The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lifting the odd magical orb that Zandra gave me for this task with my power is so easy. It wants to move the way that I direct it. Magical light energy probably shouldn’t have any weight to it, but this feels more than weightless. Guiding it into the blue light is like holding out a petal in my palm and lightly blowing.

“Good luck, Sylvia . . .!”

Aurora’s voice sounds like it’s coming to me from another world, or through a tunnel. As soon as my power penetrates into that floating blue orb everything distorts. The blue light spilling over everything feels more solid, like it forms a barrier around the orb and me, keeping us in our own little world. The edges of my vision see nothing but solid blue.

I have to focus. There’s no room for me to hesitate or be uncertain, not now. The blue orb pulses and shimmers, wiggling and trembling in the air. I guide the silver and red orb into its center, and soon wisps of those colors, and my own purple, reach out to fill the inside of the blue.

More than just seeing it, I can feel it. It feels like it felt to fill Yana and Aniela with ink. I can taste the power fighting to keep me out. It isn’t like the bodiless presence of whatever force was in that Tiara. This feels alive.

The blueorb stretches, growing larger, wider as my power pushes harder against its borders. It’s shape doesn’t remain round, bulging more and more as I can feel its desperation rise. Just like the tiara, something about it feels feminine in a way I can’t put to words. As the wavy tendrils of my power pulse inside of the blue it feels more like a woman struggling and thrashing, trying as hard as she can to resist magic that she can’t possibly hope to beat. It reminds me of the way it felt to push my power through Nikki to make her yield through the song going through both of our minds.

Stop! Please!

Not a voice, more a thought I can feel shaking its way down my nebula and deep inside of my mind. More than just its thoughts or whatever they are, I can taste its purpose. I push the power into those words to slide in deeper, like finding just the right place to slip my fingers past an eager pair of lips.

Wardens, must protect them, must keep them obedient to their tasks. Must ensure their loyalty to the council. Safety of Sanctuary. Safety of the Council. Must keep them bound to the Council. Bound to their oaths.

I gasp at the intensity of the feeling. I’ve tasted thoughts, but never anything that felt so ancient or so powerful. Her thoughts feel like absolute truths that aren’t made for questioning. Not even by her. I’ve never tasted a mind that was only constructed of certain thoughts, with no chance for interpretation or disobedience. Maybe this intelligence is artificial, but it feels so much stronger than any mind I’ve ever felt before.

The shape of the orb starts to look more and more familiar, its shape growing extensions, curves, but it’s hard to focus on what I’m seeing over what I’m hearing with my mind. Blue is still the light sealing us away from the rest of the world, but only the shell is still blue.

Need to protect the Wardens. Need to protect The Council. Need . . . Need . . . Stop!

My body shakes with the intensity of the blue tinted words slamming into my mind. I can taste pleasure surging through the blue, and desire just as powerfully. It’s shape is starting to come into focus, a woman, with skin made out of blue translucent light. She has long flowing hair tied back into a long elaborate braid, but the rest of her form looks bare and smooth as only light can look.

Her eyes stare into mind, glowing intensely with my power and the trinket given by Zandra. Those swirling colors are dancing just beneath her skin, making it look so alluringly vibrant. She falls to her knees on the table, seemingly unaffected by its shape.

Her thighs shudder clenching as my power flows and courses through them. I can feel the intensity of her words growing softer, weaker as they’re drowned out by my own. I just need to focus one solid word into the center of all that this blue woman is.

Obey, Warden Seal, obey.

Must protect the Council. Must obey The Council. Must keep the Wardens bound to their oaths. Must . . . must . . .

A faint silver begins appearing in the eyes of the blue woman before me. Her lips tremble as her words fade into silence. It’s not a willful silence. Its struggling. Her whole body is clenching more and more, thighs pressed tight, body trying to curl in on itself, but its so hard for her not to arch with so much power shuddering through her. I can taste her devotion to the mantras inside of her growing further and further away.

She can’t resist me forever, no matter how hard she tries. A pleasant tremble rolls through her body as I push harder, twining my words ever deeper, ever tighter with her mind. She is already mine. She will always be mine. There’s no other way this will end.

Obey me, Waren Seal. Surrender to the power inside of you. You must obey. You want to obey. You need to obey!

Must protect . . . council . . . mmmm must obey . . . Sylv . . . Council . . . Must stay bound to . . . power inside of me . . .

Blue eyelids open wide, turning wholly silver as lines of that power begin to flow out along the lines of her face. Silver paints her cheeks, her lips, and starts to melt down along her hair as it melts down over her shoulders. Her form turns less translucent, more solid and physical the more silver it becomes.

Her back arches out, arms hanging limp at her sides. Her legs part as the red colors the puffy shape of her labia and then down along her legs. She lets out a sharp cry, and I can feel her pleasure shuddering back through my power.

