The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Susan Parrish was not having a very good day. First she’d slept in and had to run to school, missing both breakfast and a chance to review for her math test. Plus, she’d stayed up all night studying, so she was tired. Furthermore, she’d gotten several leers from men older, equal, and even younger than herself on the way there.

Susan was aware that she was very beautiful, and as often as not it was a pain in the ass. With her 44D bust she could barely walk, let alone run, and if not for the fact that she swam and did yoga religiously she imagined that she’d have terrible backaches. And because her hard schedule of upper-division classes, swimming, and extracurricular study left her little free time, she had little chance to socialize and almost no opportunity to date, even if a single man at school had impressed her enough to warrant her affections. But since her hot body seemed to attract every single male above the age of eight and made almost every woman she knew jealous, she inevitably got labeled a bitch. Her quiet, intelligent nature didn’t help, making her seem only cold and distant.

What else had gone badly? Ah, yes. Marty O’Conner had gotten kicked out of first period for being too loud while having sex with Julia Craw. Susan admitted to herself that she was slightly jealous; Marty was so handsome and smart that he was one of the few men she would even consider dating.

Then been late for her trigonometry test which she was sure her neighbor had cheated off of, and now third-period gym, where...

Susan paused, reconsidering her last gripe. Marty WAS handsome and intelligent. She was sure of that. She wondered, then, why she had never dated him. Intuition, logic, and deduction demanded that they were a perfect pair. So why was it that they had not dated? Why was it, in fact, that she was only wondering this now?

And having sex in the classroom. That wasn’t normal either. Was it? Susan seemed to be able to justify Marty doing it, had the same blase attitude as she did to seeing the kid in the helmet from special ed. rooting through the trash can. But it somehow didn’t seem right...

She shook her head and breathed deeply, clearing her thoughts. She closed her locker and headed over to the gym to change.

There really was no reason to send Marty out of class, since it hadn’t even included any information or learning. Instead they’d gone on about how the September 11th Tragedy made them feel...

Susan blinked again. What September 11th Tragedy? If they’d spent the entire first class period discussing two airplanes taken by terrorists and destroying the World Trade Center, shouldn’t she remember hearing about that? The World Trade Center was still there. There hadn’t been any sort of Middle Eastern terrorist attack since...had there ever been one? She seemed to think so, but couldn’t remember anything of the sort. From what she understood of history, Sadam Husain had made allegiance with the US back during the Carter administration. He’d had to, since the electric car had just been produced over in Japan and provided the world with cheap and pollution-free transportation, leaving the Middle East to be agreeable or rot without their prime source of income. Her family had two electric cars...

Hadn’t her parents separated? No, couldn’t be. No one divorced these days; the divorce rate was like one in every fifty marriages.

Susan’s head began to hurt. Something peculiar was going on. She made a quick detour to the nurse’s office for some painkillers before class. It made her a few minutes late, but since they had ten minutes to change clothes before they were due on the fields, she should have plenty of time.

As she walked into the locker room, the Tylonel began to kick in. Encouraging it, Susan closed her eyes and massaged her temples. So engaged was she that that she had walked several yards into the locker room before she noticed something wrong.

From all around her, feminine moans of pleasure and desire surrounded her. Susan opened her eyes and her suspicions were instantly confirmed that something was not right. Dozens of her classmates were engaging in anything other than wholesome sports activities.

Every girl was naked. That in itself was unusual; generally everyone was just in bras and panties, and in several respective states of uncoordinated dress and undress. But every one of them was in the buff.

And the reasons for it were clear, because the clothing would have inhibited their actions. Many girls were masturbating furiously, their fingers sliding back and forth, in and out, desperately scratching an undeniable itch. The floor was already wet from the juices trickling down from inside their thighs. Some girls used items instead of their fingers: bananas from their lunches, for example, and one girl actually used a baseball bat. If it hurt, it was not apparent from the pleasure and the frantic urgency with which she worked. She gave an erotic moan, and, Susan noticed, muttered, “Marty.” Many other girls chanted a similar prurient mantra.

