The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Extra Sensory Persuasion

By William Pratt

Evelyn and the Perfect Score

The first time it happened, I was doing one of those goofy psychology things.

I was seated in an expensive wheeled office chair and barely listening as the observer, a clipboard carrying guy named Ed, explained the experiment. Beside me was my test dummy. He was also pretending to be paying attention, but his goofy smile blew it completely. Come to think of it Ed didn’t even look all that interested. It was probably just another day, another dollar for him too. All the same I think he was trying to take his boredom out on me because he just wouldn’t shut up.

“Ok, you got that? Simple stuff. No communications between you. No talking, no tapping on the table, no blinking in Morse code. You can look at each other, but that’s it. And may I stress again the importance of...”

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ I thought. ‘I read the briefing that you e-mailed me. Let’s get on with it; I’ve still got homework to do.’

The instructions were dead simple, so simple that it was almost chilling that Ed felt that he had to go over them again. I had to try to read another volunteer’s mind to find which symbol was printed on each card the volunteer drew. It was a sad waste of time—a glorified guessing game really, but the twenty bucks for participating in the experiment bought a few more groceries. If I wanted to keep eating regularly, I had to sacrifice a few hours of homework now and then to volunteer for these stupid things. Sometimes it just didn’t seem fair. Arts students could afford the time have little jobs to pay the bills, but with the workload that came with a real degree it wasn’t that easy. I had to live off of care packages from mom and dad, a meagre scholarship, and the occasional bone thrown to me by the better funded university departments.

The observer asked a question I didn’t catch so I just nodded.

“Since you are both are clear on the objectives and rules I’d like to formally introduce you two. Clark, say hi to Evelyn.”

I’d already taken a look at my partner. He looked like the sort of guy who you’d expect to find in the company of a bunch of giggling blonde cheerleaders. He was definitely some sort of jock: baseball, football, or hockey. Not basketball—he was tall, but not that tall. I guessed it didn’t matter which sport he played; I would have been surprised if any gave him enough of a mind for me to read at all.

“Hey Evelyn,” Clark said as he stood up and stuck out a hand.

Judging by the way he was dressed, it didn’t look like he lacked for money. He was probably doing experiments just to pick up lame brained liberal arts chicks. Ha! Being trapped here for an hour with an independent minded engineering student was probably his punishment for stealing the twenty bucks from someone who did need it. All the same, he was not likely to have a problem finding a date after the experiment. With his muddy blonde hair and the muscles that stuck out through his business faculty tee shirt, I could see that he would probably be very popular with the arts type of girl. Heck, if I found a guy who looked like that and had a mind I’d consider picking him up, but I’d been living at the Mecca for intelligent people, a university, for three years and was still waiting to find anyone worth my time. Everything that anyone needed to know about Clark’s type was proven right there.

He just stood there expectantly, so I got to my feet, took the offered hand, and gave it a polite shake. Standing he looked bigger than he did sitting down. At five foot eight I’m no Gidget, but he still had to look down a bit to give me his goofy “sleep with me” smile. And of course he kept looking down—I dropped his hand as fast as I could when he started checking out my legs.

‘Ok, ok—enough already,’ I thought. ‘I know I’m pretty; you aren’t the first guy I’ve caught staring.’

I kind of wished he could see me all dressed up so I could really drop the hammer on his ambitions. I was easily in the top quarter when I had the time to prepare, but like I was going to dress up for a bonehead fishing trip masquerading as legitimate science. I sure didn’t have that much free time. All the running around I did without a car kept me in shape, but ate up what little leisure time the coursework left. Besides, you have to be pretty dumb to be worried about looking great all the time. Sure, I took some pride in my appearance, but I never let it get out of hand. First and foremost I was an engineer; a solver of problems. Being a ‘girl’ or thinking deep thoughts about the universe came long after. I happily left the deep thoughts to the people who wouldn’t get jobs after graduation. Someone had to do it and the liberal arts losers had more free time than I did.

“Nice to meet you,” I said as I rolled my chair over to the table prepared for the experiment. I’d already flushed jocko’s name and was ready to get this over with, go home, do some more work, and get some sleep.

