The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lydia Waite purred, her deep green eyes hooding as she slid her nails along the cheek of her latest victim. She couldn’t have been older than twenty three, with coke-bottle-thick glasses resting heavily on her nose. She wore a t-shirt a size too small depicting characters with brightly colored hair under a series of Japanese letters and an unflattering pair of jeans. Her lips quivered as she failed to not press noticeably into Lydia’s touch.

Marcy had only been trying to find something in the library. She couldn’t even remember the whole of her path between those rows and bringing the other woman back home with her. It hardly helped that it was getting was harder and harder to think past those green eyes. That had started well before Lydia had touched her cheek.

It all came back in a flash. Marcy had been looking for a book, and found a gap instead. After turning away, the book she’d wanted had been there. When she’d reached for it she’d found the auburn haired Lydia’s hand over hers reaching for the same book.

The sight of the older woman, not old, maybe in her late twenties but only barely looking it, had made Marcy’s breath catch in her lungs and her heart skip a beat. She remembered thinking this is exactly what I wanted to find.

She couldn’t even remember which book it had been. Not anymore. That recollection was lost somewhere outside of the depths of Lydia’s eyes, and she couldn’t quite pull herself away.

Marcy whimpered quietly below her breath as she tried to gather her will. How had they’d left the library and ended up back in her dorm room with no one else there? Even trying, Marcy couldn’t remember that. She couldn’t remember letting anyone else touch her so possessively, either. She took a deep breath, gathering up her remaining strength as she spoke. “I… I don’t know if I—“

Small green points of light twinkled from the depths of Lydia’s eyes. Green tingled and twisted between Marcy’s thoughts as she let out a soft gasp. I don’t know if I can look away from your eyes. I need you so much.

“If… I don’t know if I can look away from your eyes… I need you so much…” Marcy whimpered with a soft, weak moan as she found herself pressing her breasts against Lydia’s. The moment she spoke the words they became the deepest truth that she had ever known. Lydia grinned, and gently tapped a finger to her lips, which Marcy quickly kissed.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to, dear. You may gaze for as many eternities as you crave.” Lydia’s finger trailed down from Marcy’s lips, and along her neck before finding the center of her chest. “I would hardly desire to rush you towards climax.”

Marcy gasped, her eyes widening as Lydia’s fingers curled around and gently fondled her breast. “I-I don’t feel… Rushed… I… I just… I want… You…”

Lydia’s eyes hooded, as she pressed her hourglass shape more firmly against her prey. The freckles across her pale skin caught the corners of Marcy’s gaze as she found each breath more and more labored. Her hips moved on their own, pressing desperately against Lydia. It was as though she could hardly breathe, and Lydia possessed all of the world’s air in her tall seductive shape. The thirst that shook her body longed for Lydia’s every wet taste.

“Mmm… And you’ll have me. Though I wonder… Mm what would happen if I were to do… this…?” Nails pinched around Marcy’s nipple that was already loudly announcing its presence through her top.

Deep green energy swirled from Lydia’s nails, twining and twisting into Marcy’s nipple, quickly fading from view. Marcy’s eyes widened, dimly glowing with that same green before her hips began to sway, and her shirt sailed across the room. Her breasts bounced in the tight cage of her white bra which soon landed atop her shirt. Pink nipples soon found themselves being pinched, twisted, and desperately tugged by Marcy’s own hands.

“Ooooh this… This is how much I need you… How much I want you… I’m yours… Please… Take me… However you want me!” Marcy’s head threatened to fall back, before the tug of Lydia’s eyes renewed their grasp.

“And what if how I want you, my little tart, is as a puppet? A puppet who uses her lovely breasts, and all the rest of her delicious body, to sate my every curiosity and desire?” Lydia slowly licked her lips, her eyes not leaving Marcy’s while still drinking in the sight before her. She’d done this before, grasping a woman seemingly at random from a library or a bookstore and danced her through the motions of enchantment, but each was a new experiment. Each was a new analysis.

How Marcy would react was something Lydia couldn’t know for sure until it happened. It was a mystery, and one she wasn’t sure if she was experimenting with to learn how to make women like Marcy dance just as she wanted on her strings or to simply be surprised in small ways every time.

She had varied tastes to be certain, but there was something to be said for certainty. When her mother had taught her how to use her magic, she had stressed always being so very certain that there was no chance for failure. She’d heard that line so many times it was permanently imprinted into her brain.

Marcy groaned, and soon her pants were pooling at her feet, followed by a pair of sky blue panties. Her bush was neatly trimmed, a cute tuft of mussed brown hair. Her pussy was dripping, slick and flushed with an arousal that she could no longer hope to contain. “Then u-use me, make me your puppet! Please! Whatever you want… That’s what I want! That’s what I need! I need you to want me… I need you to fuck me!”

Lydia grinned. While she would never use such simple, crass language herself, she could hardly argue for its effectiveness. Marcy’s hand diving between her legs to stroke along her own slit as nails continued to rawly twist and tug at her nipple made a compelling case too.

“How can I possibly refuse such a plea?” Lydia pushed the younger woman down onto her own bed before straddling her hips. Marcy’s touches only intensified, fingers delving deep as she pulled her nipple harder. “But I do believe we could make things more fun. How about we make this a threesome? Doesn’t that sound so delightful?”

Marcy desperately nodded, panting between the loud wet sounds of her own fingers moving at an ever quickening pace between her thighs. “Y-yeah! If that’s what you want!”

“Mmmm and it most definitely is. After all, the more the merrier, mm? Besides, it makes for a much more enjoyable denouement!” Lydia winked as she kissed Marcy’s lips with a passionate intensity, her lips glowing a brilliant blue in the process.

Marcy screamed, grinding herself against Lydia as she returned the kiss. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her body arched from the bed. The blue from her lips son began to brightly glow across the surface of her eyes, shining brighter and brighter until they were like twin suns filling the room with blue light.

