The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

When Hank woke up the first thing he realized was that he was ravenous. The second thing was that someone had gone out and picked more of the fruit.

It was Melissa. “It was, like, not raining,” she said, her voice a purr. “So I went out and there were even more fruits ready.” She gestured at the table, bending over, her breasts swaying as she moved.

Hank blinked. Melissa was bigger. A lot bigger up top. Her T-shirt was stretched, nipple indentations plain against the white fabric. The others were…

Wendy was gobbling some fruit down, the juices rolling down her chin and dripping onto the table. Her breasts weren’t as big as Melissa’s, but they were… bigger. A lot bigger than her modest bustline, and her hips were curving, full ass stretching her jeans.

Her jeans hadn’t been that tight. Not last night. And Carla, the stocky girl was…

Holy shit, did that happen overnight? Her tits had always been on the large side, but now they were practically udders, pressing out, showing off her deep valley of tit-flesh. Her broad, dark nipples were actually showing through the thin fabric of her T-shirt.

And Alicia… the blond, trim figure had changed. Curvy hips and ass, her tits now far more than a handful. She’d forgone her night shirt for her halter top—which looked like it was about to explode. Her hair was rich, inches longer than it had been, tumbling down her back.

What the fuck? Hank shook his head. How the fuck had this happened? And... he felt his cock twitch, and then realized that his clothes felt a little tight.

And his... That was when he looked up and saw his reflection in one of the mirrors.

Where the girls were curvier, Hank was...

Okay, he’d never been out of shape. He was, in fact, pretty good, but now he looked like he’d been hitting the gym 24/7. His biceps were straining the fabric of his shirt, broad shoulders pulling the fabric tight. He was...

“The fuck?” Hank murmured. He looked around at the girls who were eating. The girls with their sexy, full bodies. The bodies that were just made to serve a man. Made to be his fucking sluts...

He growled, the sound low. Then Hank shook his head. He needed to get out. Check out the tree.

And besides, it looked like they’d finished all the fruit, and he wanted some more.

Next time, I’m going to tell them how much they can eat. The thought sounded through his head like the rumble of some beast.

It sounded... right.

“I’m going,” he told the girls. “You stay here.”

“But—”

“Stay. Here,” He Alicia. His girlfriend stared up at him, swallowed, and nodded, sitting back down.

Obediently.

Good. It felt good. A woman should...

Without another word, Hank turned and left the room, leaving the girls behind.

When he opened the door, he saw that the thunderstorm had passed. The rain was now a light drizzle.

Without hesitating, he strode into the dim light of morning. The wet grass crushed under his feet as he headed for where Melissa had planted the fruit.

I need to find out more about this fruit. Hank shook his head. It was part of his domain. It wasn’t right that he didn’t know everything about it. He would learn. He would make it his.

And then he came to the tree. It was twice the size it had been yesterday. Growing with incredible speed, its branches now spread out over the loamy earth.

And from every branch, there were bunches of fruit, pulling the branches down and gleaming in the light.

How the fuck... He shook his head, grabbing one fruit and munching on it absently as he walked around the tree.

The girls could just eat it and not care, but he was a man, and it was important that he understood this.

Because they were his girls, and that was his role.

Wait a minute. What the fuck? Why was he thinking like that? But every time he thought about it, there was a surge of desire. Make them his. Care for them, make them happy, because they were his women...

Hank’s growl was loud in the silent air. He’d never growled like that before, but now he could feel...

A need. It was deep in him, but now, when he imagined the girls, they were on their knees, looking at him. They were... not women. Girls.

Girls.

His girls.

His obedient girls...

His cock was swelling, uncomfortable in its prison of cloth. Hank growled again. He wouldn’t go back to Alicia or some bathroom, he didn’t need privacy. He needed release.

Melissa didn’t know why she left. Hank had told them to say, his voice seeming to fill the room. Wendy and Carla were sitting, legs pressed together, licking their lips, while Alicia was staring at the door.

But Melissa moved for it. She was the oldest, after all, and this was her farmhouse.

“Melissa!” Wendy said. “We’re supposed to stay here!”

“I—what if he needs us?” Melissa responded. The words sounded weak even to her. He didn’t need them. She remembered how much bigger, how much stronger he’d looked… just like them. Only his mass had gone to muscles, not boobs and ass.

With that thought, she cupped one meaty tit, and sighed in pleasure. It was sensitive, as well, her nipples springing erect from the way the cotton rubbed against them. The kind of thing that she could just engulf a man’s cock with while she was on her knees, servicing him, waiting until he just covered her face and jugs with his semen. Just kneeling there with all the other girls looking at her with envious eyes…

She licked her lips.

“No, like, I’ll be right back!” she said and then fled out the door, with Carla’s whine of “Melissa!” lost in the air as she went out into the cloud-covered morning.

The air was cool, and Melissa wasn’t wearing her bra—not that she could, not anymore. Her tits were just sooo fucking heavy.

She remembered dreaming, all last night, kneeling in a park with guys coming over and jerking off on her until her body was just covered by their hot semen, people pointing and talking about her as she just let them look at her body…

Her curvy, slutty, body…

Everyone talked about how Melissa had plans and things didn’t always work, but now she knew she had a great plan.