My partner and I seated ourselves across from each other at a large and very solid black table. I had no idea what was on his side of the table, but on mine there was a recessed bank of buttons with a glowing orange symbol marking each button. I sent a few seconds looking over my control panel then nodded to the observer. Finally Jocko finished with his preparations; it was a deck of cards. It shouldn’t have taken him very long. He picked a card and looked at it so I started concentrating on receiving his thoughts. Despite the fact that this was a total crock and my partner was an idiot, I did try my hardest. I’m no slacker; when I’m paid to work I do my best work.

I could see four wavy horizontal lines. That was button five. For the next card it was a triangle—button 2. Click, click, click. I was picking them off just like that. I hit buttons almost as fast as... Clark? Yeah, I was getting symbols almost as fast as Clark drew the cards. We burned through the first dozen or so cards as though I really did know what cards Clark really had picked. This was actually kind of fun. When I hit the next button I realized that I was looking at Clark and smiling. He was smiling right back at me and I flipped a lock of brown hair out of the way of my glasses as I tried to lose my smile.

Crap. I’d lost him. He drew the new card, but barely looked at it before a goofy smile spread across his face as his eyes tracked my hand through my hair. The idiot’s mind was wandering—probably to one of his giggle bunny girlfriends.

I started to concentrate extra hard on what this guy was thinking, but all I could see was myself now—no cards anywhere. I was dressed up in a slinky black dress, dancing and giggling like an idiot; just having a great time at a really wild party. I was, like, even drinking and fooling around a bit with the totally hot guy who was my date and stuff. My date was sort of showing me off, introducing me to friends as his girlfriend from engineering sciences. It was kind of degrading being a trophy, but I felt, like, really hot with guys looking at me and wondering if I really was as smart as I was sexy. I was as smart as sexy and I could prove it, but it was cool to leave the boys guessing.

Speaking of guessing, I had no fucking clue what card Clark was holding anymore so I just pushed a button at random to get on with it. Like, I had homework to get done.

Clark picked up another card and looked at it, but his eyes drifted to my chest and stayed there. No wonder I couldn’t find the cards anymore. His mind wasn’t on what he’s doing; he was, like, totally obsessing over my tits. I was going to clear my throat, but the rules were plain—no trying to contact the other volunteer—so I stared at him and tried to pull his attention back. My glare had no effect on him, so I figured, like, screw it. I leaned back to make my boobs stand out more so that at least part of me had Clark’s full attention and went back to trying to find the card. I found something better.

I saw myself back at the party dancing with my boyfriend; a totally close and hot dance. I moved with him and against him; his body felt wonderful against mine and I relaxed into the feeling. We started to feel each other up. My hands slid up and down his chest enjoying the muscles then around to explore his back. His hands wasted no time and started to massage my hips; he was working my dress up and then his hands were under the dress and caressing my ass. As I wondered where my panties went, I felt him growing hard and pressing into my belly. My body rocked into him guided by his hands.

I felt like we were in heaven, but then the music changed and we drifted apart. It was faster music with more percussion, but sexy in a frantic sort of way that you had to shake to. It seemed more the kind of music you played when you wanted to dance for someone rather than with them, so I relaxed and I danced for my date, my Clark. I watched his eyes as I danced to impress him with what I had and what I could promise him. I watched his eyes and they looked impressed, but they wanted more.

I had a lot more, so I let my body sway with the music and hardly danced at all as I slowly slid the dresses’ straps over my shoulders. I made a big production of it; my upper body was making my breasts wiggle more and more as I inched the top if my dress down and rolled my hips. I should have been nervous. I should have been outraged at objectifying myself, but instead I was, like, working hard at totally captivating a man. I felt so sexy. I knew just what he wanted to see and how he wanted it shown; it was, like, instinct or something like it. I felt so totally hot, he was getting hotter and when I let my breasts, like, pop out and jiggle freely poor Clark didn’t know where to look first. I barely kept myself from giggling at the cute look on his face, cupped my tits in my hands and, like, offered them to him.

“Look at these,” I said to him in my dream. “Take them.”

My hands felt so full and my thumbs totally lit up my nipples as they stroked across them, but I wanted my hands to be his hands. They should be his hands. God, I was so turned on that I had to hit a button to get time to breathe.

In the lull while my boyfriend drew a new card, I gasped in air and took stock. I felt totally wet—sweat on my body, my juices flowing between my legs and even my mind was floating on something. I tried to look for the new card, but concentrating was getting so totally hard now. Like, it was so much more fun and such a major turn on to show off for a guy—for Clark.

