes, my dawn.” I close my eyes without even finishing the thought. “Now I’m going to do this for you the first time, but I want you to focus on how it feels. There are words to it yes, but don’t listen to them.”

I nod. Magic is seducing reality. There are words, but she wants me to focus on the other aspects instead. Catalyst. Mutable. Suppressible. I think it’ll be better if I just try to internalize everything than make notes. All of the red staining my mind deeper the less she holds me makes my brain’s handwriting so much harder to read.

Her voice takes a low mumbling quality, but it’s so hard to focus on the words when I know she doesn’t want to. It’s so much easier to feel the air around my body ripple and shudder. It almost feels like there’s someone just around me, quivering as her power sizzles in the air. On closer focus it’s less like there’s a person around me, and more like there’s a presence. It feels a lot like the way I can feel Sylvia’s pleasure when I stretch out my silver through her, only its less tangible. It’s more like an idea of the feeling made so abstract it’s hard to call it the same thing.

Warmth slides along my uniform, and I can feel it making the fabric tingle against my skin. The material changes, feeling less solid and firm, and more smooth. It feels so much more sexy, and not because of the rippling around me. It feels like the kind of fabric that’s too thin without being too sheer, looking too much like lingerie for most women to wear it in public.

As private as it is wearing this here with her, if Rust wanted I’d go with her anywhere wearing anything.

The feeling ends after it traces along my boots. It feels different there, but I think it would be weird if my boots suddenly felt like they were made of silk or velvet or whatever sexy fabric my top and shorts are made of now. Even my cape and gloves feel changed, and the slightest movements of my fingers feels so much sweeter.

“Open you eyes, dawn.” They open almost before her words leave her lips. “Look at your clothing, Aurora. Look, and see how those sensations manifested.” My uniform used to be white. White cape, white top, white shorts, white gloves, white boots, but now they’ve changed. Red, glittering red and instead of their formerly starchy and powerful look they’re soft, looking like glittery satin. My nipples stand out so obviously against my top, and yet it still holds my breasts up and together as tightly offering the same eyeful of cleavage.

My boots still look made of a stronger material, but the block heels are pointier, and the cut overall looks more raw and sexy. Just standing sends a tingle up both of my thighs. She dressed me up in red, just like she did with Sylvia.

I’ve never felt sexier.

“And this spell is so very simple. I’m sure you’ve seen your mother use it before, changing some small detail of her uniform or changing from one outfit to the next without taking off a single stitch of fabric. Just a simple matter of seducing reality to your will. In time, I’ll teach you the words. I’ll teach you how to reshape, and remake fabric so simply that it will make you wonder why you never learned it before. Yet already, I believe you begin to feel, and understand what I said so much more, don’t you?” Yes, goddess yes, a million times yes! I nod my head as powerfully as I can, just nodding again and again and again until another delighted laugh rolls from her lips. “Perfect!”

Perfect. She called my reaction perfect. My thighs squeeze together so tight it makes me wonder if I’ll burn a hole through my newly remade shorts. They feel tighter, too, but only in a way that makes me sure if I looked closer it would be so easy to see the shape of my lower lips under the material.

I feel so slutty dressed like this. No ordinary woman would dress herself like this. No woman who wanted to inspire thoughts of justice or heroism would wrap herself up in fabric that does more to highlight her tits and her pussy like this.

But I am, I love it, and I want so much more.

“Of course, there are many spells, many ways of twisting magic that demand so much more than mere words and a little energy. Crossing between Sanctuary and your world for example is a much more significant task, but such magic is hardly the thing for an early lesson.” Every word she speaks feels like it vibrates hotly through my clothes, making them cling so much tighter in all of the right places. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep everything she’s said together in my mind, but she makes it so simple by making it feel so good.

Rust could teach me anything and make it feel effortless to learn. Every word sliding through my ears is like a teasing fingertip along my thighs. I want to feel more. I need to feel more.

It makes it even better to know that the more I learn from her the more that I’ll be able to obey.

“Even just going from one place,” Rust’s body presses into my back as her fingertips tease just above the waistband of my shorts. “To another . . .” Her nails tease just under my shorts, making me suck in a sharp gasp before they trail up over my tummy. “Can take such effort. Even in the same room. When a LaSilvas makes it look effortless, you’ll notice they don’t do so in short succession. It’s something that must be prepared in advance, as must so many of out powerful magics.”

