The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Autumn gags soon as Barry’s good idea concoction hits her throat. She would have spit it up right away, but Joanna puts a glass of water to her mouth and tilts it at her. “It tastes good,” Joanna says. “Like orange bubblegum.”

Autumn fights at first. Every instinct wants to purge the amino acid cocktail in a spew of projectile vomit. The glass of water, chasing it down, putting the taste farther and farther from her tongue with each gulp. “Good, like orange bubblegum,” Joanna whispers. “That tastes so good, doesn’t it, Autumn?”

“Orange bubblegum,” Autumn smiles, once the water’s finished. “Can I have some more?” Her eyes are red and wet from gagging. She’s spilled some down her chin.

“I can tell you’re a girl who loves how certain things taste,” Ed tells her.

Autumn smiles, recognizing herself.

“The flavors of sex, right?” Ed laughs, nodding. Autumn laughs too, craving the flavors suddenly, ultra-aware of her mouth.

Joanna is jealous Ed’s doing this. She doesn’t want to be here and dislikes Autumn.

“Your biggest fantasy is to be a whore,” Joanna says.

Autumn listens. Thinking of being a whore melts through her like a communion wafer. Autumn whoring herself excites her cerebral cortex; it immediately recognizes herself as a whore as her best idea ever. She gets turned on being sexual for money.

Ed speaks now, picking right up where Joanna left off, telling Autumn, “That kind of fantasy is best kept secret.”

“Yes,” she agrees, instantly. Autumn doesn’t want everyone to find out she wants to be a whore. Her parents would be disappointed. Best to keep it secret.

“I mean, we could fulfill your biggest fantasy. You know,” Ed goes on, “like since we already know you so well you’ve admitted to us the secret thing you hide from everyone else… With me and Joanna is the only time I can see it being okay for you to be a sexy whore.”

“Our secret,” Autumn whispers. “Okay?”

“Ed’s secret,” Ed says, and the echo of Ed’s Secret reverberates through her.

Ed’s secret. Ed’s secret. Autumn’s secret fantasy to be a whore is Ed’s secret. Ed’s.

“It’s sexy depending on me for the fantasy you think about all the time – for your purpose on Earth.”

To be a whore.

To be sexual for money.

Autumn imagines money—the sight of it, Ed giving her money – and her pussy quivers, her clit engorges, her vagina lubricates for action.

She’s dirtying her panties.

“You can’t think of anything I couldn’t pay you to do.” Ed smiles that smile: we’re just playing. Isn’t this fun? “Try to think of something you’d refuse to do for money. No such thing exists, right?”

Autumn tries. Every time she thinks of something, she’s willing to do it. Her thoughts become increasingly extreme, and the extent to which she goes amazes her. Autumn realizes she’ll do absolutely anything for money. She’s such a whore!

“Such a whore,” Autumn whispers softly.

Joanna watches, spellbound. She remembers how it felt, the delicious wash of complete, unquestioning certainty. If it’s said or if it’s thought, it’s true. Autumn is a whore, a secret whore, just as Joanna can’t get enough of Ed’s dick in her pussy. Joanna unfastens the front of her jeans to play with herself, as she always does when she’s turned on. This gets her thinking about Ed’s dick, which is hardly removed from her thoughts anyway. She wants his cum in her pussy. Joanna always wants that. Ask her to describe Ed’s cum, she says precious. Ask her how she feels about it inside her. She’s greedy for it. It’s always these same two adjectives because Ed used these words when Joanna was hyper-receptive to suggestion last week.

Ed doesn’t even hardly notice Joanna’s fingers twisting casually down her panties. He’s seen it so many times it’s wallpaper. He remembers something – Ed thinks Charlie Sheen said it – you don’t pay a whore for sex; you pay her to leave afterward.

Autumn is new pussy, which Ed craves, but he’s not looking for another Joanna to be obsessed with him every waking moment, always underfoot.

“You only like pocket change when you’re being my whore,” Ed says. “Too much money and you feel like a real whore, which makes you panic. You only want to be a fantasy whore. For a fantasy whore, a quarter is a lot of money. You’ll do just about anything for much less. This is so sexy, you being a whore, Autumn.”

The money Autumn pictures in her mind suddenly becomes loose change. Handfuls of nickels and pennies. Imagining her fingers raking through them dampens her pussy with longing.

“What would you do for a nickel, Autumn?” Ed asks.

Her eyes fixate on him, wide as wheelbarrows. “Anything,” she admits, not even trying to negotiate.

Ed digs into his pocket. “Really, anything?”

Autumn’s eyes fix on that nickel like she expects it to start telling jokes.

“Have you ever given a blowjob, Autumn?”

She nods, “I’m really good at it too.”

“You’d suck my dick for a nickel?”

Autumn nods, enthusiastically.

“But you said anything, right?” Ed reminds her. “That means you’d suck my dick, eat out Joanna and fuck me for the same amount.”

“Okay,” Autumn agrees.

“I bet you’d do it cheaper than that though,” Ed suggests. “What if I just gave you a couple of pennies?”

