The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mercury read a bodice ripper in the park. Fall was fully in town, and she enjoyed the sunshine, shocking herself a bit. Her lifestyle now leaned toward fresh air. Who knew? Maybe it was a Fryyk effect these seven months in?

She only noticed the couple when they sat down on either side of her. She had a shock. They were uniformed cops. Fuck.

“We are on lunch,” the short redhead said. Her name tag was Herne. Her partner was tall and looked older. He added, “So we hear you have a special weird with difficult-to-solve problems.” His name tag was Bloom.

Fuck fuck fuck. “Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean,” she tried a smile.

Herne said, “We don’t get it either, but folks we trust rave about you. We have a problem. Maybe you can help us. We can pay. Explain it, Bob.”

Bob’s face looked like he’d lost the coin toss. “Well, a couple of friends play chess over there on Fridays. They told us in a roundabout fashion that you are a call girl who may fix things that are not fair in life. Sandy and I are in lust, but we are happily married to good people. Can you do anything?”

Mercury blinked. She thought folks she’d helped kept their mouths shut. This was a troubling wrinkle. If she got picked up by cops, she’d be fired from the hospital for cause, despite her weird HR file. “You’re kidding. Right?”

Herne looked her in the eye. “Do we sound like we are? This is pretty embarrassing. Going on nearly five years.”

Bloom nodded. “Don’t get hung up on us being cops. We walked past here twice. You aren’t soliciting, but what you wear sure looks like you want to be picked up. So yeah, we need some kind of help. For three good years, we were pals. Buddies. Partners. We can’t get reassigned without telling the precinct why— in depth. Then we’d also have to tell the spouses. And it hurts to even think about that. So I got a hundred in my pocket here just for your ‘advice’. A call-girl who makes cancer pain simply go away might help us, too. Right?” He looked straight into her eyes.

“You two are unbelievable. Do I look like a hooker?”

They both nodded ‘yes’. Herne let her gaze travel down to the white Swarovski flats and back up the ripped black tights to the black latex hot pants. “I can see your nips through that thin tee. You didn’t do that by accident, right?”

Mercury squeezed her thighs on her sopping snatch. “And you cop buddies have been lust pining for five years. Fuck, guys. This is weird. How did this start? No, don’t tell me. Give me a minute to think.”

Bloom pulled five twenties out of his jacket.

Mercury hissed, “Put that away, sir. You don’t pay for what I can’t wrap my head around. Answer some questions. Did this happen suddenly, by surprise, or did it grow like fucking fungus? Do visuals or smells set it off?”

Herne snorted. Bloom said, “You have a shitty mouth.”

Herne said, “Three years together, we were fine. One day we share chili hot dogs for lunch and bang, we’re fantasizing about each other day and night. It was nuts. We can’t shake it. Harder we try, the deeper it goes.”

Mercury closed her eyes. She reached for the warm gold in the darkness inside. OK, then.

She looked at them. “My work is private. My fees are reasonable. I guess a foursome with your spouses is out of the question? It could help.”

Both cops paled and nodded ‘no’. Bloom added, “I’d be a dead man.”

Herne snorted.

Mercury lowered her voice. “Come back, out of uniform. Bring a car with a nice, roomy back seat. Do everything I ask as if I were your domme for thirty minutes. Trust me, it will be easier than what you are doing to yourselves now. There will be some… mind shenanigans. You don’t pay if it doesn’t work. OK? Now you both shall say to me, ‘thank you, mistress three times.”

Bloom frowned, “That’s the goofiest thing I’ve ever heard. You get paid for this kinda bullshit?”

Herne blurted fiercely, “Bob? Shut the fuck up.”

He rolled his eyes.

Mercury glared at him. “So here’s the thing. You don’t trust me. Think I’m a joke? How about Herne gets the cure, and you don’t cause you have no belief? Don’t like the medicine, I think helps? Go fuck yourself. I’m not even sure I can help just one of you. It has to be both consenting.”