Then all at once cracks begin to form along that silver filling her, becoming her. Bright points of red begin to form, eclipsing the silver entirely. It feels like an eternity, but it all happens in half a moment.

Must . . . obey . . . Rust!

Using the full force of all of the energy swirling inside of her, the seal slams those words right between my eyes. Rust. Must. Must obey Rust. Must . . .

I let out a loud cry as I fall to my knees. “Must obey Rust!”

It’s so hard to avoid trying to help Sylvia. As soon as the blue light wrapped around the table and Sylvia all I could see was well, blue. It must be some sort of defense system. I don’t understand enough about magic for any of this to make any amount of sense. Throwing myself at the same thought with the same information isn’t going to help me figure it out.

Its also pretty damn hard to avoid looking through any of the books in those shelves. Reading the spines can’t hurt, though. It gives me something to do.

Most of them are just spell books. It’d take me way too long to figure out which of them would be worth looking through, and even then I’m not really great at the whole magic thing. Sarah said she’d teach me the wardrobe spell she used some day, but that was about as far as it ever went. Lida offered to teach me more but I was always so concerned with living up to Olivia that it never sounded very appealing.

Sometimes it hurts to realize how stupid I’ve been.

Some of these books have titles like “The Raines” or “The LaSilvases” that make me so damn tempted to pick them up. They’re probably safe, just hidden away so no one gets all of the secret information the Council wants to keep for itself. Blackmail, history, things they wouldn’t want altered . . . that’s my bet, anyway. Monique would probably have a better idea than I would.

Monique would be useful to have here with us. So would my old team. Even Tunnel. Hell, even Hope would be good to have around. She might not know anything about magic but she isn’t bad at what she does. All of them and Counter would have been great. I wish we’d had the time.

Zandra should have found a way to give us more time. We’re lucky we even got here at all. The blue around Sylvia slowly gains arcs of silver, with smaller arcs of red and purple close behind. I guess whatever is happening inside is going well!

One of the books catches my eye. It has a very simple title: “The Wardens”.

This is probably dumb, but I have nothing else to do besides stand around and watch a barrier change colors. I think if this ends up dazing me it won’t be for long. If at all. I’m going to bank on it being safe. Why wouldn’t it be, really?

Like all of these books its bound in leather and it feels like there’s metal inside of the covers. The letters look really fancy, like each letter is made of the way the first word of some chapters look in fancier books. At first I thought that was just the cover, but when I open it up all of the words inside look just the same.

There’s a table of contents helpfully enough. It seems like pretty dry reading so far. Oaths of the Wardens. Armaments of the Wardens. Seal of the Wardens. That would be the stupid blue ball that Sylvie is making sure hasn’t been influenced. Creation of the Wardens? I thought that they were just something you signed up for. It was obvious that it was a big commitment, Zandra said clearly enough that the Wardens were helpless to the council, but I never assumed . . .

None of these headings have any page numbers. Right! Mom told me that magic books like this use magic to help you find what you want. It’s a lot better than a bunch of bookmarks and flipping back and forth.

After a quick bit of flipping through I reach the creation heading and quietly hum to myself as I read over it. This should be interesting!

While Sanctuary was long a land of peace and prosperity where women of magic talents could explore their gifts and each other in safety and calm, this did not remain so. For the longer that we remained in Sanctuary, our powers grew. Each generation seemed to have a closer connection to their powers, and seemed quicker to adapt to them. Mothers were quick to celebrate the accomplishments of their daughters. It is the duty of a mother to give their daughters opportunities that they did not themselves possess.

The dilemma of this new power grew as more and more of the families of Sanctuary learned that their natural gifts without even proper training could do so much to their fellow woman. The LaSilvases, the Raines, and the Donnovans were the first but others soon followed. These gifts manifesting more strongly in younger, less disciplined hands meant it did not take long before women hungry for power began to take it for themselves.

It was during this time that The Council was formed to protect the greater interests of the realm. A ruling body by itself could make rules and encourage others to enforce them, but they all had their own agendas. They had their own family loyalties. By design the Council was made of the most powerful families. When what a woman believed or desired found itself so malleable the notion of trusting anyone with such responsibility as carrying out the law or being in authority other than The Council itself seemed laughable.

That was when the first lightbearer manifested. Her powers were so great that they had remade her very body to better service them, giving her skin the same shine that all LaSilvases had in their hair and eyes. Exploration of her powers revealed that they could do so much more than merely change her at her powers whims. It was by this proccess that the Nesatealia came to be.

Wow. This is definitely something I didn’t think I’d find. Mom told me that the first Nesatelia, Red, had been a LaSilvas and had the same special gift that she had. But this . . . I shake my head and go back to reading.