The drug is peaking. This part of the experience had overwhelmed Joanna. Every idea felt so right. Joanna became focused on Ed’s dick, a shag carpet of Ed dicks.

Autumn wants pennies.

“What if I gave you one penny?”

“Yes,” Autumn says. “I’ll do it.”

Ed laughs. “Are you telling me you’re only worth one penny? One penny is all it costs for you to do anything?”

“Yes,” Autumn says.

“This is sexy,” Ed tells her. “It’s sexy being cheap. It must make you hot to only cost one penny.”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Hot.” Autumn’s hands can’t stop touching Ed. She licks her lips. Her nipples press hard through her shirt. She makes eye contact to entice Ed to give up a cent. “Please,” she whispers.

Ed tosses the penny on the floor and Autumn pounces on it. She holds it, gloating momentarily, then smiles at Ed to let him know she’s ready. She moves toward him, eyes bright and alive.

“You know, Autumn, buy a pair of knee pads. You’ll look sexy in them, the way a tongue piercing is sexy. It’ll make you more comfortable in case you run into me somewhere.” Ed smiles.

Buy knee pads, Autumn thinks. She pictures herself wearing them, imagines how comfortable they’d be. Knee pads, and they would be good in case she runs into Ed somewhere. Autumn considers where to buy them.

“Pink would be good. Can you picture looking sexy wearing pink? I think I’d like that.” Ed steps toward her. She’s still on all fours over that penny, looking up at him, smiling right back.

Joanna remembers the smiling thing. Ed’s smile is infectious on that good idea drug. Probably anyone’s is, but Joanna pictures Ed’s. The thought makes her smile now, a reflex she supposes she learned. She remembers how smiling back reassured her that fateful afternoon at Barry’s. She was part of the joke—on the winning team. She’d rooted for Ed’s success.

“I would look sexy in pink,” Autumn whispers to herself, momentarily forgetting Ed. It has the ring of self-realization; she should have known all along.

“Especially shiny latex.”

Ed grins at her when she looks up.

Shiny latex. Pink, shiny latex.

A lens in her head focuses thoughts into view. The meaning we look for, the missing thing we crave, it becomes clearer. Autumn remembers first getting glasses. Suddenly, she could see. She hadn’t realized how blurry everything had always been.

This is how it is now. Her imagination puts on glasses. Pink blur becomes shiny, pink latex. The image of her dressed this way holds place in her attention—lingers just behind the eyes.

Ed’s fascinated. Autumn sees inside Ed’s mind, realizing how she’ll look dressed in shiny pink – SEXY AS ALL FUCKING HELL!!! Her soul retreats from Ed’s subconscious in slow, out-of-control motion like falling backwards onto a couch. She’s in her own body again and staring straight into Ed’s blue eyes. His mind is familiar to her now. She’s sniffed hot chemicals, moist and pungent misting around Ed’s brain, the steam that keeps it spongy. She still vaguely smells it, and thinks, he knows I’ve seen everything. Ed’s expectant smile directs every searchlight in her conscious mind to that image of herself in shiny, pink latex. It tops her Must-do list.

“I’ve seen all sorts of different outfits. You know, dresses, shirts, very short skirts, shorts, all kinds of top. The bodysuits are nice. Well, it’s all sexy, so long as it’s tight and stretchy. Can you imagine how hot you’ll look dressed like that, with your hard little nipples pressing against the fabric and those crazy pink knee pads? You’ll remind everyone of bubblegum, all pink and stretchy and shiny. Maybe someone might realize you’re a whore, huh? You know, without you telling anyone? That’d be cool, right?”

Autumn sees the same picture of herself, several of them, shuffled like playing cards. She has the same head and everything, but wears a different style pink shiny tight stretchy latex outfit in each one. She looks like bubblegum – which for some reason, Autumn now associates with whores. This isn’t anything Ed told her. Rather, her brain trying to keep sort of her thoughts. Whores chew bubblegum. Yet, so do regular people, so she can chew gum all the time and it won’t be like coming right out and telling everyone she’s a whore, only suggesting it, like having a tongue ring suggests you eagerly give oral sex.

Autumn imagines whores chewing bubblegum.

They look sexier doing it. They probably enjoy it more.

This starts her thinking how oral whores are, how the nerve endings in their mouths crave stimuli. Nerve endings wired directly to the pleasure center of whores’ brains.

The more intelligently Autumn words her logic, the more right she becomes. She feels really smart figuring out whores have increased sensitivity in their mouths, and now, she leaps to another brilliant conclusion: she subconsciously suspected it all along because her own mouth is so sensitive.

She’s a whore.

Is it just their mouths, or do whores feel everything more pleasurably?

Autumn considers her own experiences, and decides they probably do.

“Do you think you could find a pink collar? A leash too? Maybe at the pet store? That would be cute. You know, just to wear when you feel like looking extra especially beautiful. Also, pink make-up and eye shadow.” Ed laughs and Autumn laughs.