Above them, a spectral white energy began to swirl amidst the blue. It shifted and snaked through the air, coiling around the light in fascination. Translucent eyes opened from the end that spiraled ever closer to the source of the light, before that white dived into Marcy.

She let out a louder, sharper scream as another woman’s body appeared in a ghostly haze over hers. More voluptuous. A darker tan. A different face. The apparition faded as did the blue light, and Marcy’s lips fell into a lazy grin as the kiss broke. “Mmm… What’s… Mmm what is this? Where… where am I…? Mmm I was... Mmm someplace bright, grinding, moaning, craving and… and then…”

“And now you’re in my little puppet.” Lydia grinned as she grasped both of Marcy’s breasts in her hands, squeezing and kneading with hooded eyes. “I summoned you from the plane of desire, and have bound you to this woman’s form. In exchange, you will teach me all of your secrets, every little truth of lust that is intrinsic to your being. But I know that you’ll want payment for that. I’m not the sort of woman who imagines herself above such traditions.”

Lydia slowly began to unbutton her blouse, and Marcy’s eyes followed her hands. Before the magic, Marcy’s eyes had been brown. Now, they were a hauntingly bright blue. “Mmm. Agreed, sorceress. I will teach you everything that you want to know. After we share a dance of ecstasy.”

Lydia’s clothes soon flew to join the pile of Marcy’s, as the two women became a tangle of limbs and wet flesh, grinding, suckling, nibbling, and squeezing wherever their hands could reach.

Erotic screams filled the room as the two shook and trembled, kneaded and clawed at each other in the most primal act of passion that two women could share. Deep in her own mind, Marcy watched herself move, unable to do more than feel herself caged and bound within her own mind. When her body came, two voices screamed from the overwhelming pleasure.

Lydia wished that she smoked, at least after sex. She was sure there was some way to counteract the bad effects of it, but her mother had promised if she ever found out her daughter was poisoning her body with such mortal poisons that she would have her mouth tasting of soap for a week. No matter how far she went from Boston, Lydia found it hard to convince herself that her mother wouldn’t somehow know.

Being from a long line of sorceresses had its advantages, and its drawbacks for balance.

She laid in bed beside Marcy’s body. The two of them were alone, again. The spirit had been helpful, sharing the building blocks for a new spell or two with its somewhat difficult to follow ramblings. Given that such spirits were speaking through the memories their hosts possessed of language not all of the concepts were easily translated. A being from a land of pure desire had little use for elegant speech.

Lydia recalled the time that she had kept a spirit bound to a girl for a month and tried to train it like a pet. It had bent to following her commands easily enough, but the failure to always grasp her meanings had quickly grown tiresome. Temporary possession is all I can stand anymore. Unless I want to be generous and fill the world with the possessed.

There were at least two women living on the east coast who were still caged in their own minds by spirits that Lydia had summoned through them. She occasionally pondered hunting them down and seeing what they had gotten up to.

It seemed like too much effort for not enough gain. Finding new intellectual women, melting them into pliant playthings, and using them as conduits for new secrets was a far more productive past time. Their sex had ended hours ago but Lydia’s clit still tingled, and her toes continued to curl all on their own. Marcy would be a fun pet to visit once in a great while, her mind already made so sweetly receptive to Lydia’s magics. She was cute enough to be a long term project, but Lydia wasn’t in the mood for one.

She wanted to experiment while she was young. It wouldn’t be long before her mother would be hounding her to find a husband to make sure the Waite family line continued.

Even if her mother insisted that she would be happy to help make that husband disappear, Lydia wanted no part in that tradition. Not yet. The money and improved quality of life, as their family married for money as much as for descendants, would be appealing. Until then, her magic could get her anything she wanted.

It hadn’t let her down yet.

Marcy muttered something about a Jake or a Leandra in her sleep. Lydia grinned and slowly stroked along the sleeping woman’s curves. “You were an entertaining enough dalliance, Marcy. I think I might even let you remember this, just to see what comes of it.”

Lydia melted her lips into Marcy’s, before cuddling down into the soft nude form of her latest conquest. She was eager to test her newly gathered magical knowledge, but first, sleep.

There was no one so desperately requiring their minds being rewired that it couldn’t wait until the morning.

Lydia checked her makeup one last time in her compact. Immaculate. She delighted in finding new ways to use magic, and one of the first she’d felt become quite second nature had been enough illusory makeup to accomplish the “naturally flawless” look with just a few wiggles of her fingers and the right level of concentration.

The library where she’d met Marcy was tempting to revisit. It was large, and contained no small supply of rare books that a cute girl with big glasses and an open mind might find herself hunting down Alas, it was better to not have too obvious a hunting pattern.

Even if magic wasn’t a thing she bothered to hide too well, Lydia hardly wanted to be obvious. Plus there slowly became a higher chance of one of her victims having seen her at work. Nothing could ruin a moment more perfectly than a sudden recollection and a keen disinterest. It could be fixed, but by then her good mood was typically ruined. She found herself being a bit too brutal with those women and it was hardly their fault. She preferred not leaving bruises behind, or teeth marks.

Not because it was wrong of course, but because it was beneath her.

Lydia’s hips swayed as she made her way into a large used book store. It was one that she hadn’t visited yet, in a city just far enough away. It was smarter to stick to the east coast and avoid the madness that had happened on the other side of the country, but otherwise she felt little need to be anywhere close to home.

Her mother still found ways to contact her if she wanted to. She didn’t tend to care much for subtlety. Subtlety is for conquests, not for offspring. The line returned to Lydia’s mind unbidden as she began to move through the rows with only the most casual glances to her surroundings.

It took her quite by surprise when she was sizing up a blue haired woman in her peripheral and a woman’s hand closed around her shoulder. She somehow managed to contain her shriek and to slowly turn her gaze towards the rather stealthy woman.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you looked like someone else for a moment there.” The woman’s voice was refined, with just the hint of what might have been an English accent. If it was, it was one that had been worn away by years of living elsewhere. She was older than Lydia, at least in her forties, but hardly looking old. Even with her long silver-white hair she looked the very image of youth, her blue eyes twinkling, her tall curvaceous form every bit as appealing as Lydia’s own.