Herne leaned and looked at Bloom. “Well?”

Bloom started weeping quietly. “Gah. I’m scared. The wet dreams. I’m tired. My life is a—”

Mercury grabbed his nearest hand. She put his forefinger in her mouth and sucked it. His face went white, but he stopped the tears in seconds. She made a motion with her free hand. “Breathe. Watch my hand. Breathe.” She drifted her hand up and down. She sucked his finger. She watched him ease into a calm place.

Five minutes and he was fine.

“Good god,” said Herne softly. Bloom looked like he was in a daze.

“Now. Consent.” Mercury said softly. “Both on you on three. Thank you, mistress. One. Two. Three.”

Their voices harmonized perfectly. “Thank you, mistress. Thank you, mistress. Thank you, mistress.”

Mercury shuddered through an orgasm. She’d not done two people at once before. The trees held their breath. Her toes curled hard.

The pair were breathing as hard as she was now. They waited.

“Trust me.”

They nodded slowly. She looked at both. “One more time with feeling. One. Two. Three.”

“Thank you, mistress. Thank you, mistress. Thank you, mistress.”

Better. Her cunt boiled hotter the second time. She felt the strange pain of their merciless riddle twisting in their guts. Mercury rocked in place. “Ummm. Oh. Fuck.” She panted. “Once again, my pretties.”

“Thank you, mistress. Thank you, mistress. Thank you, mistress.”

Best. Mercury orbited the Sun in all her glory.

She realized then they were helping her up off the ground. She felt rubbery weak. Then the return tidal rush made her really strong. She gave them her cell number.

They met the next night. Mercury gave them the cure, and thirty minutes later, she thanked them for the $100. “And please, guys, no fucking advertising. OK? Call me if it shakes loose.”

It worked. They did not call her later.

The five faces of the Peers of High Judgment were as still as time in that cold place. This was the way—five Peers ordered to be here by five different Beatifics.

All the story was told. All questions were now answered. Fabulous Fryyk waited for her Peers to finish their hidden, silent deliberation. Long ago, she had been through this once and walked away. This time, she wasn’t sure. Reality was not as well-kept as in those old days. She should have protected Mercury.

The Power of Skin turned the small effigy in front of her to face the baby Sun hanging above in the chamber. “Not guilty by reason of Irreplacable.”

The Power of Whispers turned her effigy face down on the writing desk. “Guilty of grievous harm to Mortal Reality.”

The Power of Calamitous Commerce turned his effigy face down as well. “Guilty. Mortal harm.”

There was an unusual pause. Clocks did not matter here, but the stillness stretched in ways that were vibrantly uncomfortable. The Power of Archives gently turned his effigy to face the miniature Sun. “Not guilty by reason of Irrational Art.”

At last, the Dark Peer nodded. “I invoke a Tradition of Status. In that I am the senior Power present. I will render the deciding verdict after I speak with the Fabulous in private. I thank my Peers for their worthy attendance on this matter of High Judgment.”

Fryyk didn’t know of the Tradition and had never gotten along with his Highness, the Power of Murder. But, alas, something had told her this hearing would not go her way. The damage was vastly serious. She might have done things differently for Mercury. She failed to do so.

This was why giving Love to mortals was out of bounds.

The four Peers who had rendered their decisions left slowly, each giving Fryyk an honest sign they respected everything in her history of doing her All for Her Beatific. Not that it could change anything now.

The Power of Murder, the Prince of Dark Deeds, removed Fryyk and himself to a distant place on the World Tree. It was a dim bar where only the dead mortals present seemed to be having a good time. Actually, Fryyk realized everyone here was dead of an accident. They did not seem to mind.

It was an underlit, cozy place called ‘Shit Happens’. But strangely, her own Power recognized the cozy was Real, she knew a few of the faces. How…intriguing? She bookmarked the location.

The blue-skinned bartender walked their drinks back to their table from the bar. As expected, he first set down the Prince’s drink. “Poison No Blood. And the lady’s ‘Smokey Sharp Stick in the Eye’. Anything from the kitchen then?”