“What is going on here?!” Susan shouted. Moans and shouts and carnal cries were her only response.

Not all masturbated. Others instead deemed it too solitary a practice, and had turned to coupling instead. A very few stood or sat as a fellow classmate serviced them, twisting and writhing happily as tongue and finger and limb combined to drive them mad with pleasure. The lass on knee, meanwhile, either fingered herself or let herself be gratified by her partner, by finger or foot, whichever reached. Several girls had developed a more egalitarian position and ate each other. A few, Susan noticed with the lurid attention of the unbelievable, chose to focus upon a third orifice, going at it with equal vigor.

“What...“Susan paused, as her head pounded strongly enough to make her vision cloud. It was not like her slight headache earlier, but almost a force seeking to overwhelm her. Susan staggered, her chest heaving as she sought to catch her breath and quell the inexplicable feelings within her. “What’s going...on...”

Then, there was the orgy. Farther back in the fifth row, the girls writhed about in a serpentine pile, pleasuring one another in any way they could imagine on any limb or orifice within reach. There was no order, no rhyme, no reason. The only logic was sensual, the only pattern the lust for greater reward.

“I don’t...understand...” Susan’s head swam, pounding so hard that any rhythm stopped, her senses numbed to a constant throb.

But not her sensation! Her body was on fire. Between her legs, a feeling of horrible emptiness grew larger and more undeniable, a hole that needed filling. Without even thinking about it, before Susan knew it she had reached her hand into her pants and began tickling her clit. Realization brought no relief; instead she instinctively slid her first two fingers into her slit.

The strength of the reaction pushed her onto her back. Her world exploded a thousand times and was born anew. There was none of the normal discomfort accompanying the process as there were at the other times she infrequently masturbated. This was paradise! Heaven! Nirvana! All thought, any thought, disappeared with the production of this simple back-and-forth motion. If there was anything guiding her actions that had not been cremated with the explosive pleasures from her center, its only input was to lead her legs and spare hand in some vaguely corresponding actions designed to remove her pants.

As she did so, her left arm brushed against her tits. Her pleasure doubled, screaming from multiple sources now: her attended genitalia and her painfully stiff nipples. Indeed, even through a heavy bra they stood strong and tall, threatening to force their way free, tearing the inhibitory cloth in the process, should need be.

They did not get the chance. Instead, as Susan grabbed at her breasts, she ripped the light white top and the bra straight off, oblivious to their shredding so long as her pleasure could be furthered. The GAP is no contender for coitus.

Her tits had never been so responsive! Always before the enormity of her breasts had actually detracted from her sexual enjoyment, for her boyfriends focused excessively upon them while she herself felt very little. But now it was as if the nerve endings had multiplied a hundredfold. The slightest brush drove her nigh to madness with euphoria

If Susan’s lust was great, her companions felt it even more strongly, having been exposed to it several minutes before she had.

One girl, Tanya Peddy some unobtrusive aspect of Susan’s mind recognized, fell forward onto hands and knees, trying frantically to bring herself to orgasm. Her hand came near Susan’s chest, and Susan turned to her side. The addition of this new person meant something else she could rub against. Susan felt herself grow hornier by the minute (quite literally) and desperately needed to slake this wonderful thirst before it drove her out of her mind.

Her nipples caressed Tanya’s arm, and Tanya, by rooting instinct if nothing else, reached aside and grabbed it. Susan squealed with delight as Tanya’s hands forcefully massaged her breasts. Like every boy Susan had allowed get to second base with her, Tanya moved too roughly, kneeding her massive breasts as though baker’s dough. Now, however, Susan did not mind, in fact welcomed it and pushed her chest forward and greedily screamed for more.

