The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sunday morning rose languidly, and so did Danica Cain. Her crystal blue eyes fluttered open in the early morning light, filtering in through the half-curtained windows of the apartment of her friends Josh Wiltman and Gina Harris. The two had been high school sweethearts since Danica had first met them her freshman year, and they had graduated together just a few months earlier. The two lovebirds had moved in together immediately after graduation, and Danica liked to visit for a weekend here or there.

And a hell of a visit it had been, too. Josh and Gina were very…open…in their relationship, and while they were both keen to bring another woman into their bed, it needed to be someone they trusted. That person, of course, was Danica. None of them had done anything sexual before they were eighteen. But now that that threshold had been breached, they wanted to get in as much practice as they could.

Gina was a beautiful young woman. While Danica had natural, golden blonde locks, Gina’s hair was so dark it was almost black. Her skin was a Mediterranean tone, a gift from her Italian mother. Another gift from her mother’s side was her large breasts, but where her mother was a somewhat large woman, Gina had taken after her more diminutive father, leaving her oversized tits sitting perfectly atop a slender frame.

Josh had the stereotypical high school jock body. He had played basketball the first three years of high school and football all four years. He worked out almost religiously, and had the muscular physique and youthful stamina to prove it. But no amount of working out could have given him Danica’s favorite quality, which was the impressive ten inch cock between his legs. As she started to shrug off her sleep, she smiled at the memory of when it had been between hers.

Her smile grew as she looked to either side of her to see the sleeping couple. Josh, of course, was the big spoon, his still hand resting on Danica’s left breast, his cock nestled just below her ass. Danica, in turn, had her arm around Gina, the fingers of her left arm just about an inch from the other woman’s cunt. She could almost feel the warmth even now.

Josh and Gina were good people. Well, she thought to herself, now they are. In their early years in high school, not so much. They had been the cliché high school power couple: he the popular jock, she the cheerleader elitist, both of them savage bullies. Danica, being a preternaturally beautiful young woman and coming from money, was spared their bullying, and in her adolescent naivety, she didn’t see it as such until later.

Danica was sixteen when her meta-human powers manifested. Fortunately for her, Darren and Veronica Cain, her father and mother, had strongly suspected she was a meta from the day she was born. Her blond hair, there from day one, was a dead give-away, as both her parents had dark hair, and there could be no doubt about Veronica’s fidelity. No wife has ever adored her husband the way Veronica did. Danica knew that for certain.

Still, even with the guidance, training, and discipline they taught her, it was frightening, reading people’s minds. As a rule, Danica avoided doing it to friends and family, unless absolutely necessary, or unless she had reason to fear for their safety. But neither Josh nor Gina had been her friend. Someone who was her friend, though, was Stephanie Dawson.

The Dawson incident was a messy affair. It had been Danica’s first act of heroism, technically, although she went to great lengths to disguise the fact. She hadn’t been there when Josh and Gina had humiliated her in the cafeteria. But she had bumped into her as Steph ran from the high school in tears. It was a lucky thing, too, because in her concern, Danica forgot not to read her friend’s mind, and she caught a glimpse of Stephanie’s plan. A quick sneak out of her house and to Stephanie’s, and a desperate mental suggestion to Steph’s mother, allowed the high schooler to be found before it was too late, and to get Steph the help she needed afterward.

But that was only part of Danica’s first real use of her power. In her training and her practice, Danica had learned not just to read minds, but to manipulate them. Specifically, she was able to shunt a person’s primary personality to the background and replace it with one of her own design, basically forcing them into a fugue state. This is why she took the super-heroine codename Fugue. She did this to Josh and Gina, making them guilt-ridden and repentant. Over the next year and a half, they more than made it up to Stephanie, if such a thing were possible.

But while Danica, like her parents, wanted to make the world a better place, she was still a young woman with a young woman’s desires, and a young woman’s hormones. While it was certainly not the most hero-like thing to do, Danica was not one to waste an opportunity. And that was why she built in a second fugue-state personality for the two former bullies, one she had put to very good use since the last of them turned eighteen.

Responding to a mostly unconscious command from Danica, both Josh and Gina woke at precisely the same moment. Danica, though in an awkward position, moved to look at each of them in turn. “Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning, Mistress,” they replied in unison.