“Not tonight,” said the Prince. The bartender winked at Fryyk and went back to his work.

Fryyk studied the Power of Murder. What was the Prince going to ask her? His duty seemed clear.

“What will I ask?” The Prince nodded. “No. I just read that in your face, Fabulous. There are not many Powers as old as the two of us. There are questions I may ask that the others would find inconvenient or far outside their Powers. And then someone’s Beatific might be annoyed at me if that became widely known. Even my Own Beatific might be… cross.”

Fryyk smiled. “I am often told I am most Inconvenient. Ask.”

“Do you realize I’ve been expecting your own Power to eat you for many centuries? You are volatile. Your Power breaks things. Messy. Imprecise. Yet, you do manage some Art here and there. Somehow, I was looking forward to your end. And now, I find myself perturbed. Here we are with my vote able to end your existence.”

Fryyk puzzled for a few minutes. “Am I allowed to question you? Or is this just a showy monologue?”

The Prince smiled. “Ask. I’d like my unease to be banished.”

“There is no question I failed to protect a mortal near within my Domain. I’m guilty. What are you perturbed about?”

“If I knew, I could Murder it. But I think you fail to look beyond your Power. I had a very inspired side conversation with the Viscountess of Skin. She is young but canny with mortals. It reminded me of something none of the Peers at the trial knew to ask you. I’m not sure if you know it either. Do you recall hearing the term LineDancer?”

Fryyk considered. Browsing through a thousand years of memories was often like trying to unsmoke a cigarette. Rarely fun. “No. It doesn’t seem familiar.”

“Then I must suggest to you that your failure to protect this mortal has created an Accident of Reality. A mortal can wander into LineDancer status; neither a Power nor a Mortal and immune to the Rules of Our Beatifics.”

Fryyk stared. “How? What is that immunity? Inconvenient? Unease?”

“No. Irrational Art. Vivid Euphoria.” He nodded. “Powers defend but rarely introduce new things to Reality. Mortals do. That would be Mercury Tilt’s fault. Not yours.” He smiled slowly. “So you? Not guilty. You are cleared of all Grievances.” He stopped smiling. “But.”

Fryyk felt her heart softly swoon, and her Power itched to hold Mercury in her arms again. But. “But?”

“She doesn’t know what she is, LineDancer of Mortal and Notmortal and NotNoble. You can be charged anew if you tell her, as we know, revealing our secrets to mortals is a Foul Injury to Our Beatifics. So who will help her on her journey? You? It puts you in the way of your Own Beatific. It puts you and Tilt in jeopardy. Every. Day.”

Fryyk bit her lip. “Damn if you aren’t enjoying this. How the hell does a LineDancer survive, if I catch your unease?”

The Prince laughed and shrugged. “Don’t know. In a way. I’m also jealous. I only know of this happening once before. And I have no personal experience. You could introduce me, Accidentally, and I could mentor her.”

Fryyk laughed. “Oh fuck no.” But his comment gave her other ideas for later.

He laughed. “Expected.”

Fryyk frowned. “So my guess is this Other LineDancer perished, so I can’t get help there.”

He nodded. “He did. Long before you were born. Yes. My limited information comes from the Power of Feral Dreams. That Power was written out of Reality since before Rome.”

Fryyk sipped her drink. Felt the pain spike in her eye. Shivered. “Your Highness. I’m not nearly as old as all that.”

The Prince sighed. “Your Beatific keeps you poorly informed. There are only nine Powers older than you, Fryyk. Think on that, will you? The War tears us down. Faster every decade in my experience. You ignore your many accolades. Perhaps Your Beatific does not care for you to know how senior you’ve become.”

That frightenedFryyk.

The Dark Prince smiled. “Well. High Judgment is done and Final. Have fun dodge-dancing around Your Beatific. This tab is mine. Call me if you want a shoulder to cry on, Fabulous. Your methods are shit, but I am very interested in this Tilt.”