It makes so much sense. I’ve never heard of mom teleporting around like other people would walk, and I know she can teleport. I’ve seen her do it. She said she was going to teach me these sorts of things, but we never got to it. Mostly because I left Midas.

Because I raped Sylvia.

Only Rust’s nails teasing under the beginnings of my top makes it so I’m capable of ignoring the chill racing through my spine. “I understand, Rust. Preparation can be important.” Rust has always seemed so prepared. Maybe that’s the secret. I’m always just rushing into things and counting on so many little things to pull me through.

If I had more contingencies, more things planned for if things went south . . . It makes me think of Hope and all of her little gadgets. They always took her so much effort to make but then she was ready the next time something happened.

“Yes, yes it is my sweet little dawn. But more than merely preparing in advance, putting ones energy, ones desire to a task before they surrender themselves to that moment of need, this magic is lacing our natural talents with things learned through years of experience and experimentation.” Energy courses out from her fingertips, hot aching red cupping my breasts under the soft red material. It almost feels like the red in my uniform is conducting more of her warm sharp red energy. “Spirit, will, talent, none of these things are important without wisdom. Without knowledge.”

I’ve been able to keep my body still until now, but with so much red tracing tight warm spirals around my nipples I can’t keep my hips still anymore. They keep bucking and rocking on their own. Maybe they’re trying to grind into the fabric holding them so sweetly tight. My shorts are so tight ans so soft they almost feel like hands on my ass.

“Y-yes, Rust! Knowledge! Wisdom! Can’t just count on things to work out, not any more! I-I’ve tried that for so long, but I’m not strong as you!” Even with my new metal I couldn’t stop her. If I had more tricks, more abilities than just throwing myself at a problem I might have stood a chance. Wracked in orgasmic need I’m so fucking glad that I didn’t, but if it was someone other than Rust I might not be so happy to lose.

“That’s right, my sweet little dawn.” Her hand grasps at my body, nails clawing across my skin as her energy clenches around my breasts. I scream, feeling my vision flash a passionate shade of red. Her shade of red.

I can’t remember ever feeling like this before. I’m so open, so vulnerable, and she’s making such perfect use of it. She isn’t using me like an object or throwing me down to fuck out my mind. She’s teaching me. She’s making me more with each feeling that makes it feel like part of the more I need is her. Nothing has ever been quite like this.

“More than being prepared because you know what will happen, being truly prepared is a matter of having a tool for each and every occasion. Being truly prepared, means being keenly attuned to what you can, and cannot do. Rushing in because you know you will succeed, is different, than rushing in because you think, or hope, that you can.” Silver twines with her red, almost feeling like ice made of pure light cooling the heat made by her red only for that same red to make me hotter for the silver light to cool me again.

Every touch of red she gives is a promise. As long as I please her, as long as I’m something that she desires, the need that she pulses through me will be fulfilled.

Epiphany really is such an intoxicating feeling!

Panting for each breath I clench my hands into fists. I can’t stop myself from rubbing back against her even if the curves of her body outlined in red just make me need it more the more I arch back. “Need to be sure, can’t just hope! C-can’t just cross my fingers . . .!”

“Precisely! Such a brilliant student you are, Aurora. Of course you learn so much more from failure than success, but such is merely the way of things. Without some fate to avoid, there’s no motivation, is there?” Her lips press to my other ear, hot breath teasing its way in just as red as her voice. “But I offer another brand of thought, for my sweet precious dawn.”

“W-what th-thought?” Making my lips move with the words on my tongue is so hard when my vision keeps clouding with dark hazy red. Pulses of silver sneak in, just bright enough to push the red feelings deeper. Just bright enough to make me grasp desperately as I can to hold on for more of her words.

When she laughs instead, the raw pleasure of such unrestrained joy makes my knees slam together loud enough to hear as I ruin my shorts with a sharp cry. “Within every success lies a failure that teaches us so much we can so easily fail to notice it. Wrapped in each feeling of joy we receive from something executed properly is the truth that in so short a time, it won’t be enough. We’ll need more. We’ll want more.”

Rust is such an amazing teacher. Even in the afterglow making my legs shudder and making it so hard to stay standing I can feel how much I still need her. I can taste how much I still would do anything to make her laugh like that again. I whimper something as close to a “yes” as my mouth will let me make.