Okay, so, her parents would have a meltdown if they knew their innocent little meta-human daughter had used her powers to turn two ludicrously hot classmates into her faithful sex slaves. She wasn’t hurting anybody. They were getting plenty of pleasure out of it, as well. And besides, who knows what further horrors those two would have unleashed in their high school if Danica hadn’t stopped them? This was just sort of a bonus, a tip for services rendered.

And, on the subject of tips, Danica could feel Josh’s beginning to shift and grow harder. She playfully wiggled her ass to tease it, drawing a pleasurable moan from the man. He gripped her breast tighter, then ran a thumb gently over her nipple. Danica shuttered and pushed back against him to press against his stiffening cock.

Danica leaned forward to whisper in Gina’s ear. “Your boyfriend’s going to fuck me now. How do you feel about that?”

Gina smiled as a blissful wave washed over her. “I feel great about it, Mistress. May I watch?”

“Of course, my pet,” Danica said. “In fact, why don’t you get out that big pink vibrator you keep in the bottom drawer and have some fun yourself.”

Gina squealed in delight and she rolled out of bed, eager to obey. Danica moved to reposition herself, lifting one leg up enough to allow Josh to slip in. Danica was already wet, knowing from experience how good he was at what he was about to do.

As Josh worked himself into position and slowly eased himself inside his mistress, Gina took up her place in the armchair next to the bed. She was naked, the neatly trimmed triangle of her bush already glistening as she rubbed herself with her free hand. With the other, she worked her favorite sex toy out of its black bag as she watched.

Danica liked women, and wouldn’t have minded including Gina more directly, but sometimes it was the thought of making Gina watch, of making Gina approve, of her boyfriend fucking another woman that got the meta-human going. And this morning was one of those times. As Josh repeatedly thrusted his impressive cock into her over and over, Danica kept her eyes trained solely on Gina, who was fucking herself along with Josh’s rhythm.

They had been going for several minutes when Danica pulled away. With barely more than a gesture, she positioned Josh on his back, his head pointed toward Gina and his smaller head pointing straight up. Never breaking eye with Gina, Danica mounted him, riding his cock hard while Gina sat on the edge of orgasm.

Just when she sensed Josh was getting close, Danica switched again, this time getting on her hands and knees on the bed, still staring at Gina. Josh took his mistress’s cue instantly and knelt behind her, his practiced cock instantly finding her slick pussy. This time, the pleasure was almost too much for him, and he lasted only a couple of minutes.

As he pulled out of Danica, he stood up on the bed, jerking to finish himself off. Danica had been close, and so she triggered one of the mental commands she had installed in her own psyche to make her orgasm. As Josh shot his load down the small of Danica’s back, she felt her body answer with a thunderous climax of her own. In the armchair, Gina convulsed, the sight of her mistress and her lover as they came pushing her over the edge.

It was about an hour later, after everyone had showered, that the three sat down to breakfast. Josh had whipped up some sausage and eggs, which were delicious, and Gina was switching back and forth between scrolling on her phone and talking with the other two.

“So, how did you sleep, Danica?” Gina asked. “We don’t have guests over very often, so that spare bed doesn’t get used much.”

Danica fought back a smug smile. Gina—this Gina—didn’t that they had all slept together in the master bedroom. This was what Fugue referred to as the decompression personality. She had installed one in each of them. In the same way that a deep-sea diver needs to decompress so as not to cause illness, Danica believed that the further away one of her Fugue states was from the person’s ordinary personalities, the more they needed steps to come back into themselves. Because she had Josh and Gina permanently set to the “nicer” versions of themselves, she only required the one intermediate step away from their “sex slave” set.

“It was just fine, Gina,” Danica said cheerily. “Thank you guys so much. It’s been wonderful to catch up.”

“Any time,” Gina said with a smile.

“Yeah, it’s fun to hang out with you again, like we did last year,” Josh added. “It’s weird that we didn’t really become friends until senior year.”

Gina looked over at her boyfriend. “Well, you and I both had some growing up to do. I think we were a little too self-centered for real friends like Danica.”

“Oh, that’s sweet, Gina,” Danica said, feeling slightly guilty about the mind-fuck job she had done on them. Then she ed why she had done it in the first place, which was always a strong balm against that particular guilt.

Gina smiled at her. “So you going back home, then?”