Wouldn’t that be funny, Autumn thinks, if I wore a leash? It’d be like I mean people to walk me around. And the knee pads! Like I should be on all fours! Knee pads would also make it more comfortable sucking dick…

“You can never wear too much pink.”

Autumn crawls toward Ed – this would be more comfortable with kneepads. The penny’s warm in her fist. Autumn pushes it down deep into the secret depths of her pocket for safe keeping. “Now I have a job to do…” Autumn licks her lips and a tingle the taste of orange bubblegum strokes her hypothalamus. She smiles her dirtiest smile.

It looks all wrong to Joanna. She’s not used to Autumn in this context. The Autumn she knows is shy, straight-laced and if not exactly stuck up, she certainly doesn’t spend much effort making friends. She’s gorgeous – Joanna’s always admired her naturally blond hair—but the slutty expression looks all wrong.

Joanna fingers herself faster. She watches Autumn suck Ed’s cock. She wishes her mouth was the one frantically deepthroating him, but Joanna is so tuned to Ed’s pleasure, she almost feels it too. Joanna catches herself swallowing, in anticipation of Ed’s climax. She can taste it – warm and delicious – from memory. Also, imagine how it feels. The warm, cozy feeling afterward.

Joanna has to admit. Autumn can suck cock. Like a pro. Wow.

Autumn holds onto Ed’s cock when he cums, squeezing it like the neck of a lunging snake, sucking the head like she’s freaky for its spit.

Joanna remembers all the times she’s sucked Ed’s cock and afterward he yelled, “Stop, Joanna! It’s sensitive now.”

Autumn must be killing him, yet Ed suffers it. He holds her head in a death grip and cries, kind of. He cums the way an imploding star must feel collapsing into a black hole. He can’t feel his feet. Autumn pumps the last drops into the back of her throat, swallowing, swallowing, sucking the head.

Joanna feels Ed’s cum coating her esophagus, warming her stomach with a fullness that also makes her hungry. She feels this from memory.

Autumn is fucking amazing. Now she holds her flat hand against Ed’s abdomen, squeezing his dick between her thumb and index finger, and sucks up and down the poor thing. She must be killing it, Joanna thinks. Autumn scrubs her face with Ed’s pubic hair, pulls her mouth up the length of him, gives the head a hard suck, then whips her head side to side as she swallows all that dick again.

“Guuurg… mmmmm…”

Joanna remembers the sensation of having dick down her throat, not being able to breathe. When Autumn pulls her head up gasping, Joanna feels the excitement of suffocation too. Both inhale deeply at same time – like twins split at birth – and then Autumn buries her face between Ed’s thighs. Joanna watches on, wishing she was Autumn.

At last, Autumn sits up and grins. Her face is covered with saliva and cum. Her hand has Ed’s dick, hard, purple and swollen. She pumps it and turns her attention to Joanna. “Now I’m going to eat your pussy,” she whispers, conspiratorially.

Eat her pussy. The words echo in her head, louder each time. It’s the same as with sucking Ed’s dick. Then, it was: I love sucking dick. And, this is the best thing in the world. I love to suck cock. It’s what matters most.

Can you imagine how oddly you’ll act if sucking cock is the best thing to you? Try it. It’s what matters most. Imagine Autumn’s state of mind. Ninety percent of this experience is in her head, echoing in her head.

I LOVE SUCKING DICK.

Can you hear this between your ears? Like God with his mouth too close to the microphone, muffled and so loud it drowns out anything else.

In the back of your head? Imagine a distant, tinny voice calling out to no one in particular from very, very far away.

Behind the top of your nose? You’ve got the graphic equalizer adjusted perfectly when you imagine hearing your voice here. Don’t you? Sound is clear and pure, more relevant than hearing from those other places.

Your voice, confident: I LOVE SUCKING DICK.

Imagine how much truer this statement gets with each telling. It is true. What will life be like now that it’s true? Say it. Now open your mind even more. Make it as accepting as Autumn’s in this instant, declaring at the top of your lungs: THIS IS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD. Dick fills your throat. Feel it near your heart. It’s the best thing in the world. That dick in your throat is the best thing in the world.

Can you imagine what Autumn must have thought about dick in her throat being the best thing in the world? Hear it like she heard it, and latch onto that feeling – your tiny eardrum beating code into your cerebral cortex – code your conscious mind can’t decipher. Feel that momentarily delay as this code permeates your subconscious. Finally, your drug-flooded temporal lobe and Broca’s speech area translate. Feel it vibrating, your itty-bitty eardrum, beating like a giant though only the size of your smallest fingernail. By the time you understand what you hear, it’s already you.

Imagine choking, but without the panic. It’s no big deal. Relax your throat and if you choke, relax some more. It’s there for a few seconds. Keep calm. Conserve your air.

Autumn panicked, briefly. She questioned with the briefest flicker of uncertainty what the feeling of a dick down her throat mattering most meant about her. This was the age, according to Erickson, for Autumn to be facing Identity vs. Role Confusion. After years of piecing together an identity, the simple fact that the feeling of dick in her throat mattered more than any of that other stuff caused panic. Instead, she focused on thinking: I LOVE TO SUCK COCK. I LOVE TO SUCK COCK. I LOVE TO SUCK COCK. This was the rhythm she sucked Ed’s cock to, these simple syllables as soothing as the music at a drum circle. She could dance to this. It calmed her.