Find a guy who would know how to handle his woman.

Or women. Melissa giggled at that thought. After all, she wasn’t the only slut in the farmhouse…

But that could wait. She needed to see…

And then she saw it. The tree.

And standing in front of it was Hank. His pants were down, his skin untouched by the cool air as he growled, jerking himself off in front of her.

Melissa didn’t say anything as she stared at the thick, long shaft, Hank’s hand working it as thick white semen dripped from its tip. There was a puddle on the ground. But he was still hard, and—

“What are you doing here?” Hank asked her. “I told you to stay inside.”

“I um…” Melissa couldn’t stop staring at his cock. She was drooling. What did it taste like…

“You didn’t do what I told you to.”

“I’m sorry!” Melissa burst out. “Please, sir, what can I do?”

Hank looked at her, then looked down at his cock, and she knew what he wanted her to do.

To kneel in front of him. Like a slut, like his girl, and take that massive shaft and…

She licked her lips again.

She reached down and grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt, pulling it up and over her head with one fluid motion.

It was tight, her new boobs pushing out against it, and it felt incredible, the way the fabric just rubbed against her tits.

Melissa moaned.

“You had no idea what you were going to do with this place, did you? You just grabbed it on a whim. You didn’t plan.”

“No, sir.” Melissa dipped her eyes. She really hadn’t planned. She’d just assumed everything would work out.

“You need someone to keep you under control. To take you in hand.”

His words were powerful, something strong in them. Melissa just looked up and shivered, not from the air or the mist, but from the way he seemed to look through her, a bull staring at the placid cow it was about to breed.

Breed… She moaned, her pussy starting to drip with her need to be filled.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

Melissa knew exactly what she’d do. She fell to her knees and then started crawling towards Hank, the grass brushing her tits and stiff nipples like a million teasing fingers. She whimpered from the sensation and wondered what the others would say if they saw her. Would they be shocked, amazed…

Or envious as they joined her, crawling to the man who stood over her. Would Alicia be pissed, or understand that…

Hank didn’t need just one woman…

She paused just in front of his cock. Look up. “May I?”

“Get to it, girl,” Hank commanded.

Girl. Girl. I’m his girl… Melissa shivered with delight and bent forward. First, she kissed the tip, luxuriating in the feel of the warm skin on her lips, the taste of his cum as she ran her tongue over his broad cockhead. She’d never seen a man this big before.

She’d never been like this, kneeling before a man, and the feeling of obedience, of serving him was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. It felt right.

She opened her mouth, first running her tongue up and down his shaft before she submissively kissed his balls. Then she felt Hank put one broad hand up, running his fingers through her rich hair. He pulled her onto his organ, his fingers entwined in her thick hair, the tugging sensation driving her even closer to orgasm.

She’d just started, and she was about to cum!

But Hank shook his head as if he knew.

“Not yet.” He growled. Then he pulled her onto his cock, Melissa’s mouth forced open, straining to fit the thick organ. Melissa moaned around the intruder, running her tongue over the hot skin. She arched her back and then cupped her jugs and used them to rub the shaft as Hank kept control over her pace.

It was so fucking cool—her pussy juices weren’t just getting her shorts damp, they were soaked, dripping down on the damp grass under her.

“You’re gonna learn to listen to me,” Hank told her. “If you want to be my girl.”

“Mph… mph…”

“What about Alicia? She’s also my girl. You got a problem with that?”

Melissa shook her head, then grunted as Hank forced his cock into her, into her mouth, into her throat, but she wasn’t gagging, just taking it like she’d been fucking sucking cock for all of her life.

And she loved it. Why hadn’t she been sucking cock all of her life? Why had she had to wait until now, until she’d eaten that wonderful fruit that gave her the kind of jugs and hips that a man would want to fuck… Become the kind of woman a man would want to make… his.

Like Hank. His low growls were dominating. Animalistic. The kind of thing that reminded her that here she was, on her knees, submitting, and God, it was such a fucking turn-on!

But then she felt his cock start to swell in her mouth, the rich taste of his cum getting stronger…

“Take it!” Hank growled, and then Melissa came, the thought that here she was, submitting to a man, to her man…

Her muffled screams filled the air, and then she was desperately swallowing, trying to get every bit of that glorious cum into her mouth, swallowing it down where it sat in her belly, a hot fire, almost like she’d drank fine whiskey, filling her. But she couldn’t get it all down, and soon, the precious fluid was overflowing her mouth, dribbling down onto her chin and dripping onto her jugs.

Hank pushed her back and she fell back, her mouth surrendering his cock with a popping sound, and then he was spraying her, his semen raining over her tits, her face and her hair.

Melissa’s squeal filled the air as she arched her back, offering her body to Hank and then she shuddered as another orgasm ran through her body, before she lay back on the damp earth, looking up at him with a glazed expression.

“Wanna…” she slurred out… “Wanna fuck me more?” She started to undo her shorts.

“You haven’t earned it,” Hank said, looking down at her. “We’re going back to the house. Pick the fruit, fill the basket.”

Melissa licked her lips.

“Yes, sir…” she said.

Because that was what you said to a man like Hank.