“Not directly, but yeah, after breakfast I’ll head out. I wanted to do some shopping today and get back home tonight. It’s been a great long weekend, but there is something to be said about sleeping in your own bed.”

“For sure,” Josh agreed. “You still live with your parents, don’t you? Any plans on moving out?”

“Not really,” Danica said. “The house is huge, and I have a lot of privacy, and my parents are great, and—”

As she talked, she let the last of her own fugue state fade away. She found it easier to play with her pets when she gave herself a slightly tweaked version of her own personality, one that reveled in sexual control. As she dropped it, however, her true personality reasserted itself, and she felt something that turned her blood cold.

Danica loved her mother and father very, very much. They were extremely close, and her parents had decided, especially once Danica’s meta-human abilities manifested, not to keep secrets from her. She knew they were heroes, and she respected them for the risks they took and the sacrifices they made. They were, of course, what inspired her to become a superheroine herself.

But she did keep a few secrets from them. She had a good reason to. Her parents were heroes, but not, in the strictest sense of the word, “superheroes.” Neither of them were meta-human, and therefore both were susceptible to the eerie and sometimes devastating powers metas could bring to bear.

Therefore, in order to protect them, she had deceived them. It was a lie of omission, to be fair, but still a deceit. From the day Tenebraen and Veil had learned their daughter was a meta, they had tried to measure, to test, and to catalog. Darren Cain had worked tirelessly to figure out just how powerful she was, what her range was, and so forth. But Danica had always been smart, and what Tenebraen thought could be measured in meters could instead be measured in miles.

Danica’s fugue state, the one she used when she used Gina and Josh, was a lot more selfish than her usual self. It still cared about and loved her parents, it just didn’t think about them much. Danica had learned quickly that it was difficult to order around your mind-fucked sex slaves when you’re constantly thinking about how disappointed in you your hero parents would be.

Because of this, her telepathic connection with her parents was more or less muted when she used the fugue state. It was still there, and if Tenebraen and Veil’s lives were ever in peril, she would know instantly. But otherwise, thoughts of them were shunted to the back of her mind.

As her true self came back to her, Danica immediately sensed the change in her parents’ minds. Where she usually sensed love, concern, honor, responsibility, and all the other hallmarks of protectors of the city, she instead sensed only blind, unwavering, unthinking devotion. And it was not to one another, as she usually sensed from them. Who or what that devotion was to, she had no idea, but this could only mean trouble.

She suddenly realized that she had stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, and both Gina and Josh were staring at her. She smiled, laughed it off as a joke, and quickly changed the subject, but she couldn’t shake the question of what had happened to Darren and Veronica Cain.

Danica left her friends’ place around eleven, then killed time running to a few different stores. Her telepathy was strong, but not strong enough to read a mind from this distance, so she had no way to figure out what was going on at home. Clearly, her parents had been mentally compromised, despite the training they had gotten from Fortress. That meant one of two things: either her enemy was very strong, or Fortress’s training was rubbish.

Based on what she knew, she had to assume the former. She had never actually met Fortress herself, but the other superheroes she knew, including her parents, spoke well of her. And her parents had strong wills. They would not surrender them easily. Because she could not know who or what she would be facing, Danica could not risk going home yet.

A portion of the answer came in the early afternoon, when her father texted her. In the text, he told her that “something had come up.” She knew instantly what that meant, or rather what it was supposed to mean. Between the three of them, they had established that if any of them ever texted or said that to the others, there was some hero-ing to be done. Danica was smart enough to see that this was an attempt to get Tenebraen and Veil away from Fugue and her telepathy.

His second text told her even more. It said that an old friend of the family, a woman who Danica didn’t know, was visiting. Obviously, that had to be the person who had compromised her parents. So, whoever it was wanted to get her alone. That told Danica that they seemed confident that, one on one, they could defeat Fugue.

The final, and most important, piece of information came when her mother sent her an encrypted message. This came to the communication device her father had developed, not the commercial phone she carried. It said the woman who was staying at the house was a “reflector,” and so it would be dangerous to read her mind.

Danica smiled as she read her mother’s message. Working on the assumption that her parents were being controlled, and therefore everything they were messaging her was a lie, that told her something crucial. This woman was afraid of Fugue and her abilities. That was decidedly good news.

