The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I suppose I might have first noticed something unusual in the hallway that morning. Granted I was nursing a pretty incredible hangover, the kind that whiskey itself isn’t enough to generate. The kind that’s got a fair amount of marijuana and LSD on it. Burnt, wasted, these words paled in describing my state. Hell, my eyes barely focused. It had been a long night. And shit, it was only Wednesday.

Anyway, if there’s ever any state in which I couldn’t be confident in my own observations it was right about now. But it seemed like the entire campus was in a jubulant, energetic mood. In fact, for 10am on a Wednesday morning, there was a real electricity in the air. People were smiling, people were talking loudly, playing the hack, running a bit, hell, even bouncing. It was as if there was a great party in one of the classrooms and everyone was about to go on in. It was almost like, anticipation.

And that was interesting. But what really made me wonder was the girl at the vending machine. I was walking slowly past, and I stopped for a minute to rest and consider smoking a cigarette. And I saw this smart-looking sorority chick, complete with greek-lettered sweatshirt and straight, black hair, getting a soda from the Snapple machine. Fine, right? They do that a lot, don’t they? Anyway, this one was in a really good mood, or something.

She put a dollar bill in the slot, and the machine rejected it. She tried again, and the machine again spit it back out. She tried a third time and succeeded in crumpling up the bill trying to get it to fit in the slot. It just looked a little more clumsy that you’d expect. And then she started to giggle.

Women giggle like that a lot when they’re with their friends, but this was a little strange because it was completely solitary. She tried the dollar once more, again met with no success, and her giggle developed into a serious laugh, with a slightly delerious tinge. You’d imagine she’d be really annoyed that she couldn’t get her Passion Supreme Snapple before her next big lecture, that she might scowl and make some comment, but she laughed as though it were the funniest thing in the world that this stupid machine didn’t think her money was good enough.

What good spirits. What good humor!

She walked away. Still laughing. Wow, maybe I’m not the only tripping fool in this godforsaken school, I thought to myself, and moved on. It seemed to me like all the girls were laughing now, and I heard their echoing noises through the drug-induced tinitis and hallway echoes. I’m imagining this, I said to myself. Of course I was.

I walked to my class. Of course, I’d cut the two before it. Inside were just a few early arrivals, but fairly quickly the room filled. I noticed a small, perky blond girl with beautiful little breasts and firm, little legs sit down in front of me and I watched her a little bit. Then I looked to my left and saw a much more plain, less attractive girl sit down right next to me. She had glasses and a canary yellow shirt. She was blond as well, but her hair was a bit wavier and it was styled. Her breasts were larger than the other girls’, but you could tell, not as firm.

I tried to conceal my stares. I’m fucked up, I said to myself, I’m making an ass of myself.

The TA started to lecture. Blah Blah Blah (accent) blah blah... Test I scored badly on... blah blah blah... This this that that... I started to lose track of it all and nod off. Then a little motion out of the corner of my eye made me look up.

The cute blonde, dressed in semi-tight grey jeans, was bobbing her left leg up and down, taptaptaptaptaptaptap.... I watched. Someone had once told me that girls could masturbate that way, just sitting in class or something. I got a bit aroused at the thought of this girl masturbating five feet away from me.

Then she stopped and crossed her legs (tighlty?). Then her upper leg started to move as well, in quick little rhythmic circles. Now it was possible to see the subtle movements of her hips and pelvis as she did this, her back to me, facing the teacher. She was actually moving pretty quickly and obviously, and I was a bit amazed.

Then the killer came on. The plainer blond girl next to me giggled. The TA was interrupted. He glanced at her and tried to press on, but she on laughed harder. He stopped in mid-sentence and stared at her. I heard a loud cackle from across the room—a 40-year old Hispanic woman had suddenly broken into uncontrollable laughter.

There were about eight women in a room of 22 people, and now all of them were just laughing. Laughing like the audience of a TV-stand-up show, after the comedian drops a real killer line. The TA started to grin as well, a little nervous. You could tell he wanted to check his fly. The other men in the room grinned a bit to, wanting to get in on the joke, but wary because it seemed so spontaneous.

The cute girl’s motions were starting to get jerky, and there was really no way about it—she had to be masturbating. She turned her head occasionally and I saw her face, lit up with a giggle. What the hell?

“AAAAhhhhh.” she said, ever so softly. I could just barely hear it, it was so much like a slow breath.