“Your help is not wanted, Your Highness. Let’s drink to that.”

They gently touched glasses.

Fryyk appeared at the palace of the Marchese and was itted.

A fancy party was in progress. Some Powers present were known to her, but so very few. Mostly, it was the young crowd. Very modern. Very connected to New Things and therefore powerful in this time. Yet the War to Defend Reality did not go well. Many fallen Powers were Excruciated through these long seasons of the War. Gone.

The Prince could not lie to her. She was older than everyone here. He had gifted her a great Unease.

She kept to the outer edges and waited for the Marchese to have time to talk.

A voice found her. “Oh my, I love your hair. Are you the Baroness of Fashion or the Shield of Water?”

Fryyk politely turned and looked down into the young face of a teen with edgy eyes. “No. Far from it. We haven’t met. I’m just here with a message.”

The youngster Power preened, “You like my eyes, I can tell. Deft of Far Streaming, pleased to meet you.”

“Hullo, Deft. I’m Fryyk.” She offered her hand, as it was the rage again.

Deft gently kissed her knuckles. Grinned at her. “But are you the Shield of Messengers then? I don’t even recall that name, Freeek? Sorry. Am I saying it right?”

“I’m not even—”

The Marchese arrived with perfect timing. “Ah, Deft. Have you met the Fabulous, then? Deft is an amazing hand with reconnaissance. Eyes everywhere.”

Deft gave a small grin of delight. “The Marchese is too kind.” Then his face stilled. Blushed. “Wait, You are -the- Fabulous? Oh my many sainted clicks.”

Fryyk smiled. “The Marchese always knows what to say.”

“Deft, excuse us. Business before pleasure.” The Marchese guided Fryyk outside to a moonlit terrace. “I am surprised. Our Beatific apprised me you would not return from trial. And I’m glad I don’t have to amnesia-blood Tilt. Are you whole? Did they have to…?”

“Just wanted you to know I appreciate everything you offered,” Fryyk whispered to him. “I am shaken but well.”

The Marchese studied her. “It isn’t right, but I think…well, I expect—that Our Beatific is not going to be thrilled with this outcome. I am worried for you. Please try not to be so much Fryyk for a few years. Our Beatific may adjust.”

“In any way I can, dear fellow,” and she meant it. He knew they did not have the option to lie to each other. She knew her answer avoided the lie. How could she be anything else but Fryyk? How could he not be himself? That was what had driven them apart.

And now…Mercury.

On the sad, damp new couch, Mercury and Fryyk twined in a radiant post-sex glow.

“So why a dog, sweets? Is it so people just don’t look hard at you? Could you teach that?” Mercury wanted a cigarette. Sexy. She was a lazy jumble of hot new vices.

“Let me pretend you never asked. I’m not a teacher nor a role-model.” Fryyk could not dodge-dance and teach a mortal such skills. If it were even possible for her adored to learn. “Best case would be if I actually convinced you that you were a dog pretending to be a person. Not happening.”

“No. Fuck. No.” Mercury laughed. “I meant teach me to have folks not look hard at me. Or mis me?”

“No.”

“Craft me a Cloak of DontLook?”

“No.”

Mercury sighed.

“Besides, I’m learning more from you than the other way around.” Fryyk smiled. Much harder to do that. But so illuminating. Hot.

Mercury looked intrigued. There was a very sexy texture in Fryyk’s comment.

Sometimes the urge to ask Fryyk what the fuck her real job was…reminded her she did not want Spock ears. “Can we talk about your Boss?”

“No.”

“We swore an oath to cherish each other. That was real.” Mercury stroked her lover’s nipples.

“Which is exactly why I said no. You are just right for me as you are. Knowledge always changes a person. Simple rule. As the dwarves say, ‘don’t ask a question you can’t afford to pay for’.”

Mercury leaned very close. “Dwarves underground? Real D&D dwarves? Tell me about them?”

Fryyk kissed her in a for-Hell’s-sake shut up style. That took a while.