For a moment she wondered if it was as unnatural as her own shape, which had been so carefully cultivated.

“Well, it would appear that I’m not who you thought I was, miss. I’m quite afraid that I don’t recognize you in the slightest. But I do hope you have a pleasant day.” Lydia was annoyed, and it dripped through her voice like daggers. She didn’t want to cause a scene, or be lured away from such enchanting prey. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a woman with blue hair.

She pondered how difficult it would be to make the young woman’s pubic hair match.

Lydia began to move away, only to find that hand on her shoulder again. She tensed, ready to give in to the rising frustration that welled up in her stomach before the woman spoke. “You wouldn’t happen to be Denise’s daughter, would you? Denise Waite?”

“Y-yes.” Lydia’s blood ran cold. She suddenly felt so ill prepared. She had never causally run into one of her mother’s acquaintances. Just as their family was old, and prestigious, it was hardly one that had escaped notice. Infinite possibilities ran through her mind. Even though the woman was older, and hardly her type, it occurred to her that it might be in her best interests to use those same skills her mother had taught her that she used so exclusively on young bookworms. “You wouldn’t happen to be a friend of hers, would you?”

Lydia turned to face the older woman, subtly shifting her posture to call attention to her breasts. The older woman didn’t glance down towards them, but it was hard to imagine she wasn’t using the same corner vision that Lydia always used.

Her professional dress was enough to catch Lydia’s eye. She wore black, a smart, long black skirt, and a blouse that should have, even fully buttoned, showed hints of the woman’s breasts. Instead, her pale skin was hidden by a tasteful light green shirt that only made Lydia more curious how the woman would look splayed across her own bed with her eyes an even more ghostly blue.

Perhaps she could make an exception.

“Ah, then we know each other through her, I suppose you could say. We haven’t spoken for some time, but I was one of her admirers back in the day. We went to University together, you see.” She grinned, and released Lydia’s shoulder as her gaze shifted along Lydia’s body as if considering the differences and similarities between Lydia and her mother. “Ah, but that hardly grants you much, does it? I am Eva, Eva Kensington. Your mother probably never mentioned me.”

“No, no I’m afraid that she did not… But I find myself quite wondering why. I’m sure you left a powerful impression on her none the less.” Lydia hooded her eyes as she shifted closer, arching into Eva’s gaze to give her the best view that could be had of her magically augmented body. “But you know my mother, she has a keen eye for details, but has a way of forgetting the most important things.”

Eva laughed, a soft, posh laugh that had Lydia squirming. She was hardly the sort of woman that Lydia would have sought out, but there was a certain aspirational slant that piqued her interest. It was almost enough for her imaginings to turn vaguely towards the consensual.

Not enough to dissuade her from craving to see the woman bent to her will, but enough to consider allowing the woman to think it had been a mutual interaction.

Eva’s arms moved around Lydia, pulling her into a gentle hug that had her keenly aware of the woman’s unique warmth. “Too true, too true. It was a bit long ago for her to have failed to mention you, I assure you. I don’t think even Denise could fail to remember her own lovely daughter. Perhaps you’d like to join me for lunch? My treat, of course.”

Lydia grinned, nodding as she felt her arms around Eva and savored the shared embrace. Her eyes faintly twinkled, and she savored the feeling of crafting the spell as her eyes gazed so deeply into Eva’s. I’d just love to take you back to my place and show you all of the things Denise failed to mention.

“I’d just love to take you back to my place…” Eva began to speak, though her voice was much more lucid and sharp than Marcy’s had been before. She paused, leaning closer to whisper lowly into Lydia’s ear. “Though I wouldn’t have thought a young sorceress like yourself would be so interested in being in the home of a woman such as myself, much less so keen as to guess the nature of my relationship with your mother. There is much she failed to mention that I would love to share, but I’m afraid you’re not quite strong enough to work that trick on me.”

As much as the revelation had Lydia tensing and cursing herself for assuming it would be so simple she cursed herself for feeling herself slicken. She’d never had that spell fail. Never. Of course she’d also never tried to use it on her mother, or one of her mother’s friends.

Lydia had always preferred younger women, so it hadn’t been a consideration. Finding herself blocked was a challenge more dangerous, and intriguing, than those she’d encountered before. It almost made her wish she had tried such tricks on her mother. Lydia could hardly imagine being chastised in any way that wouldn’t have her more prepared for Eva.

At least she could be certain no matter what happened this would be a very memorable experience.

“W-well… you’re a very beautiful woman, Eva. My mother might forget what’s important in hindsight, but she’s very good at the present, and being forward thinking.” Lydia leaned her body against Eva’s. It felt awkward to allow herself to feel vulnerable, but it was hardly as though she were helpless. Even if her first trick had failed, Lydia had plenty more. “And I didn’t know you when you were younger, but I do believe age has been most generous.”

“You are most definitely Denise’s daughter. I could never refuse her, you know. She would start those charms of hers, and I would be at her mercy in moments.” Eva grinned as she drew back, breaking the embrace with a crooked smirk. “In that case, I do believe that I could take you back home, but no crying to your mother later that this is somehow my fault.”

Lydia straightened her posture, and took a thoughtful glance along Eva. Her skirt was too long to reveal much of her legs. Her blouse was too loose even tucked in to do more than hint at the shape she had felt underneath. She had to wonder if the thatch between her legs matched the hair on her head, or if it was there at all.

It would be a fun conversation starter with her mother, too. Especially as she hadn’t given up on the notion of Eva bent to her will. She could just imagine the delight of telling her mother that one of her old sorceress conquests was now her on again off again toy.

Maybe she would even offer to share, though she doubted that her mother would be terribly interested. She’d grown boring, much more boring than Eva.