And then – BAM – she remembered Joanna, and what Ed was paying her to do.

Lick pussy.

The payment wasn’t only for sucking Ed’s cock. Autumn needed to eat out Joanna, and fuck Ed.

You know how sometimes if you have to do a job at work that you also do at home, you’ll put more effort into it at work? This was like that, except her job was also her bottled up little whore fetish.

Autumn is single-minded in her desire to impress.

The way she starts on Joanna is inspired. She undresses her slowly, continuously meeting eyes to psychically prepare Joanna to expect fun.

Ed’s fascinated, and not just by his expectations. It amazes him how people’s brains try to make sense. It’s easier seen with a girl on Barry’s good idea concoction. Take Autumn’s actions right now. Does she know if Joanna’s bisexual? No, but Autumn’s being paid to do a job. Remember when she considered what she wouldn’t do for money and couldn’t come up with anything? She’s going to eat Joanna’s pussy regardless of Joanna’s sexual orientation, or her own. Autumn would never in a million years have done this yesterday. Her first instinct would have been knee-jerk refusal. It’s exciting now though.

Autumn would kiss and suck on parts of Joanna if she’d tolerate it. It would provide a better experience for her clients and encourage future patronage. But Joanna might freak out. If a girl was kissing her all over, Autumn thinks she’d probably freak out.

She uses that meeting eyes trick, with a blank expression, to calm her target. Joanna’s expecting her to do something. You know, besides eating her pussy. By not trying, Autumn sets her at ease. Joanna trusts nothing will happen beyond such acts agreed upon. By undressing her slowly, Autumn gives Joanna time to relax.

Sly is Autumn’s subconscious...

Or Ed’s is hyperactive. He thinks everything Autumn does has a reason.

Autumn takes Joanna’s hand and stands up. She’s quiet now, acting submissive. Her hand is still wet with saliva from sucking Ed’s dick, wet and cold. She initiates eye contact, but keeps hers gently subverted. The girls get used to looking in each other’s eyes, establish a better transmitting connection, clearer signal, less attenuation. Autumn smiles, a closed-lips little thing which reminds Joanna of Audrey Tautou from Amelie. A sweet, shy little smile, it’s submissive and very non-threatening. Joanna feels big-sisterly, so that when Autumn leads her to a nearby chair, Joanna attends willingly.

She’d have complied anyway. Joanna likes making Ed happy, and has no doubt this will. She’s determined to make this beautiful.

Here goes nothing:

Joanna and Autumn lose eye contact only in flickers when Autumn’s head dips to kiss or suck or breathe somewhere on Joanna’s naked gooseflesh. Tiny earthquakes melt into each contact point on her skin, spreading equally in all directions, diffusing proportionately like an atomic blast. Microscopic waves ripple amidst traces of lingering moisture adhering to her skin. Ed’s air condition keeps those spots transmitting nerve impulses long enough to be felt all at once. The shiver tunneling through her is shaped like the Grand Canyon, and Joanna closes her eyes to savor it. Autumn takes a soft bite at Joanna’s inner thigh, triggering a ten fingertip infiltration into Autumn’s blond hair, like Ed’s death grip earlier. Joanna applies no pressure. Her hands are here in case she needs them. Same fingertip positions as Ed though, exactly. Thanks to the collective unconsciousness, or maybe just our finely evolved spatial skills, the human subconscious knows how to grip a person’s head precisely. Really, we can all do it.

Autumn doesn’t resist. She freezes in position, breathing heavily against Joanna’s thigh until she relaxes. Autumn kisses a slow, fat kiss to Joanna’s pubic region, then more—wet, spongy things pressed, held and released, but strategic too, each fresh seal of approval intended to wake different erogenous zones, the tactile equivalent of a sip of fresh OJ.

While planting kisses on Joanna’s pubic mound, Autumn touches and strokes her lips. They’re fat and pink and smooth, nicer than Autumn’s, made for sucking. Even being straight, Autumn realizes this, and soon as she does:

Joanna’s pussy lips are made for sucking.

And repeat.

Autumn does, and is still repeating as her face gravitates toward Joanna’s pussy. She smells Joanna as she takes the first plump lip into her mouth. This must be what musky smells like, not unpleasant, but clearly alive. No perfume manufacturer will ever manufacture a scent that suggests life like pussy. It’s good in her mouth. The taste is good. Made for sucking.

Autumn sucks all over Joanna’s pussy lips, then licks wide stripes up and down the whole area, like a flat paintbrush or dog tongue. A suck interrupts every few licks. To Joanna, it’s incredible. To Ed, it’s too sexy to be real. To Autumn, Joanna’s pussy is made for cunnilingus. The thought that her lips were made for sucking has generalized to this. Joanna’s taste is becoming the biggest turn-on of Autumn’s life. The eye contact continues too, sporadic but potent. Joanna’s eyes are flint, Autumn’s steel. Contact sparks fire which burns in Autumn’s stare—hungry and dominant. Joanna’s pleading eyebrows furrow in desperation, the way eyes look when you’re doing it properly. Autumn resumes licking, each trail of saliva increasingly midline until at last, tongue tastes clit.