I felt totally wild and, like, let the fantasy go way beyond normal. As if showing off my tits to a guy I barely knew was normal, but, god, I wanted his touch. It was funny. Like, normally I didn’t think about this sort of stuff even when I was turned on, but who cared right now? I was way beyond normal already and what he did felt totally better than anything I usually dreamed about. Up until now, my few fantasies were all soft and sweet, all kisses and endearing words, but I realized what they were missing and why they could never feel as good as this. They were totally self centered and dull; I never even thought about what my guy wanted. What Clark was doing in to me was all fondle and lick; it was intended to bring him pleasure as much as it was me. He was toying with me and forcing me to feel outrageously good. I felt excited beyond everything I’d ever imagined and he did it by doing everything wrong. By doing what he wanted to do. I wondered if I ever knew what I really wanted; I don’t think I did, but Clark sure knew and he was, like, totally giving it to me.

He knew how I wanted to be touched, where I wanted to be touched and when. He even knew what I really wanted to hear. It wasn’t what I though it would be. He didn’t tell me he loved me; instead he raved about how hot I was, how sexy I looked and somehow that felt more satisfying than the “I love you” bullshit from the guys I’d dated. They, like, never said things like “You are so fucking HOT!” and I’d have belted them if they did. God, I was so stupid. I didn’t even know myself; yet I was, like, totally willing to fight for my ignorance. That’s not how a scientist should think. She should experiment.

So I did. I wanted to take things up another notch and feel what would come next, so I held his hands on my breasts and pushed against him. I stood up on my tippy toes, leaned in, and I kissed him. The shocked look he had for a moment before he responded made him look so sweet. One of my old fantasy guys would have responded immediately, but Clark didn’t seem to have seen it coming. He sort of looked shocked; like I’d walked into his fantasy and taken it over. I could tell that it really turned him on and I even got some soft words from his lips when I gave him a chance to breath. He was being cute and a gentleman so I thanked him with a deeper kiss. This was more like what I always imagined; the hands on my breasts just added to the pleasure.

Clark’s eyes gleamed as he broke off the kiss and asked for me something else. Something that I did not want to do at all. I didn’t even want to think about it, so I hit a button just to get to the next card. I needed to have something else to concentrate on.

He drew and I focussed on looking for the new card, but when I couldn’t find it I went back to thinking about making out with Clark. It didn’t feel the same this time because there was no spontaneity this time. He did what I wanted. Worse, I felt guilty because I wasn’t really doing the experiment anymore. We’d been doing so well on the first batch of cards, so I concentrated really hard on finding that damn card. Get this over with, go home finish my homework and maybe, like, dress up and party after. Show me the card dammit. Show me... Oh God!

I felt him sliding into my mouth. I didn’t know what to do, but somehow I knew what I was supposed to do. I knew I wanted to feel it in my mouth, with my hands, stroke it and taste it with my tongue. I knew how to feel it, where to feel it, how Clark wanted it. Like, oral sex was something I never really thought of as being fun; it was a totally disgusting idea, but in practice it was wonderful. It totally excited me. I moaned around it, licked it and somehow massaged the puffy bit at the end with my lips by moving my head around in small circles. I teased him a bit with my teeth and smiled at the moan he made. As I stroked the shaft with one hand, the other worked under dress play with my pussy. I didn’t really play with myself much, but it just seemed like a good idea—something you’re supposed to do with a, uh, guy in your mouth so I, like, went with it. God, was it ever a good idea. Between my hand stroking me and my lips and tongue stroking him I don’t think I’d ever felt so horny or so sexy. I was making love with my mouth in my mind and I loved it. I had to try this for real.

I also had to look up. I had to see him; I had to see that Clark was enjoying this as much as I was. So I forced myself to be content merely with licking and tried to catch his eye. It wasn’t hard—he was watching me and his slack face told me everything I needed to know. He was so sexy and he smiled as my tongue slid over him. Our eyes locked and I told him how good his cock tasted; how much I loved it and I wasn’t lying. I went back to experimenting and tried to see how much I could fit in my mouth. It wasn’t as much as I’d have liked, but this was something I’d love to spend time practicing.

I looked over across the table and met Clark’s glassy stare. His face mirrored the one in my fantasy and he looked so happy that I couldn’t help but return his smile. Then I licked my lips and pushed another random button. The sooner we finished the sooner we could do this for real. That would be later though and for the now I was concentrating so hard on being his best ever that when Clark twitched, I felt it too. I could almost, like, taste him.