“Aah.” she said again, a little louder. Then finally,

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH...!” And her legs did a rhythmic little series of jerky motions, and the grin disappeared from her face for a second as she was enveloped in some harder, less silly sensation. Her eyes were closing a bit, and she had a look as though she was half-concentrating, and half- “ahuh” (she said, moving a bit) unable to concentrate. It was a serious look. An I’m-feeling-something-really-good look. “ahuhhhhhnnnn.” she said. A few people were looking at her, but the pandemonium was distracting.

Then the plain girl, who I was suddenly aware was sitting very close to me, started to get the same look. Her eyes unfocused and closed a bit, her mouth hung open, her jaw a little tight. She exhaled huskily, then inhaled loudly.

“Ahhhhhh.” she said, as well. She had a look as though she were being washed in some kind of unbelievable sensation, that she was more than just enjoying it, but that she wanted it more than anything else in the world. For just a second, I saw her shiver. Then, with startling volume, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Not plaintively, but almost conversationally. She said it like, “there’s really something going on here!” Here eyes open up and searched myopically. “AAH! AAH!” she started to insist, her smile coming back to full force, but still weighted with this new expression.

“AH! AHAHAHAHAH! AHAHHAAAHHHH!” She said, with such apparently pleasant enthusiasm it was blatantly startling. And then, quite clearly, “Oh my God. Oh yes!”

That sent it over the edge. At that point, the classroom detached itself from reality.

The cute blond girl actually got up. She was wearing a blue button down shirt. She grabbed the front and ripped it open, sending buttons flying. She gave the TA a look that would melt a blackboard. His mouth dropped. She tore her shirt completely off.

“Take me...” she said, slowly, forcefully, mischieviously. She ran her hands up from her beautiful hips, up her sides and then over her bra-covered breasts.

Somebody fell off their chair. The TA certainly would have, if he’d been sitting down.

The girl starting walking towards him. She was humming, or perhaps sighing. The words “Sorority Gag” slipped through my head, but didn’t last long. The prettier girl started to unbutton her blouse. Then she noticed the large, husky boy she was sitting next to. He was staring at her. She stared back at him and grinned very widely. Then she pulled her blouse open. I got a glimpse of a little black demi-bra. She arched her back, and thrust her chest out at him, sighing a happy sigh. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, the older Hispanic woman was masturbating with her right hand through her jeans.

The husky guy caught on quick. He reached out and touched her breasts. She sighed again, this time a little husky herself. And she leaned toward him. I looked up and saw the girl with the glasses rubbing herself up and down against the TA, who was standing in the corner. There was only one girl in the classroom who wasn’t engaged in some sexual activity just then, and that was because she was asleep.

Oh shit.

I was deeply aroused, and panicked, and suddenly I needed to smoke a cigarette very badly. I’d felt this feeling only a few times before; when you see something so outrageous that you can’t even tell the tale, because no one would believe you.

Slowly, I backed out of the room. When I closed the door, the girl with glasses was masturbating the TA vigorously.

“Phew,” I said. The halls were largely empty. There were echoes of laughter from downstairs.

I lit up a cigarette right outside my classroom. Then I started down the hall. I hesitated at the door to the stairs, but then pressed on.

Outside the building, on the cement walkway, everything seemed utterly normal. People went about their business, running to classes late, studying on the benches, or just sitting around doing nothing. A little more hastily now, I walked down the stairs into the main complex.

As soon as I opened the door, I knew I was in for it. There was a real pandemonium in there. I rounded the corner from the entrance and was greeted with the most awesome sight I have ever seen in my life. There was a fifty-person orgy going on. Every single woman in sight was in on it.

Actually, a few were asleep, or zoning out, leaning against the walls, and that made me a little nervous. But I couldn’t stay nervous for long. There were women roving around, and a group of them came up on me. One was almost naked, wearing just a pair of tight, unbuttoned jeans. The other three were almost fully dressed. All of them looked like I had the night before. Fucked up, even if pleasantly so.

They saw me. They saw me seeing them. I took a step back and they almost jogged over in my direction.

“Hello,” one of them said, in a sweet voice shrouded in Long Island accent. “Ahhhuh.” She said, and started untucking her shirt. The topless one, whose red hair fell over her wide shoulders, and whose large, heavy breasts were bobbing freely (nipples hard as knots, perky and erect) started to ever so lightly massage my crotch. That was it. I was into this.

“Hi,” I said, but my voice cracked a bit. None of them noticed. In fact, they were all taking on a look of real concentration, like a bunch of drug addicts about to get a good fix. I looked at the one who seemed the most together, a youngish looking girl with straight black hair, thick glasses, and a plaid skirt. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Penny,” she said. The one whose shirt was now over her head (revealing small, pointy breasts in a white bra with a flower print) was starting to run her hands over my chest. The fourth, standing the farthest away, was starting to run her hand down to the crotch of her loose-fitting pants.