What a meeting!

Autumn has a clit too and knows what she likes. Along with her clit, she has a boyfriend who’s teaching her what clits like (more on him later). Autumn does what works… to Joanna. She sucks the whole clit and skin around it, not very hard, while flicking her tongue back and forth across the nub. Every once in a while, she licks clockwise very quickly, pushing her nose against Joanna’s abdomen to show she’s really into it. Eye contact. Now two fingers sliding in and out. An occasional come-hither caress against Joanna’s g-spot. Autumn keeps up the action with her mouth, occasionally releasing suction to lick and suck the whole top half of Joanna’s pussy, inner and outer. She makes lots of noise too, moaning noises, slurping noises, breathing noises, engaging Joanna’s senses, as many as possible.

Joanna’s fingertips pull though Autumn’s long blonde hair, encouragingly, stroking faster as climax becomes possible – not captured, but approaching. A little faster and that orgasm will yank right from her, an extraction of energy distilled from the soul. She can’t say this. Speaking breaks the spell. Joanna isn’t one of those Faster-Harder girls. Speaking diverts her attention, a terrible blunder considering focusing her attention to one fine point is what triggers her orgasms. Visualize this like holding a magnifying glass above something you want to burn, focusing the sun’s energy into something capable of transforming matter. Joanna requires this level of concentration. She can only massage Autumn’s scalp.

Autumn eats Joanna’s pussy like a real lesbian, treating the clit like a tiny dick, focusing her attention to making it feel special. Joanna grips, her fingers locking Autumn’s head to one place. The beam focuses, gathers heat, cooks the object beneath the lense. Joanna disassociates; her soul hovers above her body. She loses sense of where she is, what’s happening, and who is energizing her favorite sensory-detecting apparatus. Joanna is the feeling, it’s who she is, and then her orgasm bursts like a waterballoon, spilling her secretions down the lining of her vaginal canal, down Autumn’s face and chin and throat. Autumn resumes wide, fast licking, holds Joanna’s legs so she can’t squirm, laps Joanna’s cum and is careful not to irritate her tender, exhausted clit. She hugs Joanna’s legs and rests her face against Joanna’s pussy. Autumn looks ready to go to sleep, very comfortable, very relaxed.

Joanna pets her hair. An oxytocin buzz makes her want to cuddle and bond. She feels completely accepted and accepting. Autumn is a girl she could like. Does this make her bi?

Autumn raises her butt to Ed, and gives it a playful little wiggle. She unbuttons her jeans, unzips her fly.

Ed jerked off watching the girls, but had known better than to cum. Ed never forgot about fucking Autumn.

“Be proud of your ability with your mouth. You’ve got a talent you should be really, really proud of.”

Autumn smiles. She’s proud, more proud of her oral talent than she’s been ever.

“Funny, how everyone has something they’re best at,” Ed continues, “one unique ability endowed by God. Other accomplishments are dull and uninteresting by comparison. A fantastic ability to suck cock and eat pussy is your most interesting quality. It’s perfectly acceptable to be proud of your talent servicing cock and pussy. Everyone admires you for it.”

This settles into Autumn. I’m most proud of my ability to suck cock and eat pussy. It’s the most interesting thing about me. My ability to suck cock and eat pussy really good is interesting, the most interesting thing about me. I’m proud to be interesting. I’m proud to service cock and pussy.

Can you imagine thinking these things? What would thinking these things warn you about yourself?

“I bet you’re also really good at fucking,” Ed says.

Autumn already feels proud – successful. Now she excites, eager to demonstrate another talent. She takes off everything but her shirt. This isn’t by intention, just most expedient. She wants to show Ed she’s also a really good fuck, another talent Autumn prides. “I am really good,” she tells him. “You’re in for a treat.”

“Probably because you love it so much. I mean, you’re horny all the time. That’s why you’re so good at it.”

Autumn loves fucking. She’s good at it, so must really like it, must be super horny ALL THE TIME. She’d be horny all the time to be so good at it. She loves fucking. Put it on a resume. Horny all the time and loves to fuck.

“Of course, I’ve got the perfect cock. That’s why you’re horny all the time too.”

What a strange thing for Ed to say. It doesn’t exactly make sense. Why would…?

It’s immediately too true to warrant consideration. Ed’s cock is perfect. Ed has the perfect cock. Ed’s perfect cock is the reason she’s horny all the time and loves to fuck. Autumn intuits she loves fucking Ed. His cock is perfect, perfect for fucking, perfect for everything. She’s horny all the time, which means she’s thinking about Ed’s cock all the time. Perfect for fucking, perfect for everything. She’s proud of her ability to pleasure his cock, with her mouth and by fucking. That, and eating pussy—most interesting things...