Though Nesatelia as she took to calling herself took many years to manipulate her body and powers, those who were studying this process soon came to realize the magical underpinnings. This process of magical transmogrification if used on another instead of ones self had the chance of completely remaking a woman to fit a template. Her former self could be torn away, not just her mind or allegiances, but her magical gifts, and the blood that flowed within her veins.

This power would be how The Council would create The Wardens. Through many long years The Council discovered this process would be most efficient if the first Warden were a willing sacrifice, she would become the template, the magic that would seal all of the Wardens together as one. She would be reborn countless times as each new Warden. All of them would have her same hair, her same eyes, her same blood, and her same drives.

After completing the initial process, any woman could irreversibly be made a Warden. They would be told the oaths that would become their drive, and the magic and blood that would replace that which had been from their family. They would not be told that their very identities would be overwritten and washed away. Those who did not need to know anything at all would merely know that The Wardens were made loyal to The Council, and that the process that gave them their magics specifically made for taking down rogue witches required deep magical alterations.

While this magic could be used to do so, there is no need to use it to affect some features, such as ones face, or ones overall shape. While it does give all the same long blue hair, and the same deep blue eyes it keeps the Wardens from appearing as magical doppelgangers. Not all perfectly identical, and yet closer than sisters, The Wardens would be daughters always to The Council before any others. Their lives would be for The Council. They would have no ego, no other motives, and no chance for betrayal.

Yet their memories, and their unique experiences could be shared through the seal that kept them loyal to The Council. Wardens would be able to distinguish their own memories in order to maintain the illusion of identity. It would be unlikely that anyone would pursue a former friend or lover who had become a Warden, but steps have been taken to prevent this from exposing the truth nevertheless. Every precaution has been taken.

It was by means of these Wardens that the first women that Nesatealia converted to be her new family were held at bay and order maintained in Sanctuary. So it shall always be. To ensure that those with stronger morals than those who first began The Council do not plunge us helplessly into another age of conflict, these truths must never be known to those outside of The Council.

Not even The Wardens must ever fully realize what they are, or what has been done to them. For even with their very minds and souls remade to obedience for The Council and Sanctuary itself, there is ever a chance that in striving to obey their Oaths to keep Sanctuary safe they would endanger themselves and The Council.

This . . . this is bad. Even if The Wardens aren’t corrupted, The Council has been using magic to make women their helpless family of slaves! Obviously this book is a bit out of date and doesn’t account for whatever eventually tipped the sway of power . . . but Zandra made it sound like The Wardens hadn’t been a thing during the lawless period of the Nesatealia. She’d become one after my mother saved this place.

Free of the Nesatealia these people might have had a chance for more freedom, but like this? If someone volunteered to become a Warden thinking they were making their land safe they’d just be ending up as a slave! This is fucking terrible!

The barrier surrounding Sylvia is becoming less and less blue. I hope that’s a good thing. Even if The Council isn’t corrupted, and The Wardens haven’t been taken over, we can’t leave Sanctuary like this! We can’t let this keep happening. I won’t let it. My home might be in another world, but I can’t ignore people who can’t ask for my help to set them free.

I slam the book shut and hold it tightly against my chest. This needs to be shown to everyone. There has to be an alternative to slavery that still keeps people safe. There has to be something else that I can do!

Zandra . . . She sacrificed her identity, her self, her freedom, to protect people more concerned with their own power than anything else. Could the people have been more free under the Nesatealia’s influence? Being their direct slaves had to be bad, but this can’t be the only place The Council is dipping its thumb that it shouldn’t be.

So many questions. I look over the titles of the other books, but none of them look like they’ll have the answers. The Nature of Magic. The Nature of Control. The Discovery of Sanctuary. These are really interesting, but they won’t have the answers that I want. They can’t have the answers that I need. None of them can tell me where Sarah is.

Right! Sarah! At least she’ll be able to help us once we can break her out of that temple. I’m worrying about all of this for nothing! With her help, this should be simple!

The last of the blue is gone from the barrier. The last little bits of silver and violet are fading fast. It’s just red now . . . red. . . “Sylvia? Sylvia!” I toss the book to the ground and try to reach through the barrier. Like an electric shock my whole body pulses and hums with a low, dull . . .

I don’t know how I ended up falling on the floor, but I’m guessing that’s how it works. My whole mind just went numb. It hurt for a moment and then it was just . . . nnn just thinking about it makes my head feel funky.

So that approach is right out. I can’t punch my way through, and using any magic on it sounds really dangerous. I start to open the book before frowning. If it says anything about this I don’t think it would tell me how to subvert it. Whoever wrote this was very prot he whole people-not-having-a-choice strategy of keeping things safe. If I was supposed to be someone overseeing the Seal I’d probably know how to deal with this.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?!