Penny’s voice was fairly normal. Then the fourth girl reached her hand up from behind her and gently stroked Penny’s right breast through her white formal blouse. Penny sighed in a little girl sigh. She looked into my eyes and licked her lips. The topless girl started to unbutton my jeans.

“Penny,” I said, trying to hang on to the situation, “what’s going on?”

She stared back at me blankly, as though she hadn’t understood the question and didn’t really care to figure it out.

I couldn’t resist. I reached out and touched her chest. Lightly at first, but then with more attention, especially to the nipples which were starting to perk up through the fabric. She started to pant. She grinned briefly, and then that look I’d seen before came over her, as though she was feeling something really, really good. Something a little nasty. And something that she really wanted more of.

“Penny, do you want me to touch you like this?”

“Yes,” she said, quietly but enthusiastically. “Ohhh, yes.”

Hands on my bare flesh. Bolts of ecstacy were firing up from my cock as miss topless started to caress it, so gently. I was overwhelmed.

“Pull up your skirt and masturbate,” I told Penny. I marvelled as she did so, slowly, as though she wasn’t quite sure of herself. Her skirt came up, and then she pushed her white panties down, just a few inches. Her pubic hair was dark. She was wet. The middle finger on her right hand snaked down and she started to stroke herself with little, jerky motions. Her eyes began to roll back.

She did exactly what I said...

“You,” I said to the Long Islander, “take your clothes off. Then help her touch me,” I said. The girl immediately complied. “And you,” I said to the fourth girl, “touch them both. Try to make them come.” She grinned and exhaled at my request.

I’m hallucinating. Fine. Just don’t let it end yet.

All the while I was fondling the girl with the big glasses. She reacted to me as though my touches were overwhelming her. Her face was contorting sexily with each caress. Her breathing was labored and she began to moan. The Long Islander was starting to kiss me, full on the mouth. Her touches were gentle, but firm.

Penny started to writhe and shiver as she started to make herself come. I felt the redhead’s firm pale breasts make small feather touches against me and her hands slow as she, too began to orgasm. The fourth girl was behind her, putting her hand down the open front of her jeans. I felt the Long Island girl come in mid-kiss. Then Penny, out of nowhere, put her mouth over my cock, and started to lick. I came all over her.

It had taken less than five minutes.

As soon as the euphoria wore off, the shock set in. I sat bolt upright, losing the Long Islander’s kiss. Penny and the redhead were still stroking my softening penis. I was almost positive I was in no danger. But I was just beginning, microscopically, to edge away from them all. Then the dark-haired Islander began to orgasm again.

No one was touching her. She was just doing it. She was shivering, her face was contorted in ecstacy, her clothing was half-open. She was kneeling now.

It sounded like she was trying to “ahh” but was to busy inside what must have been an incredible erotic high.

It seemed to pulse through her, about every three or four seconds at first. In waves she would shiver and move. Then she started to really jerk and convulse. She lost the rest of her balance and fell over on her side. I watched in awe.

The fourth girl and the redhead were starting to make out, shakily, as though they were both barely capable of coherent movement. Their motions also seemed, well, palsy, as though they were suddenly suffering from downs syndrome, or drunkenness. Penny was still absently fondling me, pushing my member from side to side, touching it, looking at it longingly.

The Islander was now beginning to make incoherent, spasmodic noises. They were not the coos of ecstacy. They were the sounds of someone whose brain was being churned up by a blender. Yet in her eyes, and in her face somewhat (which was now not only twisting up, but beginning to twitch and tick), I could still see that she was enjoying it, soaking up whatever was coming over her, and letting it consume her. It looked like it was consuming the hell out of her, to be honest, and there wasn’t going to be anything left afterwards.

I was in shock. I stared for over a minute. When I looked back, The redhead and the fourth girl, who had struggled out of their clothes a bit more, were no longer really touching each other. They were almost on top of one another, their hair was entangled, and they flopped and twisted. But they weren’t really doing anything but just weakly thrashing. Then I caught a line of drool coming down the redhead’s chin.

Penny was the only one still, apparently, nascent. I spoke to her.

“Penny.”

She looked up. Her eyes were sort-of focusing.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, and to my ears it sounded incredibly stupid.

“Yeeaaaah,” she said, softly, dreamily. She was feeling reeealy okay.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked, indicating my penis with my eyes.