“Perish the thought, Eva. If I mention you, it will be all positive. I can tell. Shall I follow you in my car, or shall we take yours?” The offer to surrender up a little more control felt like an alluring piece of bait. She wanted Eva believing she’d given in after her failure, but didn’t want to lose face. The best lies were half-truths.

“My hotel actually isn’t far at all. I came by foot. Fancy a walk? I’d be happy if you stayed the night. Couldn’t have you telling your mother that I didn’t show her daughter all the hospitality that I’m capable of.”

“Quite so…” Lydia hooded her eyes, and took Eva’s offered hand. She wrapped herself around her arm, leaning ever so faintly against her as they moved towards the exit. She made a note of the blue haired woman. There would be a future opportunity for her. Lydia promised herself that. To do otherwise would be inexcusable.

Eva smiled, slowly stroking Lydia’s auburn hair as her blue eyes lightly hooded.

Eva’s hotel was almost as classy as Eva herself. Lydia had expected nothing less, but had still found herself delightfully impressed. She was definitely one of her mother’s old flames. That the paintings on the wall almost looked real, and there had even been flowers in the room cinched it.

Once they were inside, Eva offered Lydia a seat on her couch and had moved over to the mini fridge. She bent in front of it. And the chaste skirt was pulled just tight enough to tease at a vague approximation of the curves underneath. “Would you fancy some wine, my dear Lydia, before we engage in our more… carnal activities? I’ve always found having just the faintest edge smoothed away makes such things infinitely more rewarding.”

Lydia tried to think of some way to refuse. After all, she wanted to keep her wits about her and strong as steel. If she was going to worm her way between Eva’s thoughts it would take all of her cunning.

But if she refused, it was unlikely that Eva would join her. Perhaps that lack of a sharp edge would be all that Lydia needed to slip past her defenses.

It seemed a better thought than merely hoping for Eva to spontaneously collapse mindlessly into her lap.

“Of course, Eva. I’m not much of a drinker myself, but I’m hardly a stranger to it. I suppose mostly it’s a result of having tastes just a bit too… particular to settle for just any taste.” Lydia hooded her eyes, and held out her hand to accept the offered glass before Eva began to pour.

“Nor do I, Lydia. It is not the sort of thing one should indulge in overmuch, or the sort of thing where one’s indulgences should be altogether… common. It should be rare. Magical.” Eva laughed as she stepped away, and began to pour her own glass.

Lydia watched her go, and sighed quietly. It seemed almost silly the narrow scope she had limited herself to. Even if Eva lacked a certain shyness that pressed her buttons, or a young eagerness to learn, she kept finding ways to make her smile. She brought the glass to her nose and took in its bouquet, quivering at the rich scent.

Eva was a woman of exquisite tastes. The only one that remained to be proven, was a taste of her.

“Wine… speaking of wine… Grapes. Do you know how they make seedless grapes? It’s an odd thing to bring up I suppose, but it’s something I’ve always found rather interesting.” Eva sat beside Lydia on the couch, swirling her own glass in her hand with a lazy smile.

Lydia shook her head, taking the faintest of sips. It was an intense taste without being poorly managed. Her eyes faintly fluttered, but soon sharpened anew. “No, I’m afraid that that isn’t something I can name off the top of my head. I probably learned at some stage... I can’t suppose that they plant nothingness seeds, mm? That would be a bit too magic for something that I’m relatively sure doesn’t need a sorceress’ touch.”

Eva nodded, setting down her glass with a soft smile. “Precisely. Though the thought of someone planting nothing and waiting for a vine to sprout is a whimsical one.” Eva’s lip quirked, before she raised back up her glass and regarded it thoughtfully. “But no, grapes don’t need seeds. Not anymore, at least.

“Somewhere along the line, someone discovered that you don’t even need to grow a new plant. Not from scratch. That might mutate. When you work so hard through so many generations of a plant to get the perfect taste, you don’t want next year to sink your investment. The plants we eat, and drink, are clones. Small pieces cut away, regrown anew. Any seeds that might arise are treated with chemicals so they never form enough substance to ruin a bite. So that first vine that was declared perfect, is endlessly clipped, grafted to a new plant, and regrown anew. Immortal, albeit with an eternity of mutilation and an endless cycle of aging. But immortal.” Eva winked, and swirled her glass again, staring into its red depths.

Lydia blinked, taking another, longer sip of her wine. It was very sweet, but it was odd to think that the grapes that bore it were from a plant that had been reborn infinite times to keep the taste precisely the same. She pondered if perhaps the taste at her lips might be from a time before such a technique, but decided she knew too little about wine to say.

To ask felt like admitting too much honest ignorance.

“And why does that come to mind, Eva? Do you intend to tie me to your bed with vines and ravish me for an eternity, splitting off a limb and growing a new Waite girl to torment with your sexual advances?” Lydia winced at her failed line, but found herself strangely off her game.

Her words weren’t coming to her lips in the way she expected them to. Her tone came out more confused than flirtatious. The glass in her hand continued to feel heavier.

“Not at all. I’m not a sadist, though your mother might disagree. No, I mentioned it because part of the technique is not merely cutting a piece of the plant. You attach it to another plant.” Eva smiled leaning closer to Lydia, before she held her glass to her lips. “It’s asexual reproduction, with the same result every time. The plant you graft grows its fruit as you would wish it to, but it is an amalgam. The plant you cut to accept the immortal grape is opened, deeply, and transformed. Its life is redirected to sustain and grow the invading tissue. Sip.”

Lydia began to protest, but her parted lips allowed more than adequate space for the wine to slip into her mouth. Once there, she couldn’t help but swallow. She wanted to try to throw more words into the other woman’s mind, but she felt off balance. She felt sore, throbbing, but she couldn’t place where. It was certainly nowhere she could see.

Though, her eyes did feel dazed and less than reliable. Her vision fuzzed at the edges, discolored and indistinct. Somehow it was hard to worry. It was simply another curiosity, like so many others.