But above all else, Danica Cain was her parents’ daughter. There was no sense in being overconfident, especially not with an almost totally unknown foe. Whoever she was, she had clearly taken possession of both Tenebraen and Veil. It was conceivable that this villainess wasn’t afraid, just cautious. Fugue, therefore, would need to be the same.

Danica spent the rest of the afternoon carefully crafting a new fugue state for herself. Starting with her regular personality, she dialed down the suspicion and critical thinking, and dialed up the curiosity and gullibility. She gave the new personality the knowledge of her parents’ texts and made her believe them. And, working on a hunch, she dialed up the libido, although this was usually pretty high anyway.

The most important step came at the end. She needed a trigger to end the fugue state, but she also needed the memories intact but inoperable. It wouldn’t help anything to undue the woman’s control, whatever it was, only to have it happen again. To this end, she set up a series of decompression personalities, each one experiencing what had happened to the first through foggier and foggier lenses. Only when her deepest unconscious was certain she was not being affected would she come back to herself. And it would all start when she and the woman fell asleep.

When Danica’s eyes fluttered open, the moonlight was streaming through the window of her parents’ bedroom. She was in their bed, along with a gorgeous, naked, red-haired woman. It took Danica a few minutes to process what had happened. The last thing she ed was closing the door of her car on the way home.

That must have been my trigger, she thought to herself. So this must be the woman who mind-fucked Mom and Dad.

She looked over the sleeping woman next to her, and it was not hard to see how she could have pulled it off. The woman was stunning, with flowing red hair, skin that almost glowed in the moonlight, and large, perfect breasts sitting atop a toned and slender frame. Even if she didn’t have any mind control powers, she would still be almost irresistible.

As the fog of sleep started to clear in Danica’s head. Memories began to come back, filtered through layer upon layer of fugue personas. The final result was a series of half-glimpsed memories of her evening with this woman. The name “Insinua” flittered across her mind, as well as the knowledge that that name carried a goddess-like devotion from her fugue-state self.

Slowly, lying as still as possible so as not to rouse the villainess, Danica pieced together the events that led her here. She had come into her home, her dining room, and met Insinua. They had talked, and then Insinua had said something, a string of nonsense words that her mind refused to . They must have been the key: some kind of trigger phrase.

She saw herself talking to the beautiful redhead at the dining room table, leaning forward like she was fascinated by every word. She saw the woman move closer, caress her cheek, her arm, and then kiss her. She watched as her mind replayed their walk, her crawl, to her parents’ bedroom, and the incredible sex the two metas had there. Her decompression fugues did their job; she saw everything, but felt no devotion to the woman.

She still wasn’t entirely sure how Insinua had accomplished her mental victory, but it didn’t matter. What mattered now was turning the tables. The villainess lay asleep just inches from Fugue. If she did have mental defenses, they would be at their weakest now, when Insinua was in no position to defend herself. And anyway, Danica was confident in her own power.

Although Danica would never it it to anyone, especially her parents, using her power on others always turned her on. There was something just so impossibly hot about being in complete control of someone’s mind, especially when that someone was one of the most incredible-looking women she had ever seen. With a little smug smirk and her right hand drifting down toward her cunt, Danica got to work.

She slipped her mental probe into Insinua’s mind like a lubricated strap-on into a dripping wet pussy. She was surprised at how easy it was. Her telepathy allowed her to read minds, but it was not as simple as hearing someone else think. She could pick up someone’s internal monolog well enough, but to delve deeper was much more surreal. It was more impressions than thoughts, more feeling than thinking. And with Insinua sleeping, there was no inner monolog to anchor the process.

Time was also a strange concept within someone else’s mind. So even though it felt like a very long time that she was rooting around in Insinua’s, it was impossible to know how long it truly was. But eventually Danica figured out the system of images and impressions that made Insinua who she was.

She felt the arrogance, the selfishness, and the lust. She felt the weight of her need to control like a boulder. She felt the primal joy at humiliating and conquering her victims. But there were good qualities mixed in there, too. Danica perceived the other woman’s patience like a stone wall, with just a few cracks in the mortar here and there. She felt the warmth of genuine affection, even despite the drive to control and humiliate. And, most surprising of all, she discovered a profound love of both receiving and giving pleasure.