“Be-cause,” she said. She was smirking a little bit. It was the kind of answer someone gave you when they were half-asleep.

I took her hands in my right hand and tucked my still-wet dick into my pants. I felt her shiver. She had no resistance to my actions. Utterly passive. I looked at her carefully, all the sex drained out of my body in post-orgasmic numbness. I pulled her a little closer. Her heart was, I swear to god, fluttering. Her lids hung low over her eyes. She had a great big shit-eating grin on and now her hands were tugging down towards her thighs again.

“Penny?”

She made no answer this time.

“Hello? Penny?”

Still nothing. I let her hands go and she dropped over on her side, fortuitously not banging her head. She was still breathing. But now it looked like she was asleep.

I let my eyes get sucked back to the Long Islander. Her noises weren’t very loud anymore. Her movements had almost ceased, except for the occasional jerk. But her face, that was twitching every few seconds or so. I stood up and backed away along the wall. I buttoned my pants back up and pulled my shirt back into place.

“Fuck,” I said. The girls I had just let fall all over me were now lying unconscious on the floor. My heart was pounding and the world started to sound like it was come at me through a long cardboard tube.

I looked around the large open area just inside the where I was standing. The floor was a mass of writhing bodies. Many women were lying or thrashing on the ground by themselves. One was half-sitting against the far wall, shaking her head rapidly and jerkily.

There were guys everywhere, but not as many as women. Many were actively being fondled by them, and many were stumbling or walking around. And not one met any other’s eyes, including mine.

I don’t know what instinct I was running on at this point, but I started to walk forward into the building. I had to step over several girls who were laying right in front of me in various states of undress, not moving, but breathing and with the ghosts of smiles on their faces.

I heard a shout. Against the far wall, there was a table, and on that table, a large, bulky man had bent a youngish-looking blond down over the edge and was fucking her from behind.

It occurred to me at that point that very few people on the ground or against the walls had actually been having sex.

The shout had come from the girl, and not from the man, who was pounding hastily, if a little nervously.

Actually, not only was the girl crying out, but she was moving like a 500 horsepower reciporocating engine. If the other girls I had seen were getting shocked, this girl had grabbed a high-voltage power main. Her eyes were, as I watched, approaching slowly, rolling back into her head. Her saliva was frothing at her mouth. She was in pain, I was sure, but then I realized it must have been the most deeply satisfying, pleasurable, orgasmic pain anyone might have ever experienced.

It was apparently because he was actually penetrating her. And she looked like, honestly, she was being penetrated by an electrified cattle prod. The guy was apparently enjoying himself, but getting more and more nervous. And maybe even a little scared, or frustrated, because he didn’t want her to go this nuts.

Before he even got off, she started to bounce off the table. She gave three violent, full-body convulsions, the second of which almost knocked him over backwards and her off the table, and then produced a remarkable, inhuman mewling sound. Then she went as limp as a corpse.

The big guy started to freak out and look around really nervously. He saw me. I booked it down the hall to the left as fast as I could run. I remembered I’d lost my bag somewhere, cursed with unbelievable frustration, and then pressed on even faster. I got in an open elevator door and pressed “SB”.

I think it took about a minute and a half for those doors to pull closed on the incredible scene in the main entrance to the building.

Then they opened up again, almost immediately, and I was in the dank, concrete tunnels below the building. The sub-basement.

There were women here. They were all sprawled all over the ground. More of these were dressed, and more were older. Here, it looked as though they were trying to go somewhere, but never made it. Almost.

I let the thought slip into my head that the inert women I was stepping over, with half-closed eyes and clothes pulled open, might actually be dead or dying. And then I started to feel sick. I’d never been claustrophobic ever before in my life, especially in a basement, but here I was suddenly trapped, enclosed, buried in some grotesque tomb. I swallowed it. I kept walking. I put my hands over my ears.

I didn’t even know where I was going anymore, but at least there was nobody down here who was conscious. There were no men, stealing from the lifeless bodies of unclothed women, no women, walking menacingly towards myself.

Rounding a corner, I saw the broadcasting lab, and caught the silhouette of a man moving inside the broadcast room.

I realized I was seeing him through glass. Then I realized I was seeing him in a control room and that there was another pane of glass between him and the soundproof, sealed-up room where there was some kind of TV-news set assembled, with several television cameras.

The this guy, a little wiry man with gray hair and green corduroy overalls, was staring right at me. He was scared for a second, because his eyes got really big, but then he grinned a wide, crazy grin. In seconds he was out of the control booth and walking into the hallway!