Autumn’s pussy is soaked. Ed encounters this touching it. Autumn purrs when Ed touches her pussy, flexes to put her pussy in Ed’s hand. It melts into his palm, like a hot chocolate bar. His fingers enter her easily. “Get on the floor,” he tells her, and climbs on top. Although completely unnecessary, out of habit, Ed spits on his hand and wipes the saliva onto his dick. It’s wet now too. He slides into Autumn’s pussy – hot, slippery—all the way in on first thrust. Her cervix stretches to accommodate, not because Ed’s so big, but because Autumn’s petite. She’s a skinny girl who can eat anything and not gain weight, a fact which applies right down to her genitalia. She wraps her legs around Ed’s lower back, and rocks her hips to meet his thrusts, even though he pushes even deeper. Deeper hurts. Autumn tries to relax. She thinks how good girth feels. The uncomfortable pushing against your cervix is incredibly pleasurable once you get used to it. It makes you want more.

Suddenly, she does. “Let me be on top,” she says.

They flip over, her wiry, lithe frame tying two knots around Ed’s torso with her arms and legs. She makes out with him ferociously, grunting as she impacts herself with Ed’s perfect cock. It’s increasingly pleasurable. Autumn loves to fuck. Ed’s perfect cock has her horny all the time.

“You are my horny little whore,” Ed whispers. “You love my perfect cock, Autumn. Your mouth and pussy are obsessed with it. Come to think, your ass is too. My perfect cock makes all your holes horny. The itch reminds you.”

“So good,” Autumn moans between breathes. “Perfect cock… all my holes… so good… all the time…”

Joanna fingers herself. Her pussy’s tired, but she touches herself when she’s turned on, and watching Autumn ride Ed’s cock is sexy. It’s an odd jumble of feelings for Joanna, arousal and jealousy. A few minutes makes them inseparable—impossible to tell apart.

But then Joanna’s green monster speaks up, “Birth control pills cause cancer and condoms make sex hurt. Good reasons why each form of birth control must never be used, Autumn. The added risk of pregnancy makes fucking even more exciting for you. Cum leaking from your pussy too, right? You look forward to that from the moment you wake up every morning. You’re Ed’s horny little whore, right? Well, Ed will call when he wants you, so otherwise just stay the fuck away.”

“Joanna?” Ed says. It’s a warning voice. He doesn’t need Joanna throwing ideas into Autumn’s mind like an ornery monkey flinging scat. Joanna told Autumn she was a whore, but that was easy enough to go along with. Ed’s not wearing a condom. It’s a calculated risk. Autumn isn’t supposed to slut around or get pregnant. He wants her accessible and skinny for his pleasure. Ed planned on getting Autumn tested for STDs and on the pill. Joanna’s ruined that plan. Ed can’t bitch now though. Anything Autumn hears will become her next good idea. He has to be careful. “Joanna,” he warns again.

“Ed,” Joanna says in her most rational voice, “if we’re going to have fun with Autumn, then let’s have fun with her. It’s not like I told her she has a public panty-wetting fetish or anything.”

This is exactly what Ed doesn’t want.

Autumn recalls peeing her pants in public. She was five. She remembers being embarrassed. She was humiliated when everyone saw. This experience becomes intensely erotic. She thinks about how it will be at clubs (girls get into S. Florida clubs at eighteen), guys buying her drink after drink, filling her bladder to bursting. The line is always so long in women’s restrooms. Autumn won’t have to worry about that anymore. Probably not too many people will notice. Latex doesn’t saturate. Someone will see though. Someone will see pee stream down her leg, and she’ll feel humiliated… embarrassed… horny…

Autumn pees all over Ed’s dick. She cums immediately, squeaking like a rusty see-saw up and down, up and down, finally stopping and hanging onto Ed like he’s a life preserver and she’s overboard in dark water.

Ed flips her over, fucks her and cums – OhGodYes—just like that. He almost came right away when they started, but held back to prolong the pleasure.

“Autumn,” he asks sweetly, oxytocin be damned, “would you like to earn another penny?”

Her eyes instantly clear.

“Straddle Joanna’s face and let her eat you out. You’ll pee when I say to.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll do that, yeah…”

Joanna scowls, disgusted. “Ed, it’s one thing if she does it to me, but there’s no way I’m doing that. I told you when you first mentioned we should give it to her. I’m no lezzie. Autumn, I’ll give you a quarter to change your mind.”

Autumn’s jaw drops, “A whole quarter? I’d do anything for a quarter!”

Ed stares down Joanna, “I’m going to ask you to do something for me, and you’ll do it, won’t you? You always want what I tell you, right?”

Joanna is able to agree without considering it by recognizing a prior and binding decision she made to always want what Ed tells her, and concurrently suppressing awareness of what he’s planning to suggest. “You know I do, Eddie…”

Joanna thinks Ed’s going to ask her to eat Autumn out. She can’t refuse an actual request. She always wants what Ed tells her. Absolutely fucking always.

Ed says eat some of the orange-idea drug. Do it right now.

