The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I did shave my pussy when I woke up the other day, and it did look much better. It also made me aroused all day whenever the newly-bare skin rubbed against my panties (new ones, of course, though I did for a moment consider wearing the ruined ones when I picked them up off the floor that morning). Unfortunately, my routes didn’t take me anywhere near Her house that day, a fact I resolved to correct as I jilled myself to sleep that night.

I may have been a little late to work the next day, because that morning I realised I could rub my pussy in the shower as well. Still, my brain was running on overdrive as I plotted my routes, ending up with a large two-hour chunk between deliveries in the middle. And as it happened, it put me about five minutes away from Her house.

It was even better that day than two days before. I pulled down my trousers to keep them clean, but decided to keep the panties on. I had made me feel so excited running around with cum-soaked panties and I wanted to feel that again. I waited for Her moans to start coming from the house again before I peeked through the window, in case She was looking around for any voyeurs before She started playing with Herself, and when I saw Her again, lounging naked on the sofa, I was once again lost in the haze of Her beauty.

Only an hour later, when She got up and left, did I come to my senses again. Just like before, my clothes were a mess, my hair was a mess, and my panties were soaked so much I was doubtful I could ever wash them completely clean. For some reason, that idea made me feel really good, and I resolved to wear new undies every day until they were all squelching with my juices. Then I’d have to wear them dirty. Also, I had to get my hair under control again, but unlike the first time, now I knew exactly what I was doing when I smoothed it with my fingers, covering it with a thin layer of my cum.

The next few days went by in a flash as I developed a routine – wake up in the morning, rub myself to an orgasm or two in the shower, get a large chunk of free time around noon (She was as punctual as me in this; I could almost set my watch by the time She started playing with Herself every day), spend that time worshipping Her from afar, get home in the evening and jill myself to sleep.

I wasn’t wearing any clothes at home if I could help it. I wasn’t even sure why I ever bothered. The only people who could see into my flat were the two girls from the next building living on the same floor as me (and now that I considered it, they must have been the kind of girls that would appreciate it, since they lived in the same flat layout as me, and it was fairly snug for one person) and I actually started hoping they’d look. I suppose that to most people, my place would fairly reek, but to me it was a whiff of sweet-smelling bliss every time I got home.

I even started a personal collection. I pulled down my posters from one of the walls (I now knew the only reason I had what I had thought were hunks on my posters was that society expected me to be straight) and started pinning my ruined panties to them, together with dates. I was putting up the last pair when I realised I chose the one wall the girls from the other building could see with the least difficulty, which made me so aroused I had to rub myself right there, too horny to remember to close the curtains. When I noticed that afterwards, I almost had to masturbate again. Which gave me an idea.

I stuffed the curtains into the back of my wardrobe. I was now on permanent display. Just by walking around the flat, I would be giving the girls a show; doubly so whenever the need to stuff my hand between my legs grabbed me. The thought made me giddy with excitement.