In Danica’s experience, it was always better to craft a fugue persona from elements that were already there. She started small, just a mental image of a red-haired doll in the middle of Insinua’s brain-space. Into this doll, she mirrored that patience, taking the threads of her willingness to wait and braiding it into an element of submissiveness, the excited waiting for the next command. She mixed in the affection, but made herself the object of that affection. And she dialed up the love of giving pleasure, and tied the receiving of it to obedience.

As the doll grew to something close to life-size, at least in the twisted perception of the mind, Danica then drew the negative qualities out. The arrogance was replaced with pride in service. The selfishness was superseded by an intense drive to be the best sex slave ever. The lust she kept, but again tied it to her new sense of submission. She kept shaping this new persona in Insinua’s mind, sculpting it like clay, adding this trait, submerging that one, polishing it relentlessly until it was a complete personality, but one that suited Fugue’s will.

Finally, she was finished crafting. Danica’s mind zoomed out, picturing the doll version of Insinua standing next to the true one. Her fugue persona was transparent and flickering, while the villainess’s real persona looked solid. With a surge of will, Danica made the switch, and suddenly it was the fugue state that looked solid. Satisfied with the job, she quickly constructed several more. These were much easier to make. They were just stages between the other two, her decompression fugues. The final step was to create one that had almost no personality whatsoever. It had Insinua’s memories, but little else.

With that, Danica broke the connection and opened her eyes. It was still night, but she could tell that the dawn was coming soon. A few moments after coming back into her own mind, the pleasure of her masturbation hit her like a wave, and she had to bite her lip to stop from screaming out an unintentionally delayed orgasm. Once the tremors ed, she slowly removed her fingers from her pussy and looked over at her newest slave.

Insinua was still asleep, and Fugue knew she would be no more trouble. But there were still a few things she needed to know. With a flick of her mental powers, she switched Insinua to the blank persona and commanded her to wake up. The woman instantly woke, her emerald eyes staring blankly ahead.

Danica repositioned herself to be sitting against the pillows at the headboard. “Come up here, slave.”

Insinua said nothing, but obeyed instantly. Danica spent the next twenty minutes interrogating the former villainess, getting every detail of her plan, every move she had made. She learned about the enslavement of Veronica’s friend Tracy Dixon and Tracy’s previous mistress Hattie Tanaka. She learned that Insinua had instructed her parents to return to the house at ten. When she knew everything, she put Insinua back to sleep, then switched her to her full slave persona.

It was around eight in the morning when Insinua finally woke up. She stretched, yawned, and smiled up at Danica. “Good morning, Mistress.” Fugue smiled at the confusion in her new slave’s face. “Wait, did I just call you Mistress, Mistress?”

“Yes, slave. You certainly did. Good girl.”

Insinua threw her head back at those words, an orgasm ripping through her at the very thought of her Mistress’s approval. After a moment, she managed to speak. “Thank you, Mistress. How did you enslave me? I thought I had enslaved you.”

Danica shifted to stroke Insinua’s long hair. “In time, my pet. But I need to speak with my parents first. And since you told them to be home around ten, we have almost two hours to kill. Why don’t you busy that tongue of yours with something more productive?”

Fugue moved the blanket aside and spread her legs, her pussy still glistening. With a little squeal of glee, Insinua moved downward. Danica’s memories of what the two of them had done the previous night were incomplete, glimpsed through enough decompression fugues to prevent any accidental brainwashing, but she did not Insinua going down on her.

The villainess’s tongue was soft, dexterous, and eager. Danica had not been sexually active for very long, only a few months, really, and all of the people she had been with so far were fairly inexperienced. Although Danica doubted Insinua went down on her slaves often, it was obvious that the redhead was far from inexperienced.

Danica’s first orgasm built fast under the attentions of Insinua’s mouth. She tried to hold herself back, even vaguely debated ordering her slave to stop, but the climax hit her like a sudden storm. This time, she did nothing to stifle her euphoric screams. Insinua slowed, but did not stop, until Danica recovered enough to reach down, grab hold of her slave’s chin, and guided her up for a deep kiss.

“Did I please you, Mistress?”

Danica just nodded vigorously. After a moment, she ed one of the confessions Insinua had made in her mindless state. “Slave,” she said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Go get that strap-on you had. I want to bend you over and have some fun.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Insinua said, giddy and obedient. As Insinua slid off Darren and Veronica’s bed, Fugue smiled and glanced at the clock. It was still quite a while before her parents would come home. She intended to make the most of it.