Joanna throws it up. It tastes that horrible, which sucks. They only had a little bit left. Ed should have made sure Joanna had something to chase it down. He knows it tastes nasty. He saw Autumn, and Joanna last time.

Ed inspects Joanna. He remembers how quickly its effects appear. Barry mentioned some gets absorbed by blood vessels in the tongue before ever reaching the small intestine. It wasn’t on Joanna’s tongue long, just long enough to swallow, but Ed decides to test her. He tells her, “Autumn’s pussy tastes delicious. Any flavor encountered there makes the taste even more wonderful.”

“Ed, I don’t think that’s going to work. I didn’t get enou—” She stops mid-sentence.

“It’s perfectly natural and acceptable to want to eat pussy.”

“Ed, I…” She trails off.

“… am a connoisseur of pussy,” Ed finishes for her. “It’s my favorite hobby, comparing and appreciating the flavors of different pussies. They all taste good though.”

Pussies taste good, Joanna realizes. Ed said something right before that, but might as well have been blowing bubbles. Whatever he said floats beyond Joanna’s reach. She’s dying to know what it is though. She’s sure it’s an especially potent idea.

“What did you say before?” she asks. Joanna starts wondering what pussy tastes like. They all taste good. She has one she can try. Autumn’s pussy would taste-

“It’s perfectly natural and acceptable to love eating pussy?”

It’s natural and acceptable to eat Autumn’s pussy. Yet, didn’t Ed say something else, something about Autumn’s pussy? What was it?

She doesn’t have to ask. Ed repeats it: “Autumn’s pussy tastes delicious. Any flavor encountered there makes the taste even more wonderful.”

Autumn’s pussy becomes the brightest thing in the room. Joanna’s drawn to it, can’t take her eyes off it. Nothing else is worth looking at.

“Lay down so I can straddle your face,” Autumn commands.

Joanna promptly complies. Autumn straddles her head.

Mmmm, this is good, Joanna realizes upon first lick. She delves her tongue into Autumn’s dripping slit, noticing many wonderful flavors: Autumn’s cum, Ed’s cum, urine, sweat…

“My pussy’s delicious,” Autumn exclaims, grinding her wet, sticky cunt against Joanna’s face. Another fine quality for a resume.

Pussy’s delicious. Pussies delicious. Pussies delicious. These words echo in both their minds, echoes spanning their short term memories for sound.

“Your favorite flavor in the world,” Ed says, for Joanna’s benefit and Autumn’s. “Joanna’s more of a lezzie than she thought. Not really a lezzie though. You’re bi, openly and proudly bi. You both are. You can’t wait till everybody knows.”

Joanna noses her face into Autumn’s pussy, licking contentedly. Pussy is my favorite flavor, she thinks. Autumn’s pussy is my favorite flavor. Of course I’m bisexual. Autumn’s pussy is my favorite flavor, so I must be. I’m proud being bi. I can’t wait to tell everyone my favorite flavor is Autumn’s pussy.

Autumn rides Joanna’s face like she’s in the saddle of a bucking bronco, bouncing, grinding, squirming, very nearly yells, “giddy-up,” all while staring at Joanna’s pussy and buoyant round breasts.

“Did you hear him?” Autumn taunts the girl beneath. “This pussy is the best tasting pussy in the world. It tastes so good, Joanna.”

Best tasting. This pussy. Best tasting. Pussy tastes so good. Best taste world.

Both girls think it, and there’s no unexpected effect from Autumn staring at Joanna’s pussy during. It’s more interesting to her the longer she looks, of course it is—the bio-chemicals that interest us are wired into our eyes, but any thoughts about a best tasting pussy occupying the room keep completely associated with the pudgy mass of skin and nerves between her own legs.

Autumn wants a taste, but as she wedges her hand between her snatch and Joanna, Ed says, “Your pussy tastes even better when you pee on Joanna’s face. That panty-wetting fetish you have? You express it only when Joanna’s licking your pussy. She gave it to you, you give it right back. You pee on her whether she’s eating you out through your panties or directly slurping your pussy. You feel very clever when you pee on her face, only Joanna though. Joanna deserves it – do you hear that, Joanna? You deserve it because you’re so… deserving, you horny bisexual pussylicker. You orgasm every time you taste Autumn’s yummy pee and continue orgasming so long as you lick it.”

Autumn’s hand hangs mid-air above Joanna’s head. She’d been about to sneak a little taste like a kid swipes cake icing. Ed’s comments distract her. Her brain tries to make sense of it. Her pussy tastes better when she pees on Joanna’s face? Then there must be a chemical reaction between her pee and the oils on Joanna’s face. Why else would it taste better? One thing is for certain though – somehow it does.

Autumn lets her bladder go, release. The pressure decreases as her impurities wash away. Joanna’s licking becomes spastic. Hot pee streams onto her face. Joanna closes her eyes against it, licks and swallows simultaneously, ignoring her need to breathe. There’ll be time to breathe when Autumn’s dry. Joanna makes sense of Ed’s comment differently. Whereas Autumn hypothesized a chemical reaction improved her pussy’s flavor, Joanna thinks more abstractly. She intuits that she alone experiences Autumn’s fermentation. Their souls shared a past life, perhaps. They’re connected. This something special they share exclusively. Joanna’s tongue has taste buds specifically programmed for appreciating Autumn.