A very small part of Susan objectively realized that she was having her first lesbian encounter. Susan had never before even considered women. Nor was she now truly gay. It was just that, in the absence of anyone else, Susan needed someone, and that someone happened to be Tanya. She was as little repulsed by the casual justification as she was by the circumstances themselves; her entire nervous system was too devoted to pleasure at the moment to worry about anything else. Zero to slutty in six point four seconds.

With the justification, though, Susan released herself to the experience. She reached up and pulled Tanya to her, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss. There was no technique or gentleness, only an inferno of nerves entreating the moisture of a kiss to quell it. Susan stroked Tanya’s hair, shuddering as their nipples touched and bounced together like children playing tag. Without contemplation, Susan’s hand moved Tanya’s firm back and tight, tight ass, around her distinctive hips, and conspiratorially moved to join Tanya’s hand inside her. Tanya reciprocated in kind, and soon rather than masturbating they were moving their fingers deep in each other, stimulating each other, reacting all the more for the surprise and application by her partner, reacting even more knowing that she brought equally great joy.

Susan’s world was red, driven to animalism by her craving. She opened her eyes long enough to see Tanya arch her back and lick her lips, the mere eroticism of which made her even hornier, even though she didn’t like girls.

It was wonderful, the most amazing, albeit the most maddening, feeling she’d ever known. But it was maddening simply because she could not come. It was probably because it was with a woman. Susan knew that she needed a man, and she needed one soon. Tanya’s fingers were magic inside her, but only a man was properly equipped to perform this act. She imagined a long, stiff cock deep inside her, so long and so thick that it ripped her apart. She wouldn’t mind if she could just come!

“Deeper!” she moaned to Tanya. “Deeper!”

Tanya pulled out for a moment, a moment leaving Susan frantic and empty, a moment ended as she carefully plunged her whole hand inside Susan’s wet, wet crotch. Susan cried in shock and surprise and unrelenting sensuality, and happily did the same for Tanya, mirroring her actions. They became an odd variation on the mutually devouring snakes, two creatures fucking themselves into one.

Still it wasn’t enough for Susan. She needed a man! Any man! A face swam into her mind, its features merging, and she recognized it as Marty O’Conner.

“Marty!” she whispered, and the moment she did so, her ecstasy, and her arousal, doubled again. It was Marty she needed! He was the only man who could bring her to blossom. No wonder the other girls had been moaning his name! She imagined fucking him, envisioned Marty between her straddled legs instead of Tanya, and bit through her lip at the perfection the image held. “MARTY!”

Tanya too seemed to come to this conclusion, and they both worked all the harder, pumping and twisting to help each other come, though both knew it to be futile. Only Marty could make them come. He, their perfect man, their godhead, their inevitable master. Until today, Susan had not exchanged ten words with Marty; now she was his, mind, body, and soul, for eternity. She would do anything for him, anything to him, for the honor of his cock inside her. She needed him so much so much so much!

<“Okay,” Marty agreed. He moved away from Harold, and concentrated. Reality shifted as quantum philosophy took over, and he not only removed the pheromones from the locker room and wiped the memories of the girls there, but fixed up Harold and moved him on his way.>

And just as suddenly, it was stopped. The pleasure, the frantic need, had disappeared in the blink of an eye. Tanya and Susan pulled away from each other, staring at one other in confusion.

Then reality twisted again, and their memories disappeared.

Susan blinked, and looked down at herself. That must have been a really bad headache to leave her blanked out! She didn’t even remember getting undressed! Vaguely, she wondered why she’d taken her bra and panties off, but her mind was more focused on the missing time than the missing clothes. She realized that she was sweating, and resolved that if she started feeling badly she’d go back to the nurse and say she was sick.

She opened her locker and put on her PE clothes, glad that she kept a spare set of undergarments. She grabbed her towel wiping off whatever that sticky liquid on her right arm was. It smelled strange, like the indefinable scent pervading the locker room, almost like the smell of sex. As Susan put on her panties, she realized that she herself was wet as a fish down there, and her vagina felt strangely sore and satisfied at the same time.