“It is this failure in success that must drive us forward, this dissatisfaction within every moment of accomplishment that must remind s we are never as much as we could be. We have never done as much as we desire to have done. My sweet little dawn understands, does she not?” I nod, frantic and breathless as her lips kiss along my neck. “Good. So very good. I think this is the lesson that I could never teach your dear sister, at least not yet. Perhaps in time, you could aid in her education, mm?”

“I-if it would please you, Rust!” Rust. Only she could manage to make that word feel like it should be inherently sexy. Only she could make the thought of crumbling and ruined metal feel as sexy as the thought of slick thighs.

Slowly her crisscrossed energy pulls back into her nails, and her arms pull me back against her in a tight powerful hug. “And so you know it will, my sweet little dawn. And there is so much more to teach, technique, appraisal, any number of spells . . . but I think we’re forgetting something quite important that you’ve been waiting for so long to have.”

So muddled with afterglow and the comforting warmth of her body I can’t even imagine what she could possibly mean. There’s so much that I feel like I’ve been waiting for. She’s giving me magic like I’ve never had it before. She’s making me feel intelligent in ways I’ve never felt before. She’s making me feel . . . ambition? Potential? I’m not sure what the word is, but it makes me crave more even without the feeling of her red pulsing across my sensitive breasts.

I arch my neck to try looking up to her. As much as I want to be clever and alluring for her, I can’t know something that I don’t know.

Failure on the edges of success.

“Your mother, my dear. Lucia. She’s watched you for so long you know. I’ve let her see you at your lowest lows, watching you struggle against such impossible odds, just as I’ve let her watch your highest highs that could never last. Every step of your journeys of self discovery since her capture, she’s been there, watching you, whether she’s wanted to or not.” Rust slowly slides a hand up over my breasts before using a single finger to push my silver teardrop pendant down against my bare skin. “Of course, before today you imagined you’d be saving her. I’m afraid that won’t be a possibility.”

Letting my thoughts collect themselves, it isn’t really my pendant at all. I’ve been wearing it for what feels like forever, but it was someone else’s first. I’ve just been wearing it.

It’s Sarah’s necklace, chain and all. I’ve squeezed it when I’ve needed to feel stronger. I’ve squeezed it when I’ve needed to feel like I was a little less alone and imagined that Sarah could feel it. At first I thought it would somehow lead me to her. I’d felt her through it. I heard her through it.

Then nothing.

At first I worried she might really need it back. It was part of how Lida helped keep her alive when she didn’t have her sparks. Now it’s been so long that if she really needed it it’d probably be too late. Maybe if anyone has started needing this thing, it’s me.

Her red flaked nail traces slow patterns across the center of the teardrop. I’ve wanted to see her for so long. I’ve needed to see her so long. If Rust has her then that means I need to get through Rust to let Sarah free, but it’s so hard to be sure that I still want that. Taking down Rust would mean no more of her embrace. Defeating Rust would mean no more of her lessons. There’s so much she still has to teach me, I can feel it.

Flecks of orange-red start to follow the path of her nail, and I can’t quite tell if it’s cutting into the silver or forming over it. Silver dust falls slowly to the floor, but something about it looks and feels so unreal. Every little particle looks as much made of metal as it does made of light.

It’s like watching silver snow fall, only much less fluffy.

“It won’t be a possibility, because the Aurora that’s going to meet with Lucia is not the same Aurora that’s been searching for her. It’s really just that simple.” Her nail flicks away at a piece of the silver fully outlined in red, and it slowly falls away exposing more red underneath. The sigh makes me feel dizzy, and if Rust weren’t holding me I’d be falling.

Maybe I’m falling anyway, just not hitting the ground.

Piece by piece she isolates bits of the silver pendant by surrounding them with red, and then just like before, flicks them away. Each time my eyes lose their focus, and my knees feel a little less like they’re strong enough to hold me upright.

Each time I feel a little weaker, a little further away. “I can’t have some stray second thought stealing my sister away, after all. She’s going to help us forge a new future together. She might just be a key to a door, but oh what a door it is. So, I’m just going to get rid of the parts of my dawn that won’t let the sun rise on our new beautiful future. How does that sound?”

“I-it ss-s-sounds . . . Good?” It’s so hard to be sure what the answer is, or what she wants me to say. So I just say the first words that come to my lips. Good. Does it sound good? Why would it sound bad? Everyone likes the sun rising, why would I want it to stop? I’m the dawn. I’m not the moon or something silly like that.

Flick.

Another piece of silver spins away down to the ground. How she manages to make such small pieces of metal feel so huge I don’t know, but I can feel it. Each piece spinning away is big enough to blot out the sun.