When she tried to find the right way to try placing the right words in Eva’s mind, Lydia found herself dizzying. It wasn’t as simple as makeup, but it was definitely a skill she was as practiced in. Somehow, reaching out to that part of herself just felt draining and tiresome. She decided to let the feeling merely drift away from her, and concentrated her gaze on Eva’s beautiful blue eyes.

“Nn… That is a rather odd thought. Somewhat morbid, if you apply it to a less floral existence…” Lydia sighed, shifting closer to Eva until she felt their hips meet. A giggle rose to her lips, and she let it past with a coy smile. “Tell me, Eva. Why would such a thing occur to you now, when we could be discussing so many more sensuous things?”

Eva sighed, a bedroom sigh that matched her hooded eyes. “Simple, dear. The wine you just drank follows a very similar process, only it’s adapted to reproduce in its liquid form.”

Before she could form a coherent enough thought to reply, Lydia threw the glass to the floor. It shattered, and stained the tan carpet a deep red. Eva simply smiled, and moved closer to the shaking Lydia who found it much too difficult to rise or move away. She was so sore, so deep inside. Aching. She could feel it now. It wasn’t in any one place.

The wine had carved its way into her magic, and was pouring itself inside.

Eva didn’t skip a beat, drawing an arm around Lydia to pull her closer as she continued to speak. “You see, as you drink the wine, the plant injects itself into you, and begins to draw nourishment from its host. Before long, you become an extension of the plant. The air you breathe supports it. The food you eat strengthens it. Through you, it finds immortality. Of course, you pay the price for that. You see, the plant is feeding off your magic for now, but it can’t root there.”

“C-can’t… root… there…?” Lydia stuttered, lips trembling. Her eyes were crossing. She couldn’t keep still. She couldn’t focus. Everything felt dizzying and wrong. “Wh-where… Where is it… Where is it… g-gonna… going… going to... root…?”

“Simple.” Eva grinned as she grasped a chunk of Lydia’s hair and roughly pulled her head back. “It’s going to root in your brain.” When Lydia opened her mouth to scream Eva poured her glass down Lydia’s throat.

She coughed, sputtered, and struggled, but it was too late.

The pulsing soreness was too strong. It was too deep. She couldn’t fight it. She couldn’t tear free. It felt like she was drowning in the wine when the last bits of her vision began to fade to black. Tears ran down her eyes, as she cursed herself for not staying closer to home, for being so certain of herself.

Then she was certain of nothing but darkness.

Lydia had filled so many women with spirits, but she’d never been possessed herself. She wondered if this was how it felt. She’d experimented with them, giving the spirits more control, less, and except for those rare instances where she left the spirit where she’d bound it, the woman had always been herself again when the spirit was set free.

No one was going to free Lydia, and she was all too aware.

She was naked, but only in the sense that she wasn’t wearing clothes. Long, powerful vines crisscrossed around her body like ropes covered with leaves. In thousands of small, tiny places small growths from the vibes cut into her skin, and she could feel them inside of her.

There was more vine inside of Lydia than Lydia. She’d already sipped too much before realizing what was happening, and the numb the vines had bound her in had stolen her good sense to react. She knew she should have waited for Eva to sip first, but she was sure that Eva was prepared for that somehow. She’d underestimated the woman.

Eva wasn’t one of her mother’s happy old lovers. She was one of her rivals. Denise had spoken at lengths about the dangers of rivalries with powerful sorceresses. It meant you could never let your guard down.

The vine moved inside of her ears, and down her throat. Lydia was too weak to do more than arch and twist on a purely instinctive nature. It didn’t hurt. She knew it wasn’t a real plant, or at least not a normal one. She wasn’t awake being bound and raped by an animate plant. It was all inside of her head, and she was all too keenly aware that just because she couldn’t see anything but a blank void and the powerful vines didn’t mean her body was even unconscious.

The plant was growing from her, and she could already feel the roots in her brain siphoning from her memories to feed the small blossoms that dotted the vine.

She expected to start forgetting things, like how to speak, or her mother’s face… but it wasn’t so simple. The plant wasn’t a parasite devouring her to replace her. She was the base the new plant was being grafted to. She was the one giving up her very self to grant the wine’s plant immortality. She wasn’t being consumed.

She was being converted.

The plant was accessing her memories, exploring them, and the more that it did, she didn’t find herself forgetting. She didn’t forget her mother’s smile. Instead, remembering her mother’s smile became an act of obedience. Remembering how to speak, remembering how to seduce, all of those long lessons with her mother chastising her on any small magical flaw became another way she could serve as a better host.

Lydia whimpered in her mind as she felt herself moisten as the plant moved through her memories of hunting down those beautiful, intelligent young women that were always so shy. She remembered the first spirits she bound to them, and the first words she shoved into their minds.

Each recollection made her clit throb harder, and her pussy dampen. She was more than just fertile soul. She was the plant’s mother. She was its other half.

The obedient half.

It didn’t communicate with words, but it didn’t have to. This plant had not been bred for its intelligence. It had not been bred for its taste, though that certainly aided in its propagation. The plant had no ambitions or great goals of its own. It wanted to use her magic, her identity, to make more of those pretty berries that tasted so good. She knew that her every fluid would taste of that wine now. Her saliva, her sweat… her tears…

If she rode the face of another cute, shy nerd girl, she wondered if the plant would find them a suitable host. The plant thrived on magic, craved it, but it seemed not to be necessary. The thought of using her seduction to further grow new plants seemed to please it, and she felt more of that wine run from between her legs.

Lydia remembered Eva, and the plant reacted quite differently. The plant had been grown to remember her. Where the other women that she remembered filled her with nothing but desire and another chance to better grow her plant that filled her ever deeper, Eva was something more than that. Eva was the Plant’s Goddess. She had tenderly nurtured it and cared for it. She had sung to it late into the night, and played such lovely classical music through cooler winter months where she was a constant warmth and comfort.

Eva had been the Plant’s mother.

If there was anything the plant had an ambition for, it was to be a loyal daughter. It wasn’t sure if Eva had crafted its seed, or the seed of its mother plants, but it knew that Eva was the sun, the rain, and all of the sweet things that gave her such nutrients as Lydia to siphon from.

