The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

How a Bad Girl Tastes,

By MichelleLovesTo

“Darn it, I wish I could afford another car!” ’Nadette fumed as she walked down the road, wearing her Catholic school uniform. Her car was still at the side of the road and she would worry about it later. She had to get to the rehearsal. Sister Pat was expecting her.

She knew men were staring as she trudged along. Of course they were. Didn’t your average man want a sexy little school girl for their very own?She felt herself getting a little turned on, knowing she caused that reaction. And if they only knew what was underneath the uniform, she thought, in a naughty manner that was unsuitable for a Catholic School Girl.

She was wearing old-fashioned underwear, complete with stockings and garters. When Sister Pat had told her it was part of the costume for the play it had annoyed her to no end. She had not even been sure how the get-up worked, and she still was not sure she had it right.

But the strange thing was that as she’d gotten dressed she’d felt a rush. It turned her on. The stockings made her shapely legs look even nicer and she realized with a tingle in her pussy that she had a church-sanctioned excuse to be in public in clothes that were not meant to be seen by anyone other than a lover. Not that she had ever been with a lover. She was a good girl, for better or worse, and would never do anything to embarrass herself or her family.

After a couple minutes she was used to cars slowing down to get a better look, but now one pulled up. There was a man in his thirties behind the wheel, and his eyes looked her over appraisingly, almost as if she were a piece of meat.

“Do you need a ride?”

She was about to say “No.” It was obvious that he wanted something from her, something that a good girl would not even think of giving to her boyfriend, let alone a stranger. Then her eyes met his and her resistance began to fade.

Her words came out with no conviction. “I don’t know you, I can’t go for a ride with you. I’ll walk, but Thank You.” She had no idea why she was thanking him for undressing her with his eyes.

If anything his gaze became bolder, and it was as if he knew what she had on underneath the uniform. But how could he possibly? Oh, the stockings have a seam in the back, she thought, he must have seen when he pulled up behind me. No wonder he thinks I am a hooker! She looked in his lap, noticing a bulge, and then met his eyes in shock.

As their eyes met she felt her pussy throb hard, just once. He smiled as if he knew, as if he were responsible. This didn’t make any sense. She knew she should be screaming, or running, something.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride, Darlin’? By your uniform I would say you were on your way to Saint Mary’s.” And then he rubbed his crotch—no pretense about it. He looked down and laughed. “Don’t mind this, it’s an old war wound!” She thought, Silly Girl, and you thought it was something bad! Part of her brain knew that there was something very, very off about it all.

She heard her own voice speaking. Accepting the ride. “Okay, I guess you seem trustworthy enough.” She slid in. “I am probably going to be late and the nuns are going to have a fit!”

She realized that her skin seemed supersensitive all of a sudden. She felt goosebumps on her arms, and her nipples hardening against the material of the bra. When she had put the bra on earlier, she’d realized that as sexy as it might look, the material was not as soft as was used today. As sexy as it might look, she knew she would not wear something like that every day. Now she realized that the stiffness of the material was serving a purpose: to tease her suddenly-aching nipples.

“Don’t worry about being late, I know a shortcut.”

At his words there was a sudden ominous, but not unpleasant, feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her voice sounded giggly and happy though as she said, “Okay!”

The man turned and ’Nadette wondered how it could be a short cut, since he was going in the opposite direction from school. In fact, if you squinted in the opposite direction you could see the spire for the accompanying church. But then, he was a man and would know better than her. Where did THAT come from? Another wave of horniness came across her and she squirmed in her seat.

“Something wrong, Darlin’?”

The man smiled a little as he asked this, as if he knew exactly what the problem was, but ’Nadette knew that simply was not possible. She couldn’t possibly tell this stranger that suddenly she wanted to stick her hand up her skirt and touch herself and keep touching herself until her pussy exploded. And yet she almost felt compelled to tell him just that! Her confused mind looked for a logical excuse for fidgeting.

“Oh, it’s just that I am going to a rehearsal for a play. Guys and Dolls actually. I get to be on stage in my underwear and everyone can see me.” Oh, where did that come from...? Don’t say that! “I mean, I’m not sure that I quite had the hang of how to do the, um. Stockings and garters.” Crap, now he is thinking of me in my underwear. What is the matter with me?