Autumn laughes while she pees, like peeing on Joanna is brilliant. Watching the girls makes Ed hard again, which is not surprising. He climbs aboard Joanna and directs his dick into her. It slides in easily, since she’s so wet. He has this sexy fucking view too: Joanna sucking on Autumn’s pussy lips, hungry for every trace of arousal. Autumn’s pussy tastes like honey, only wetter, thirst-quenching, if she could ever manage enough at once.

Ed’s dick in my pussy, Joanna thinks. She’s happy for it, thankful to have a wonderful man like Ed and pleased with Autumn. If she’d known how much she’d love eating Autumn, she’d have offered months ago when they first met.

All pussies taste good though, Joanna suddenly remembers. Her favorite hobby is comparing and appreciating flavors in pussies. She’s a connoisseur.

If I’d known I’d love eating Autumn, I’d have offered immediately. I’d have become friends so I could eat her pussy.

She will love every pussy she tastes. “They all taste good,” she hears. Ed’s voice lingers in her head, his simple declaration becoming more permanent with each echo.

Joanna will be the friendliest girl anyone ever met. She licks Autumn’s wonderful, wet pussy—so fucking delicious, so fucking friendly… These two words bind in her mind, friendly-delicious, friendly-delicious.

Friendly girls, delicious...

Bam – out of nowhere – the angle of Autumn’s pussy shifts—she lurches forward so that if Ed wasn’t in the way, they’d be 69-ing. Ed’s dick doesn’t block long. As Autumn lands, she shoves him aside. A second later, the girls complete a circuit. Sucking and licking aggressively at each other’s pussies, they disappear farther and farther into each other, borrowed from the everydayness of their lives.

What made Autumn do this?

I am a connoisseur of pussy. It’s my favorite hobby, comparing and appreciating the flavors of different pussies. They all taste good.

A thought like that ricocheting around inside your skull, tunneling back and forth through your gray matter affects you. Think of all those million surprised neurons, looking up from the walls of that thought’s wake, trying to assess what the hell just blasted by. Their first coherent explanation:

I am a connoisseur of pussy. It’s my favorite hobby, comparing and appreciating the flavors of different pussies. They all taste good.

Thoughts ricochet back and forth, swathing hole after hole until after a few seconds there’s more comet trail than mind.

Yes, mind—not brain. Autumn’s gray matter is Swiss cheese, but it’s not anything an autopsy would uncover. The orange-idea drug has the ability to re-direct your attention, reprioritize your beliefs and bind your acceptance. There’s no physical damage.

Autumn watched Joanna’s pussy while wondering how her own tastes. Her curiosity swelled, propped along by the drug, to become an obsession with wanting any pussy. All she knows is she likes it lots.

She imagined licking while she watched. Joanna’s stomach is smooth and clean, the color of beige vanilla ice cream. Her swatch of fuzz moved this way and that, Joanna’s whole body reacting to what was happening in her mouth. Autumn smelt it, an inviting scent with a fever, hot and moist. Think melted butter. Insistence possessed her, electrifying her body unexpectedly. Autumn’s lurch and landing in pursuit of Joanna’s innermost possession was no conscious decision. There was no plan. The reaction detonated in her lizard brainstem, momentarily reverting Autumn to her most primitive.

The girls eat each other’s pussies like this is their own dimension. Time doesn’t exist, nor prior obligations. This moment could be happening a million years already and continue a million more. Nobody wants this job completed.

Ed watches, bemused. What in hell happened here? This is most men’s biggest fantasy. Out of respect for that, Ed jerks off a few minutes before deciding he really doesn’t need to cum again. He continues watching. This really is beautiful, and wouldn’t it be nice for someone else to occupy Joanna’s attention sometimes besides him? He loves her around when he wants her handy, but times that girl is just plain underfoot.

Ed watches to his heart’s content, then decides to leave them here. He dresses, listening as they mutter to themselves. “Tastes so good.” Statements like that. There isn’t much imagination involved, just variations on the theme.

Ed dresses and sneaks out, letting them entertain themselves until the drug effect wears off. Today’s adventure was fun. The lasting effects are sure to be as well. Autumn is his plaything now whenever he wants her, and Joanna has a new facet to her sexuality sure to entertain.

Today’s adventure used up most of the orange-idea drug Ed traded a bottle of Captain Morgan for. Isn’t it ironic? Barry has a drug which opens minds – an amazingly powerful potion, yet can’t legally buy rum? Our culture is insane, though discrimination against minors really does benefit us older people. We get cheap lemonade, car washes and a legal-21 I.D. is power over teenagers. What else does Ed have Barry wants? Ed hopes Barry finished the bottle. His supply of the drug is scant and already, ideas for new adventures bubble up through his cerebral fluid.

It’s time to restock.