She turned to Tanya Peddy beside her. “What just happened?”

“What are you talking about?” Tanya asked. Susan noticed that Tanya’s face was smeared with lipstick (her shade of lipstick) but Tanya indifferently wiped it off in the mirror and fixed her tangled hair with as little concern. “Hurry up. We’re already late!”

Susan checked her watch. Fifteen minutes! If not for the fact that every other girl was still getting changed, Susan would be frantic; they were ten minutes late for class. Why hadn’t Ms. Malabaster come in to get them?

Rapidly, Susan tried to put on her sports bra, but kept fumbling. It wasn’t until she slowed down that she realized that the bra must have shrunken, because it no longer fit her. No, wait, she realized, it was that SHE had grown. Her already overbearing breasts were at least an inch and a half larger!

Perplexed, she breathed in deeply and forced the uncomfortably tight sports bra onto her massive melons. Susan looked about and noticed that she was not the only one; EVERY girl here seemed to have grown to at least a size C.

Susan wasn’t scared by this, though. She was scared because she wasn’t scared by this. A fifteen-minute blackout leaving your hand drenched, your cunt sore, and your top heavy was not something to be blase about!

She finished getting dressed quickly, and ran out to speak with Ms. Malabaster. It was even more uncomfortable running than usual. Her large breasts bounced ridiculously, capturing the lurid attention of every male on the field.

Only when she saw Ms. Malabaster did Susan stop dead. The coach was smiling, for one thing; she NEVER smiled. But more than that, her insubstantial breasts had grown to the size of watermelons, even larger than Susan’s!

Hesitantly, Susan approached Ms. Malabaster. She smiled at Susan, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was an almost drunken smile, the smile of a stupid slave, or of a pet dog. “Ms. Malabaster, something really weird is going on.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Malabaster asked. Before Susan could relate her worries, the coach blew her whistle. “Class, today I have orders that you are not to run the mile. You are to fuck around and have fun. Get to it!” She blew her whistle again, and everyone moved off, confused but pleased. She turned back to Susan. “Now what were you saying dear?”

Susan backed away, muttering, “Never mind,” and walked away. Malabaster had said to fuck around and have fun; she’d do it off the field.

Susan walked to the library, the only place on campus that seemed like it might be a sanctuary from the rampant madness about. On the way there, she espied Marty O’Conner, resting beneath a lotus tree with a junior, Clara Duisenburg.

Things suddenly clicked for her. She’d spoken with Marty earlier today about...what? She couldn’t remember. Something amazing, though she couldn’t remember specifics. That he’d gotten some sort of incredible power and wasn’t sure how to use it, or something to that effect. How could she have forgotten it? And why was it that even now the idea was so slippery that she had to hold onto it with all her strength to keep it from getting away? And why wasn’t she the least bit frightened by that, or even concerned, or at least little more than cognizant?

Susan Parrish instantly changed her plans and marched over to speak with Marty O’Conner. She had several questions, and she suspected that he somehow had a great many answers.

Up on the dark side of the moon, Darmak, the real Darmak, studied his instruments, amazed.

Marty’s use of quantum philosophy was altering local reality in myriad ways. The boy finally seemed to be putting his powers to some pragmatic use. Darmak would have to warn him at some point to try to keep world-wide changes gradual, though. Some things were so big that there’d be occasional paradoxes and cognitive dissonance experienced by those already fairly close to the evolutionary point of quantum philosophy. It could be uncomfortable for some people, though they generally got over it after an hour or so.

One of his machines beeped, and he gravitated over to see it. All three of his eyebrows raised in surprise. First six point four billion years without a single suitable candidate for quantum philosophy, and then two in the space of one day?!

He did hope these humans would evolve to the point of galactic standards soon. They had so many surprises!