He turned down a somewhat darkened alley and his hand reached out as he said, “Let me look. You are right, you might have them gartered wrong.” His hand slipped off of the stockings for a moment and onto the silk of her inner thigh. “Sorry about that,” he said as ’Nadette shivered.

“Mmm, oh, that’s quite all right, I know it was just an accident.” His fingers had felt so good on her thigh, so close to where her body was pulsing.

The man came to a stop and began to examine her outfit better, pushing her plaid skirt out of the way, and she found herself holding it up for him. “Now see, I think the clip goes up here, higher on the leg.” In his efforts to help her his hand slipped again, this time lightly cupping her mound. She felt her hips lift up to meet his hand more.

This is so wrong? What must be think of me? God, I want his mouth between my legs, oh, where did THAT come from? I don’t mean that!

The man continued talking, “See, here is your problem. You don’t wear the panties under the garters, in case you need to take them down for some reason.”

“Oh, how silly of me.” Try to sound normal, make small talk. “How do you know all this?”

His hands were running up and down her stockings. “Oh, I’ve done some play-acting myself, and was always more than willing to help out a lady in distress. Tell you what, why don’t you bend over the seat and I will check to make sure your seams are straight?”

’Nadette found herself complying even as she knew it was wrong. It was as if he had no control over her actions, no ability to stop. She knew how she must look. And she realized with a jolt she wanted this, needed suddenly to show this man how sexy she could be.

She looked flirtatiously over her shoulder at her own charms. “Like this? I want it to be just right.”

“No, see, the back clip is just too far over.” She felt a snap as he unhooked the garter and she jumped a little. “Sorry Angel, it’ll only be red for a while. Why don’t you raise your bottom up a little so I can see who I am doing, I mean, what I am doing. What a slip of the tongue, huh?”

She mumbled a sound of agreement that sounded ragged to her own ears and eagerly obeyed, sticking her round behind up more.

“Let me move in closer for a better, lick, er, look. We need to get this just right.” His hot breath was on her now, feeling like a touch. She felt him continue to unhook the garters from the stockings with an anticipation that was painful. I hope he doesn’t know what I am thinking, but how could he?

Then his next words filled her with shame. “Well, there seems to be something else going on here. A certain dampness that makes it hard for me to truly judge the situation. Maybe I can wipe some of it away with my hand.”

The shame at the fact that he knew was overridden with desire as she felt his hand between her legs, rubbing her through her panties, and then a couple fingers slipped underneath the leg band and lightly touched her for a few delicious seconds. She gasped and then moaned, not caring how it sounded. He took his hand away and she moaned again in frustration.

“That better, darlin’?”

“No, I mean yes... I don’t know!” Her voice sounded husky, she wanted and needed things she couldn’t yet bring herself to think about.

“You aren’t sounding too coherent right now. Do your parents pay money to send you to this school? Explain what you mean and I will give you a present.”

“It felt so good, but that’s just the thing, a good girl isn’t supposed to feel like this, is she?”

The man exploded in mocking laughter. “What sucker told you that you were a good girl? I am pretty sure that good girls don’t go around showing their sexy underwear to strangers.”

She turned her head to look at him. “But know I am a good girl, I AM! Really, I don’t know why I am acting this way! I’m so confused!”

The man licked his fingers. “This doesn’t taste like a good girl to me, but maybe I ought to check the source.”

“Nooo,” she moaned, opening her legs further.

“You are the one questioning your good girl status. I am just helping you out. Would you like a taste too? You can take it off my tongue... in just a moment.” She felt his tongue on her inner thigh, licking slowly upward, and then she felt him move her panties aside and his tongue found its goal.

“Please,” she moaned, “Don’t stop... lick me, oh, lick my pussy!”

The man stopped but she could still feel his breath on her. “Sit down, Darlin.” She obeyed, nearly crying from the frustration.

Then he kissed her and she tasted herself and she knew that this was not something that a good girl would do and no good girl could have ever tasted like this. And she knew that he tasted like badness and sin, too, and that she had to have more.

His hand grabbed her smaller hand and put it on his crotch, onto the bulge she’d seen earlier. The illusion that it was anything other than that which it really was fell away. She felt her hand rub him of its own volition.

He whispered against her mouth. “What good girl would ever do that?”

She didn’t want to speak, only wanted to feel. Even through his clothes his cock felt good, and filled her with yearning. She felt herself undo his pants and suddenly her fingers were wrapping around him, stroking with an expertise that she had absolutely no reason to have. She wondered how she knew just what to do.