Hello! (Did he say something?)

I was about to faint. My vision started to crumble at the periphery, there was a growing buzzing in my ears, and then I caught myself.

“Hello!” he had said, still fresh in the memory of my ears.

“Hello,” I said to him. I had no idea what else to say. He seemed frenzied, yet strangely calm. He let the collapsed women at my feet, stretching back and forward along the hallway, pass right under his attention....

As if he knew exactly what was happening.

“Do you know what’s going on here?” I said, my calmness and directness startling myself.

“Well,” he said slyly, “I might...”

“Okay, what?” I said, conversationally enough to get him to put his guard down. He looked so much like a gnome.

“Bee-Zee-Eight-Eff-Nine-Eleven!” He said proudly, as though he were announcning the presence of a king. “It goes through the air like rhinovirus! It cuts through to the mark in seconds! IT’S STUPENDOUS!”

He wasn’t making much sense. But then I realized he was talking about a chemical. A drug.

I raised my eyebrows in what should have looked like absolute curiosity.

“It’s a gas?” I asked, again surprised by my own presence in the conversation. It was as if I had been doing this sort of thing for years.

“Why yes! Carry it around in those big Nitrogen tanks they use in Chemistry! Hardly smells like a thing, to us,” he said. Us meaning... men! It only affects...

“Women! It only affects girls!” I finished my thought out loud.

“Exact-a-mundo!” he said, like some kind of deranged sit-com father lecturing his delinquent son. “Socks ‘em upside the head like a hundred pound sledge, turns ‘em to mush, to GOO!” he said, grinning from ear to ear now, clearly gratified immensely by the idea of bludgeoning women in the head.

“I—”

“Look, I can see you’re not one of those sissy men. I bet you’re just like me. You hate women?”

I paused. I stared. It was a loaded question. Suddenly I wondered if he had a weapon.

“Yes,” I said. I tried very, very hard to look him straight in the eye when I said it. It was just so important, something in the back of my head told me, that he believe me.

“Aww,” he said, “they’re not all that bad,” grinning. He suddenly let his eyes latch on to a woman next to his feet. It was a forty’ish secretary, white, blond, with slightly aging features and a skimpy bust. But she looked closer to his age. Unabashedly, he reached down and fondled her chest. She was completely out, unconscious. Her hands flopped and her eyes drooped. He unbuttoned her vest and quietly ripped her white blouse apart, and started to paw at her remarkably shaped breasts. They were, I guess, old. They stuck out a lot at the bottom. But they were tits, none the less. I stared.

“...At least, now that they’ve had a good whif!” he grinned at me again, his eyes sparkling. “See? Ol’ Gloria here, she don’t give a what’s-for that I’m grabbin’ her good ol’ bossom. Yeah, see? Ol’ Gloria don’t mind a bit, now.” He started to get a little rougher with her breasts. She was as still as he allowed her to be.

“That’s not like you were before, Gloria, was it? Now you got a little respect for your buddy Elmo. Not like you were before, when I grabbed ya. You ain’t complainin’ to Mr. Fennerman now!” And then he started to laugh, to actually titter, with glee. He had himself a good little laughing fit. Then he glared at me.

“Go on, they aint gonna scold ya away now. They aint got nothin’ left upstairs! Just a great big brain full of happy-transmitters. Go on, take that one down there, and do what you like! Ol’ Sharon there, she’s just not gonna make comment!”

He indicated a young brunette with his head. She was attractive and fully clothed. Numbly, I walked over to her, knelt down, and kissed her unconscious, responseless lips. She was warm, and she was breathing. I touched her face, and then let my hand slide down to the neck of her shirt. Then I unbuttoned it and pulled her bra up off her breasts. Her nipples were still erect, even in this state. Her eyes were almost, but not quite closed. I touched her breasts, just as he was doing. And then he slapped me on the back. It seemed like a friendly gesture.

“I bet I know what you’re wonderin’,” he said. “I bet you wonder if she’s ever gonna get up again, ‘n be the real Sharon.” I said nothing. “Well, here’s the kicker... SHE’S NEVER GONNA! Permanent alteration of the forebrain, the prefrontal lobe, the brainstem... Her limbic center’s swelled up to the size of your fist, I swear!”

Now he was spouting neurobiology, and getting a little hard to follow. But his main point was clear.

“But you just bet,” he said, giving me a friendly jab in the gut, “that she went out with the best come she ever had in her whole damn life! Hah haw!” He laughed.

“Now come on, look what I got in the TV room!” I watched him walk back in.