How can they be so big but be flickable by her nail without breaking it? How could they fit on mom’s pendant?

Flick.

Everything turns into blurry colors as my eyes cross on her nail. I feel lighter than air but somehow that if I fell I’d break through the floor and keep going forever. My thighs feel so slick, but I can’t remember why.

Is there something I’m supposed to be doing? Someone I’m supposed to be-

Flick.

“R-rust!” I can’t make my eyes focus. No matter how hard I fight against the fuzziness that’s floating around inside of me I can’t make it go far enough away for there to be anything solid. Every moment feels suspended in gel that slicks away for more to take its place.

The more I struggle to understand how and why the more that red lines cut across my vision and-

Flick!

I’m not even being held up by Rust’s arm. It’s the pendant. I can feel energy in the chain laced through me, silver and red twining from where the chain meets the back of my neck all along my spine. It doesn’t feel like it’s fused, more like it’s connected, like some sort of wireless connection only magic instead of tech.

My feet slide along the floor, pointy heels clicking against the floor with each attempt to regain my footing. It’s no use. I don’t have the coordination. I don’t have the strength to stand on my-

Fl-ick.

Everything is swimming in a sea of hazy red, like a distant road on a too sunny day. Waves of red heat ripple and dance in the air, but they’re not out there. They’re in me. They’re in my eyes. They’re in my mind.

I look down. There’s only one small patch of silver left. Everything else is red. Dim, glowing red.

“This last piece is waiting on you. Aurora. Say the word. I know you can. Oh, it won’t be simple, but the best things never are. Say the word, and I’ll dispel the last pieces of the Aurora that would try setting your poor mother free. Then you can see her again.” Her nail slides just under the edge, just enough to prop it up. “Say it, Aurora. Instead of red moon, help me make a red sun rise.”

My mind is racing through water without knowing how to swim. I try to think, to process, as fast as I can but there’s so much pushing back against me. There’s too much rippling. Every time my feet feel like they’ve found something it feels like the floor is at a ninety degree incline.

I try to reach back for her, for something to hold onto, something to steady myself, but my arms aren’t strong enough to lift. Every time I try they only rise enough to slam into my hips. It’s getting harder to see the outlines of things through the plasma hot red.

Just one word.

All I have to do is just say one last word and everything gets better. Everything goes away that would stop me from giving her what she wants. Everything becomes like she wants it. Everything includes me, too.

“Flick!”

The last piece of silver floats up in the air, but it doesn’t just fall away into oblivion with the other pieces. This piece bleeds a blood red from its center until the whole piece is as red as Rust’s eye. It’s so red it almost hurts to look at through the wave film of red heat wrapped around my insides.

When it hits the stone floor it crumbles into infinite smaller pieces.

Rust’s nail pulls away from the pendant, and I fall. My legs move instinctively to try making the landing rock through my knees, but their orientation is all wrong. They slide one way and the other, making me land in a sloppy incomplete rendition of the splits.

Spineless I fall back once my thighs kiss the stone under me, my head ending up on Rust’s boots.

Slowly colors start to bleed through the red, but not because the red’s going away. Like taking a shower in water that’s just too cold, my eyes feel like they’re adapting. My head feels like it’s adapting.

“When you can stand, it will finally be time for your reunion, my precious little dawn. Until then, savor the loss of your innocence. You only get to feel it once.” Red wind brushes through my hair, and when I look up I can see Rust’s fingers glowing red as they stroke the air so far above my head. “Tarnish can just be soothed or rubbed away, but rust dissolves and breaks things apart. Like a dropped glass sculpture, nothing is quite be the same again.”

My lips curl into a tired smile, and I slowly nod. Right now it’s still too hard to even push off against the floor. I can’t imagine standing like this.

So instead I close my eyes, and do just as she suggests.

The inside of my metal eyelid looks like the same jagged and bumpy red my pendant looked like. It doesn’t hurt at all. It’s just the way it is.

I splay my fingers out against the stone floor to feel how firm and strong it is. This stone used to be jagged and rocky somewhere deep underground, or inside of a mountain. Something chipped it away and smoothed it away and now it’s so much stronger. Now it feels ageless, even if it’s only older for the experience. It feels strong, so it is strong.

One of my fingers brushes a piece of fallen silver. My lips quirk into a frown, but all it takes is a faint flick and it’s gone forever.