The three young men roughed and pushed and then pinned Mercury Tilt into the wall of the service alley. They easily outweighed her three times or more. One took her small purse. He inspected the contents while the other two smiled at her flushed consternation.

“So you been doing work for weeks but you got no traffic, girl. You got no protection. You got friends but maybe they old and they sure not here. You don’t own this neighborhood. You just a dumb whore.” He looked up from the purse. “Seriously, all the cash you have is $70? You lazy.” He tossed the purse on the ground, taking nothing.

“Um. Wow. I guess I can go then,” Mercury was both scared and sloppy hot now. She knew he was not a customer. Just a mean man-child who knew she was whoring. Fuck. She looked vulnerable, and suddenly she was. She wasn’t judged important when people took her at face value. Apparently, while the hospital thought her work was now vital policy, these guys had shakedown vibes. He was right. No one was going to save her ass.

“You can’t go anywhere if I break your leg. Can’t fuck and suck either.” He stared at her. “You dumb. Ain’t pretty. Dress like trash. What we supposed to do with you? You give hand jobs to old guys playing chess in the park. What the fuck is that? You mental?”

These guys were not TV bad guys. They were going to hurt her. Her heart thudded like an angry anvil trying to make her get down and be small. Clanging. Beating.

“Look—.” Mercury blurted.

Leader man slapped her face. Painslut! The orgasm was fast. She gasped and squirted her pants and sucked her lower lip. Exciting.

“Oh, you def mental.” He slapped her again.

Her sex raged and she came three times. “WAIT! How would you like 90k?”

All three faces focused on her and leaned closer. The leader studied her fear. He did not see her rage. He did not know she would try to save him from Fryyk.

If she could.

Mercury felt her mind so dark and gold. “I got money. I’ll buy your protection. You guys can be quiet, right? Good for you. Good for me.”

“Keep talking, whore.”

She adored that he made her hotter, stronger every time he said ‘whore’. OK, then. “Easy money. Can’t get it from ATM, you know, right?”

“Yeah, so how you do it? Sounds like fucking mental to me.”

Mercury straightened. Her clit was vibrating. These guys were infectious in this community. Was she the antibiotic treatment? If she went home bloody, there would be serious trouble. She did not want her warrior lover avenging her. She’d save herself. Big, fast lies. “I got a stash. Banks are no place for my money. Got real. Got counterfeit too. You can have both. But you can’t tell. Cops pick me up, you guys go down with me. I pay you off. We both win.”

He stepped closer and grabbed her tee. He lifted her off the ground. She could not believe how strong he was. She shivered. “Don’t tell me your problems. Tell me about the money.”

She nodded and sang falsehoods. “The money. So much. So green. Like the bathtub is full. Hot money. I climb in naked and just rub myself on the money. It’s a hot fucking high. Makes me so fucking wet. Could be I don’t know how much money. So slick. Green. You take it and leave me be. Once you see it, you be fucking cool as shit. The smell of money gets me so hot. I give it away. Take it all. Or take me with the money, even better. Cause money my drug. Every bit. Ten dollar. Fifty dollar. I love it all. You love it. Picture me and hot money. We tight. So fucking hot.”

Their faces were all so open. So connected. They wanted to hurt her. She didn’t want to hurt them. But maybe they just needed to heal. Their eyes gleamed with arousal. She was connected to them just so fast.

“If you have my money, then I am yours too. I can’t use all I got. So you want it more than me. That’s fine. That money yours now. Fuck. I hope you like it as much as me. Then we the same hot and nasty. But let’s get it fast. Now. Let’s share the money and all problems disappear. Bang. Fuck. Money fix everything. Fix you right up. Fuck. Come and get my money.“

She deftly got her toes on the ground.

He smiled at her and whispered like foreplay. “You mental.” Mercury shivered.