Lydia tried to resist. She shook her head passionately inside of her viney prison. She tried to form words, thoughts, to force feed them to the Plant. She needed to convince it that Eva was nothing that it knew. She needed to convince it that Eva was just using it, but she was unsure it would care. It was a Plant. It had desires, but it lacked the same intelligence she had warped and twisted in so many minds before. Her magic was its magic.

The more she struggled to try convincing the Plant to use its mind to resist Eva, to free her, the more she realized that she had misunderstood something vital.

The Plant lacked a mind. That was what she was for. She was to be the Plant’s body and brain. Though it carried memories, they were twined through the magic of its being. They weren’t things the Plant was capable of responding to, or understanding. Not without her.

As the Plant fused with her, only then was it able to use these realizations. They were becoming a part of Lydia’s brain.

Her own flesh was training the Plant to desire one thing: obedience to Eva.

Remembering Eva’s face taught the Plant who it obeyed. Remembering her sexy accent taught the Plant the voice it would crave to please. Attempting to remember nothing at all taught the Plant her force of will to use for Eva’s ends.

Wine stained her cheeks as she sobbed and taught the Plant the despair it would soon only feel at disobedience or losing Eva’s approval.

Lydia felt even her futile struggle becoming more and more impossible. The Plant was in control. Several lengths of vine coiled together thrust between her legs, and she cried out as wine burst over her thighs and taught the Plant pleasure. The vines moved, pumping in and out of her, making her shake and scream as the Plant indulged its new nerves and trained its flesh to obey. Eva wanted the Plant to feel pleasure. It knew this deeper than Lydia had ever known anything.

She was powerless to do more than buck her hips instinctively as the coiled vines thrust harder and faster. The slick wet sounds that filled her mind were so loud she could no longer hear herself think, or remember what it had been like to be alone in her own mind.

Eva was giving her so much pleasure, just like she had for so many long winter months. Eva’s fingers were thrusting between her legs, into her ears, and deep into her brain. Eva was fucking her Plant with so much love and tenderness. Lydia was crying in joy at the overflowing love as she felt her breasts shake in the tight confinement of the vine’s bondage. She wanted to thank Eva for giving her so much for so long. She wanted to kneel at Eva’s feet and nuzzle into her thighs, begging to do anything she could to please her. She wanted to offer to put Eva’s words into the minds of any woman she desired.

Eva was her Goddess. Eva was her creatrix. For so many long years, Eva had sculpted her to be perfect, and now she was finally whole. She was finally able to do as she had craved to do for so long. She screamed in ecstasy as she felt her body and mind cum as one.

There was no Plant. There was no Lydia. There was only Eva’s loyal, adoring supplicant. There was only the thing that Eva had granted the bliss of her perfection.

Together, the new entity moaned Eva’s name, hips rolling as it filled itself with its own vines. It needed to be ready to obey Eva’s will. It needed to be sure that its body and mind were as one. Eva’s desires were paramount, and there could be no argument, no divergence. There could only be agreement.

Wine stained their thighs as PlantLydia came again and again, chanting her Goddess’s name like the perfect mantra it was.

“Good morning, Lydia.” Eva stroked her finger slowly along Lydia’s cheek. That was her name. Lydia. For a moment she had almost thought that something else, something new would be more appropriate… but she could feel it with her roots. She was Lydia, and the woman stroking her was Eva.

Lydia groaned, her eyes fluttering as she squeezed as close to Eva as she could, burying her face in the woman’s chest. She inhaled the scent of her sun deeply, quivering as she felt wine pour out over her thighs. She was a newborn all over again, and she’d never loved anyone like she loved her Eva. Eva. The name made her eyes cross and her clit throb. Her thighs clenched, and her ass tightened as shudders trembled through her naked body.

She was in Eva’s bed. How she’d gotten there, and where her clothes had gone, didn’t matter at all. Eva was in control. That was how things should be. Eva had earned it. She could still remember her beautiful voice signing such soothing songs.

Lydia loved Eva more than she’d ever loved herself, even in the dim distant memories she had before Eva. Eva was still there, always there, Lydia just hadn’t been able to feel her. She hadn’t become whole. She wondered how she had ever lived with her empty hollow existence of hunting down women to fulfill her solitary lusts instead of devoting her very existence to her beautiful and amazing Eva. How was that even a life worth living?

“Mmm my little Lydia is certainly in a delightful mood. We’re going to spend a little time together, since I know how cruel things have been for you, but then I’m sending you to perform a very important task. There’s someone else who needs to be whole, like you are. Someone I’ve been craving to be all the closer with for so many years.” Eva sighed, and squeezed Lydia tighter. “She’s had to be alone for all these years, too. She hasn’t had me to tell her what to do, or how to behave. Can you just imagine how that must have been for her?”

Lydia shuddered, and nodded. She could imagine it all too well. How long had she only been half of who she was? How long had she lived without knowing that the Sun loved her and that she had a purpose more important than merely surviving? How long had she used seductions to delay needing to marry a man, have a daughter, and become a respectable member of society before her husband’s untimely disappearance or death?

Eva wouldn’t do that to her. Somehow she knew that Eva would never let something so dark and terrible happen to her.

“Mmmm… of course, Eva… Anything for you! Everything for you… Thank you for being so good to me, for always being so amazing to me. I love you so much, Eva. Always.” Her lips kissed insistently over the older woman’s chest, as though if she kissed enough she could somehow show the other woman just how deep her affections ran.

She knew it was impossible, but she had to try. Eva was more her mother than the woman who had carried her for nine months. She had nurtured her other half for years before finally joining them. She hadn’t done it for money, or to continue her bloodline.

Eva was perfect.

Lydia shuddered as she fought to control herself. Her hands wanted to grope and squeeze at all of Eva’s body at once. She wanted to suckle and kiss at her most tender places until Eva’s screams were so loud the whole world could hear. As much as she wanted all of those things, she knew that it was what Eva wanted that was important.