The next card, along with the cards after, was a total waste. I totally focussed on Clark. I, like, didn’t even think about what card Clark had drawn because all I wanted was to be spread on the table and fucked. I was still wearing my sexy tight dress, but it was bunched up like a thick belt around my abdomen. My thighs were spread and my knees bent; my legs poised and ready to wrap themselves around Clark as soon as he entered me. I didn’t know if I wanted to do that, but my legs sure did. It just felt right and I knew that just lying there wasn’t going to do either of us any good. I waited impatiently as Clark lowered himself between my up thrust knees. I could already feel the heat of his body; feel the heat of my body. He was being careful, lining himself up and trying to be courteous. I didn’t care if he was a gentleman now. As far as I was concerned we were both ready and he was just teasing me, the bastard. I felt him, his... him. It bounced against me as he positioned it, but I was tired of waiting. My legs wrapped around him and tightened as I pressed a button.

He drew a card and slid into me.

I pressed a button and kissed him.

He drew a card and I rolled him over.

I pressed a button and he tongued a nipple.

He drew a card and took me from behind.

I pressed a button and...

And I almost screamed out loud at the feeling. I could, like, feel Clark pouring into me between my legs and inside my mind. Everything was tingling. Clark and the feeling were the only things that mattered. Clark... I was staring in his eyes, breathing heavily, rocking slightly, and I was sweating like I just ran from one end of the campus to the other. My god—the observer he must have seen us fucking on the table! Where was my dress? I didn’t care. I wanted to keep going! I kept hitting buttons waiting for the pleasure they had brought me, but I was betrayed. Clark was strong; he was an athlete so I knew he couldn’t be worn out so soon. Why did he stop? Was he just going to tease me again? Forget that! I put my hands on the table to pull myself up. I was all ready to crawl over the table and make Clark keep going, but then I realized that it wasn’t his fault.

He had no more cards.

There would be no more thrusting, stroking, kissing, or licking. There never had been. None of it was real and it was still the best I’d ever had. I’d brought myself to orgasm just dreaming about Clark. Disappointed, I broke off the unconscious staring match I’d been in for who knows how long with my lover. I blinked, shook my head to get a funny tension out and tried to stand on my shaky legs then I realized that what had happened would be visible when I stood up. Clark didn’t look that much better off than I did. Of course not, his dream girl comes when he does and I’m his dream girl. He was still smiling and stealing the occasional glance. I couldn’t stop myself from taking a couple at him as well. Of course not, he’s my dream guy. As we alternated taking glances and looking away like a pair of idiots in denial and I felt the same way I had in the dream—dizzy, lost and more than a little horny.

I stood gathering my thoughts and enjoying the last of the feelings as my body came down from its high. I had to do that again. While the observer paid Clark and thanked him for participating, I busied myself trying figure out a way to get Clark to take me. I could do math that made people’s heads spin; making a guy fall in love with me should have been easy, but I was getting nowhere. I was totally drawing a blank when the observer turned to me and started talking. I was mentally and sexually frustrated; I couldn’t think straight and Ed wasn’t helping.

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ I thought. ‘I read the briefing that you e-mailed me. Let’s get on with it; Clark’s getting away!’

I was totally ignoring Ed’s spiel because half of me was still working on getting Clark alone and the other half was imagining the ways we would make love once I got him alone. I’d never before even thought of a tenth of what was running through my mind. Some of it was pretty weird, but I knew I’d love it. My imagination was in sexual overdrive and I was twitching with anxiety worse than any exam stress. Clark was getting away from me. I was on the verge of bolting—fuck the twenty dollars—when Ed said something important.

“I’m amazed miss,” he said as he handed over a twenty dollar voucher. “I’ve never seen anyone get all of them before. The professor will want to have you two back again for more tests if you are available. I can’t believe it—you had a perfect score.”

“Yes... He is, isn’t he?” I said absently as I mentally parsed the “have you two back again.” I’ve got time to figure this out! With the pressure off, an idea clicked. I could, like, just ask Clark out! Become his brainy engineering sciences girlfriend! He could show me off at parties to get his buddies jealous and then screw me silly afterwards!

“Clark! Hey Clark! Like, wait up!” I called out and ran after him, praying I had enough left in the bank to buy that little black dress.

And, like, that was just the first time it happened. You should have seen what I did the next time.