They stared at her. Let her slow walk out of the alley, leading them along. She didn’t want to hurt them. But now what? She hummed about money. She picked tunes out of the air that felt like rolling in cash. Predators stalked behind her. If she ran, they’d beat the shit out of her. And her job description. Whore. No. Focus more on the moment. Money. She looked over her shoulder and twitched her ass. “Money. For sure. You dream it. You got it. No argument from me. Fucking hot money.”

They closed up with her. She walked faster, trying to understand the ocean of need she manipulated. What did they expect to see? She meant nothing to them. But they could be part of a bigger gang. Her whore games were crazy to them. No. Not quite crazy. Money was the only power they needed. That was the lust they had.

She swung around suddenly and faced them. “Fellas.”

They stopped when they bumped into her. Each of them pressed down on her horny dark and gold. Predators. Their faces so open. Lusting. Wanting. Power.

Tilt felt strong. She did not need to hurt them.

She pressed her fingers into their jeans pockets. She felt their erections. She stuffed all the dreams of her money into their pants. Thick green dreams. One after the other and then again and again. “Here it is. All of it. Spend it so good. No money in jail. No money in dumb whore shakedowns. No money in prison. Gotta keep your money safe. Be good to your mom and sisters. Be good to family. Money flows to good people. Help people. The money set you free. See ya laters. I’m broke.”

She walked on eggshells back past the hospital. Never looked back over her shoulder. Got in her car and drove home.

Mercury banged through the front door and straight away found Fryyk reading on the floor and flopped on top of her, holding on for dear life.

The sweet body-to-body song lasted as long as it was needed. A week of comfort, perhaps?

Then Fryyk murmured, “How was your day?”

Mercury whispered, “Today I considered killing three men. I’m scared. Of me.”

Fryyk nodded. “Tell me how good it feels not to kill. And everything else you want to say.”

Mercury smiled into Fryyk’s small tits. She started slow. She kept going and did not leave out the worst of her or the worst of them. The hot fear came back with her recall. So much the worst confrontation of a broken world that violates people every fucking day. Then she was spent. Quiet. The fear was exhausted. “I don’t think ‘cook your own brain’ is a good habit. I do not want to like it.”

“Good to know. But being a part of a tough Reality, you need to Defend who you are. Against those who want you to be something less You.” Fryyk squeezed Mercury’s ass. “That’s all it takes! Knowing that we’re not going to kill, today!”

“Huh. What’s that from?”

“The last bit was Captain James T. Kirk. Star Trek. Good show. How about we order pizza now?”

“Yeah. Then fucking.”

In the dark, Mercury rolled over and kissed Fryyk’s nipple. “A couple of times now, you’ve said when you leave, as if inevitably, that the weird will fade away after time. I’ll be fully myself. Is that still true after the Deceiver attack? Because in the last week or so, I’ve felt scared of how lit my world is. Everything is more exciting. More real. Even you are more Real.”

Fryyk was not going to hide behind a Beatific Rule. “Maybe you are realizing how strong you always were?”

Mercury smiled and kissed the tit again. “In stories, they say the Fae cannot lie but are darned good at concealing their meaning. But those stories are not about the Fae, are they? They are about you and your secrets, your coworkers, and your creepy Boss. Bosses?? Did we meet by accident, or are we something that will last?”

Fryyk sighed. “We did. We may. Things around me are not always to my liking. But I adore you more than bees love flowers. And I told you I was Cursed. Not a slave, but it would be hard to explain the notable difference. But we can also work on this relationship.”

“And someday you’ll just be gone.” Mercury felt surprised she could say it so calmly.

Fryyk wrapped Mercury in her Power and stretched all awareness to stay serene. “We have different journeys to take. Sometimes I’ll go and come back. Sometimes you’ll travel and come back. That’s as much as I know. My intent is to come back to you.”

A beat, then Fryyk added, “I am Cursed as a warrior and some day, I’ll be out-matched or make a risky choice, and fail. There will be a messenger, or maybe a friendly face, who will find you and say, ‘Fryyk is Gone.’ That is a choice about me you may accept.”

Mercury did not like that at all. But it sounded True.