As if he heard her thoughts he said, “Mmm, Darlin’, you do that like a pro.”

She felt pride fill her at her seemingly-natural proficiency. When he said “pro” did he mean slut? Oh, God, I hope so!

He removed her hand. “Pop quiz, Darlin’! Put that private-school education to use. What kinda girl shows her underwear to strangers? What kind of girl lets older men touch her? What girl spreads her legs to someone she has only known a couple minutes and then suckles his tongue to get a taste of her own cunt juices? What kind of girl strokes a cock like an expert and nearly sobs with frustration when made to stop?”

“Oh, a bad girl.” Her whole body was pulsing and she sat there with her skirt hiked up and the palm of her hand still radiating the heat of him.

“What’s another word for a bad girl, Darlin’? Tell me or I toss you out in this alley and you’ll never see me again.”

“A slut!” It felt so good to say it, admit it.

“What else?”

“Mmmm, a whore!”

“So what are you?”

“I am a slut, oh, and a whore, and a piece of ass ... and Oh, God!” Suddenly she was on the brink of cumming. This didn’t make sense and she didn’t understand. All she knew is that she was not a good girl, had never been a good girl at all. Who was she fooling?

He cupped her chin and she could still smell herself on his fingers; she resisted the urge to suckle them. She knew somehow that he wanted her to pay attention. She stared into his eyes, unable to look away. “I knew I picked up the right girl. I saw a girl in a Catholic school uniform and stockings and that made me curious. But I might not have stopped if I had not seen that wiggle in your ass. It was about as subtle as a red light.

“In a minute we are going into the back-seat and I am going to give you everything a girl like you needs—and you will beg for it—but first we need to talk.

“I know what you are and you know what you are, don’t waste time trying to fight it. A girl like you needs use from a man that understands her completely. You will seek out men that have that level of understanding of what you are. I am just the first in a long line.

“I don’t see you bothering with men that want to romance you too much. What’s the good of flowers and candy? We both know that it isn’t what you really crave. What you really crave you had your little hand around.

“Now tell me what I just said. Paraphrase Darlin’, but don’t be shy.”

“You picked me up because you knew that I was a slut, mmm, and you are going to give me what I need, mmm, your big cock, and ohhh, I don’t need romance, I just need men that understand what I really am. Oh, God, please fuck me!”

“That last part was extraneous in terms of paraphrasing, and yet proves the point nicely. Now just hold on for a minute. I see your hand creeping between your legs. You are having real trouble leaving it alone. TRY to hold off, because we aren’t quite done.

“You like sexy underwear, and will collect it—both vintage and modern. You will have a special weakness for the real trashy stuff. Stuff a little beyond Victoria’s Secret or Frederick’s. You just have to show off the merchandise to its best effect.

“Even when you look like a good girl on the outside, you will know that under the little uniform, or whatever the immediate world sees, is a slut in trashy underwear. You will sit in class, soaking wet, aching to show everyone what you are wearing underneath the little skirt and blouse. Because at heart you want people to know what you are.

“While you are on stage in your little slut underwear, you will be playing a game with the audience. The audience will be pretending they are good, churchgoing folks there to see a play, and that they aren’t really craving the sexy slut in the garters and stockings. Don’t you know that a girl like you can dress any way she likes as long as it is art, or the church says it’s all okay? And we all collectively pretend to believe the lie as we strain to get a better look. Your part will be to hide the fact that you are continually cumming as you feel their eyes on you. This will be how it is any time you are in front of an audience of people, and you will crave this feeling. Bad girls need to cum, don’t they?

“I think that you might want to try a career as an actress, although the mainstream stuff will be beyond you. It will take all of your abilities just to pretend you are not creaming yourself all the time. Now, after you have removed the underwear you are free to admit what you really are. All in all, you might want to seek the type of acting jobs where you can just go ahead and admit the truth. ‘Cause as good as your secret orgasms feel, I promise you the more direct approach feels even better.

“You don’t need to paraphrase, I can see that you understand entirely. Now why don’t you get into the back seat and I will give you your present.”

’Nadette scrambled into the back-seat, seeming almost comical in her rush. She wanted, needed, craved him, and she knew that she might still have time to make rehearsal. She hoped there would be a crowd.

The End.