She wanted to be the best seedling that she could be. Graftling? She wasn’t sure what she was to Eva, but she knew that whatever the word was it meant daughter and slave in equal measure.

Eva’s fingers continued to caress along her body, squeezing at tender curves and using them to pull her ever closer. Lydia moaned with each pull, nuzzling as if to burrow her way deeper into the perfect body of her loving sun. “I love you so, so much Eva… Mmm… I love when you touch me, when you speak to me, when you hold me. I love when you sing to me. Please, tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do anything, anything, and all of it will be for you!”

Eva’s lips curled into a grin as her eyes hooded in satisfaction. She stroked slowly along Lydia’s ass, squeezing and teasing closer to the wine soaked wetness between her thighs when she fancied a sharper moan from her adoring sycophant. “Oh, and I will tell you precisely what I wish of you to do. It will keep us apart for a time, but then we will be together so much longer, never again to be parted. That, I promise, my sweet little vineling.”

“V-v-v-ineliiiiiing!” Lydia screamed in orgasmic bliss as she clung so much tighter to Eva. Vineling. She was her Eva’s vineling. It was a term of affection that would work for no one else but her. It was a perfect thing to be called, and she craved to be called that again and again.

Endlessly.

“Mmm… You are a sensitive little vineling, aren’t you?” Eva stroked her fingers between the petals of her vineling’s pussy before pressing them so deep. Lydia’s eyes rolled back into her head as her body crested, and she screamed Eva’s name so loud her voice cracked. “I can’t hardly let you out of my bed when you need me so much. We’ll need to tend to you first.”

After a deep breath, Eva leaned her lips closer to Lydia’s ear and began to sing. It was a wordless song, all tones and notes and melody, but it was a song that Lydia knew from her scalp, to the tips of her toes, to her roots and all of the berries that juiced at every sound her Eva made.

She wasn’t sure if she came more from Eva’s touch, or her song as she quaked and groaned wordless pleas of Eva’s name.

All she knew was that she loved Eva, and she would do whatever she wanted. Whoever Eva wanted to be close to, whoever Eva wanted to complete, Lydia would do everything she could to give those things to her perfect Goddess.

Red wine stained the hotel sheets as she convulsed, lost in a bouquet of paradise.

Denise smiled as she opened up the door to find Lydia standing on her welcome mat. She questioned why her daughter couldn’t dress a little nicer, and use a little bit less of her magic to approximate cosmetics, but supposed that at least she was keeping out of trouble and had actually been the one to reach out. Denise had been planning on a surprise visit soon enough, but hadn’t quite decided if she would knock on her daughter’s door amidst a conquest or the morning after.

Lydia arriving unexpectedly saved Denise from having to make the decision until the next time her daughter disappeared without a word for another six months.

“Oh, sweetheart! I hardly expected it to be you! Come in, come in!” Denise wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her so close. It was impossible to miss a faint scent of wine. She would chastise her later for indulging in such vices. “I see you’ve been keeping yourself in shape.”

For most mothers, such a line might have been a reference to her slender figure. To Denise, it was decidedly more focused on how she was certain her daughter had enhanced her bust yet again. It now rivaled her own.

Somehow she couldn’t help but feel flattered at the notion of her daughter manipulating her form to more closely resemble her mother. It seemed healthier than attempting to find a lover that resembled her, at least to Denise. She was rather certain there wasn’t another woman in the world quite like her, sorceress or otherwise. She brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face as their embrace ended, and moved to guide Lydia further inside.

“All the more reason for me to show up unannounced! I can’t remember the last time that I decided to surprise you like this!” Lydia smiled, hiding the quiver as she felt her panties moisten.

“Neither can I! Actually… Have you ever surprised me like this? I’m not quite sure that you ever have, come to think of it…” Denise grinned, her green eyes twinkling as she grabbed a pair of glasses. “Would you like a drink? If you haven’t had too much already. I can’t help but notice that you stink of cheap wine. I thought that I taught you better than that.”

Lydia sighed, feigning a pout as she felt herself continue to slicken. “It isn’t cheap at all! I just like to have the occasional sip. It isn’t like I drove here, you know. The cabbie was more than happy to take me the whole way for a handful of rose petals.”

“At least you have that much self-respect I suppose.” Denise sighed as she set the glasses on the kitchen table. Her every movement was calculated to appear the most graceful movement from every angle, and it was distracting Lydia to notice it. She swallowed, savoring the sweet taste of her own saliva as she watched her mother’s curves shift with her every movement, and craved that she could act more bluntly. “Is something wrong dear? You seem…”

Lydia’s eyes hooded as she felt the vines inside of her clench. Even more beautiful than usual, it’s all I can do to resist kissing you.

“You seem… even more beautiful than usual… It’s all I can do to resist… kissing you?” Denise furrowed her brows. She’d heard of other mothers with sorceress daughters needing to beware of their young ones amidst puberty, but she’d never heard of one suddenly striking a fancy in their twenties. She could still feel the traces of magic in her own mind, a magic so sympathetic to her own that her defenses had been unprepared.

“You can, if you like, mother.” Lydia moved closer to her mother, opening the top two buttons of her blouse. Denise’s frown intensified as she found her gaze lingering on her daughter’s chest.

She knew it was magic, but found herself so confused by the act that her gaze remained where they had been drawn. “Have you perhaps had too much to drink? I’ll let you get away with spelling your mother that much, but if you’re trying to seduce me with the simplest of tricks that I taught you—“

“—then I’ve put all of your lessons to waste?” Lydia’s finger found her mother’s lip, and pressed inside. It was wet, and fruity. Denise’s frown grew as she moved to raise a hand, preparing a spell. Before it could be unleashed, Lydia’s finger hooked to pull her mother so they were nose to nose.

Lydia had always been a sorceress who took what she wanted. Denise had raised her to be that way. She’d trained her to be a sorceress after her own heart, a woman who saw the world as her domain. She was also sure she’d trained a certain amount of respect, but found herself regretting that she had not taught it through arcane means.