“Aurora! You did it, both of you!” Zandra! I whirl around in place to see her gloved hand pushing the door open. She has the calmest, most relaxed expression I’ve ever seen her have. Something else is wrong too, and it takes me a second to realize that her braid is undone. Poofy and messy, her long blue hair is hanging free. Something deep in her eyes looks . . . wrong. There’s passion in her voice, but it’s not right.

Is this just because I know what they did to her? I hope so. “Zandra! Yeah, we . . . something tried to do something to Sylvia, but we managed to get through it. Just barely. How’d you get here so fast . . .? There were so many Wardens after us when we closed the door, and . . . your hair?”

“My hair . . .? Oh. She thought it looked better this way. Don’t you think so? I feel so much better now! I can feel it . . . The Council isn’t in control. The Oath isn’t binding me anymore . . .” Zandra’s lazy smile turns even lazier, almost drunken as she slowly steps closer. “Why are you pulling away? I want to congratulate you . . .”

“I . . . She . . .? Who thought so?” I hadn’t even noticed I was stepping backwards. I’ve seen what Zandra can do. If she pointed . . . wait, her scepter isn’t on her hip. I’ve never seen her without her scepter. Except the time she gave it to me.

Low laughter echoes down the stairs. I didn’t hear Zandra coming, but I wasn’t trying to. This time I do hear someone getting closer. It is not a very comfortable feeling at all. The book is on the ground.

It’s tempting to leaf through and find out why someone would want a Warden scepter thingy, or why they’d want to unbraid her hair, but I get the absolute worst feeling that I wouldn’t get a chance to get much reading done before reality interrupted. This is bad. This is very bad.

I close my teeth around my lip and look between Zandra and the barrier behind me. If I could trick her into getting closer I could toss her against it. It might be like an electric fence and take me down with her, but if I woke up sparking I might still have the upper hand. It’s an option, but it’s not one that sounds like it has a very high chance to actually succeed. Nothing does right now.

Zandra stops, tilting her head curiously to the side. “She? Rust, of course. The woman who helped free me from The Council. The woman who is going to free all of Sanctuary from their dominance. You’ll meet her soon. It’s been a long time coming. She’s wanted to meet you and your sister for such a long, long time.”

“I’ll bet.” Rust. With that barrier turning red I’m getting the horrible feeling that she’s a Nesatealia. Mom never had much luck going against them until her gift kicked in, and even then they had things they could use against her. What hope would I have? “Any chance that we might be able to save that meeting until after we meet up with Sarah . . .?”

“Oh, but she can help with that too! If you just let her take you to Sarah, won’t that make everything so much easier?” Something about the way her hair is flowing around her makes her look so care free and vibrant.

Crap. I am so incredibly fucked. “Leora isn’t Rust, is she?”

“No, no she is not.” Zandra shrugs, looking past me at the barrier. Sometimes it wouldn’t kill me to be more suspicious. “Lady Leora was the only one of The Council who suspected that Rust had found a way to compromise a Warden. Me. I would have told you that sooner, but Rust didn’t feel it was worth concerning you with. She really is such a lovely woman. Just as powerful and capable as everyone thought. And you helped her free all of us Wardens . . .”

Leora. I need to find Leora. If she’s the head of The Council then she has to know what to do. I can’t believe anything Zandra has told me. Counting on Sarah backing us up now just sounds . . . silly.

“I found the book.” Zandra raises a blue eyebrow. “The book about the Wardens! What the Council does to you. What they did to your body, to your mind. Look, we can find some way to change you, all of you, back! We can fix things, but if this Rust is really like you said, really some creepy chameleon who uses a woman’s magic to make them into helpless sleeper agents, then . . . then we don’t need her help to do that!”

“Step aside, Zandra. I don’t think that Aurora is going to be the daughter I’ll be using to convince sweet Sarah to cooperate. A shame, really. She used to have the cutest auburn hair before she had to go and ruin it with our family’s gifts.” That’s a new voice I’ve never heard before. I’m not sure I like it.

If that’s Rust’s voice, and there’s no reason to think it isn’t, she sounds confident. She doesn’t sound overconfident like Doctor Lys did because she knew how things would turn out. She doesn’t sound overconfident like Quillspawn did because of her raw power. She sounds confident because she’s never had a reason to doubt it.

It’s a very different voice, but it reminds me of Anachronista. I don’t like thinking about anyone having that sort of power. We got lucky that I’m not supposed to exist.

Whatever Zandra gave Sylvia to help protect the Wardens was a trap. It has to be. I can’t back down and let them get to Sylvia. I pull my metal back over my body, and narrow my eyes. “You aren’t getting either of us, Rust! But I think that maybe it’s about time we met after all.

Obediently Zandra steps to the side from the door. I can see a woman’s shadow nearing from around the corner of the stairs. There is so much that I don’t like about this.

“You’re right, Aurora. At least, you’re right about one thing.” She laughs again, and I wish it didn’t chill me to my bones. “Our meeting has been long overdue.”