“Now you’re simply going too far—“ She spoke as best she could around the finger in her mouth, but found her words cut short as her daughter grasped the back of her head and drew her into a passionate kiss.

Lydia’s tongue was strong, fast, and insatiable. Denise considered biting her daughter’s tongue. It would be only fair to teach her daughter the lesson she’d failed to in such a firm way, but…

That felt somehow so much harsher than she wanted to be. It felt so much former, quicker, than any movement she suddenly seemed capable of. She found herself instead sucking at her daughter’s face, tasting the remnants of whatever wine her daughter had drank before visiting. There was simply so much of it, and she found herself unsure how it was even possible.

Unsure, but too dizzy to break the kiss and ask herself. The taste was so intense, and she could almost feel it pulling her eyes to roll back. Lydia’s hand held her head so firmly in place, and the finger that had previously been hooked in her mouth was now stroking wetly along Denise’s neck.

I love the taste of Lydia’s lips. I need more. I need to keep drinking her spit. I need her! Lydia forced the words into her mother’s head. Between the wine that filled her mouth, and her mother’s shock, she encountered no resistance.

Even when she twisted her mother’s nipple through her blouse, the cry that filled the room did nothing to bring about a swatting hand or her mother pulling away. She sucked more and more desperately at her daughter for every last taste of that taste that made her knees weak and the room spin. Even as she began to feel something tightening inside of her, squeezing, penetrating some place soft and weak, Denise held the kiss.

She simply needed more. She loved the taste of her daughter’s lips.

“That’s enough, Lydia darling. I think if you stopped holding her up, your mother would fall to the floor. I want to watch it happen.” Eva’s voice pierced through the sounds of the Wates’ moans.

A loud wet pop sounded as Lydia broke the kiss and pulled away from her mother. As predicted, she soon fell to her hands and knees panting as wine dripped from the corner of her lips. “Of course, Eva! Mmm whatever you say!” Lydia grinned as she bounced her way over to Eva, and wrapped her arms around her Goddess as she nuzzled into her chest.

“E-eva… Eva... N-no… n-not… Eva… Kensington…? Y-you… Not you…” Denise groaned, wiggling her hips from her place on the floor. She tried to rise, but found her body to weak. She held out her hand, and found her magic silent inside of her. “What… what did you…”

An accented laugh filled the room as Eva kissed the top of Lydia’s head. Wiggles shuddered down her body as Lydia clung tighter, nuzzling into Eva’s chest so desperate for more of the feeling of her warm and loving sun. Wine ran freely down her thighs as she felt the ecstatic bliss that could only be felt from doing just as her Goddess had willed.

“The very same. I plotted this for years, you know. I knew if I went after you with my own magic, in any fashion, you would detect it. I even plotted using another sorceress. Then I realized the one magic you would never see coming, and never be able to resist, was your own. So I found your cute little offspring, filled her with one of my experiments, and sent her home. And you loved every moment of it, didn’t you, Lydia darling?” Eva laughed, so slowly stroking Lydia’s hair even as she brazenly kneaded at her ass.

Denise watched in horror as her vision became more and more blurred. “O-one of your… one of your… p-p-plants…?!” She coulf eel herself slicken, and cursed herself for not sensing something was wrong. Eva must have been so near for her to have this moment of triumph, but far enough away that Denise had never felt her approach.

It was harder and harder to feel magic at all, and easier to feel the dizzying pain of the wine puncturing deeper into her essence. “Oh, my very favorite. Vitis Amare? Vitis Oboedientia? I haven’t decided on a name yet. Tell her what will happen, Lydia.”

Lydia groaned at Eva’s voice, her hips wiggling to rub back against Eva’s hand more and more desperately. “The-the… MmmMmm… The wine… Mmm the grapes… They’re going to root in your brain… Mmm fuse with you… You’ll be whole, like I am, Mother… Mmmm… And you’ll know that Eva is your Goddess, your Purpose, your Sun… Mmm the Plant inside of you will complete you, and you’ll teach it how to use you… just like you taught me.”

Lydia’s voice screeched and Eva’s hand slid under her her skirt, pulled her thong to the side, and began to stroke inside of her sopping cunt. Denise tried not to watch, but it was hard to look away from the sight of her daughter, looking so much like a younger version of herself, desperately riding her rival’s fingers.

“N-no… I won’t… won’t let you…”

“Please, dear. In about an hour you’ll be begging me.” Eva’s laughs and Lydia’s screams filled the room, complimented by the wet shlicking sounds of Eva’s fingers in Lydia’s pussy.

It became Denise’s final lullaby.

Eva reclined in Denise’s bet. To one side, the young Lydia, naked and glistening with sweat and sex, was cuddled up to her. She was asleep, her head on Eva’s equally naked breast. A smile of pure love and contentment shined brightly form her face. To her other side, the more mature naked curves of Denise were pressed every bit as tight. Her face wore the same smile as her daughter’s.

They almost looked like sisters, but the difference in age was not easily missed.

Eva’s blue eyes twinkled in delight as she allowed her hands to grope at their breasts, eliciting only tired mewls. It had been a very long time, but now she had both the one sorceress she had wanted most and the added bonus of her daughter. They would make for a fine crop.

The wine from the two of them alone will make me a fortune. I might even let them pretend to be normal, day by day. Coming home to me. Maybe I’ll take young Lydia as my bride. Mmm marrying my rival’s daughter. I think that sounds like a perfect crop to cultivate. Eva laughed tiredly as she let out a slow sigh.

She was thankful that she had engineered the plant to find her own magic impenetrable, or the carnal delights she’d indulged would have left her every bit as floral as her conquests. She stroked along both of her new pets’ cheeks in unison, and let her eyes slowly drift closed.

For the first time Eva could remember, she felt nothing but satisfaction.

Deep in their obedient slumbers, Lydia and Denise felt much the same.