The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I already had one foot in the hallway when I heard a giggly, “Girl, you need yourself a bigger towel!” If I’d heard it before I opened the door, I would have waited. The voice was right, whoever it was. It was coming from inside one of the rooms, and I was miles from learning voices. I barely knew names, and could only match a handful to faces. It hadn’t seemed like I’d need to, considering the foul up.

The baby blue towel was normal size. Probably bigger than mine, even. It was only that the girl wearing it had several inches on me, and between the amount of it needed to cover the slope of her bust and the sheer scale of her torso, the thing barely covered her ass. I wasn’t sure it did, honestly. I looked away fast. By the time my maleness kicked in for a double-take, she was rounding the corner, where I saw how barely it was doing its job on her boobs.

Fucking Higgins 3.

There were two bathrooms on the floor, men’s and women’s. I felt like a king, at first, striding into the men’s room. Six bathroom stalls, five sinks, four showers, and even a bathtub tucked away in a little closet in the back. I was the only one on the floor with a key to it, I’d been told. The thing looked like it hadn’t been used in years, but it was all mine nevertheless. All this, all mine.

Until Ramona touched base to notify me where I’d been reassigned to, anyway. I’d already packed a bunch of my stuff this morning, to be ready.

It gave me an excuse to hide out after what I’d done with Quinn, too.

My kingly sense faded before too long when I realized almost forty girls were trying to share the same capacity in the other bathroom. I showered quickly, dressed, then hurried around the loop to the other, where sure enough, there was a line of robe and towel-clad girls out the door, awaiting their turn. Damn, but there were a lot of cute girls on Higgins 3. A man could snap a picture of this lineup and sell posters; they’d adorn half the male dorm rooms on campus.

“Hey, since there’s only one of me, and I’m well past done, you guys… Girls, sorry. You—”

“Women,” a gorgeous black girl corrected just loud enough to be sure I heard her. Torielle but goes by Tori, I thought. The really soft spoken girl’s, Ellie’s, roommate.

“Right, sorry. Ladies—if that’s all right?” Tori nodded, smiling graciously. “You ladies can feel free to use the men’s bathroom.”

The smart ones scattered immediately. Some evidently preferred the girls’—women’s—room. And one, a tiny little freckly redhead I was quite sure had been wearing glasses when we met yesterday. “Is it… clean?”

I laughed. “They closed Higgins down for all last year for the renovations, and before that it was a women’s floor. So I’ve been the only guy using it, and before that any damage is on your team. I think you’ll be OK…?”

The young woman caught my upward inflection; we’d all been doing it for a solid day now. “Andi,” she supplied. She brightened, if shyly. I’d seen that look before. These freshmen, leaving behind friends and families, being on their own for the first time… It was that smile, when something inside them clicked. A connection made, some small thing tethering them to their new world. I loved that smile.

“Andi. Right. I’ll remember that. Why don’t you head on down, see if I wrecked the place for you, OK?”

She grinned ear to ear. “OK. Spencer.”

I raised my voice as I called after her, so it would reach more ears. “And remember, we’re meeting at 11 for lunch, and then we’re doing campus tours. Tell your friends!”

Andi giggled, and merrily complied. “Lunch and tour at 11, everybody!”

This place had grown on me overnight. I was going to miss Higgins 3. Miss it like hell.

Quinn’s surprise visit had evidently taught me nothing. Right around 10:30, the door swung open not a half second after someone knocked. This time, though, it wasn’t some swaggering teenage girl coming to stick a finger in my ass.

Thankfully? Yeah, let’s go with thankfully. Easier to keep things straight in my head that way.

“Hey, Ramona!” I hopped up from my desk, more from surprise than anything. Not guilt. No way she knew. Right?

“As you were,” my boss said with a bemused roll of the eyes. She’d been in here during training, once, while passing through the floor to make sure mini-fridge deliveries had gone well. I hadn’t been unpacked at the time. It looked almost the same now.

“So, here to escort me out? You’ll never take me alive!”

She smiled, but it faded quickly. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Mind if I have a seat?”

I was already sitting back down in the room’s only chair, but I gestured her to the bed. “Sorry, I haven’t made it yet.”

“Good lord, Spencer, you might be the most gallant man I’ve ever met. I’m a married woman pushing thirty and I don’t even make my bed most days. I can handle it.” Her eyes went back to one of my posters, depicting a car on a dirt road with an enormous tornado bearing down on it. The caption read, Perseverance, and in smaller font beneath, the courage to ignore the obvious wisdom of turning back.

“My dad got it for me junior year, when I was thinking of taking a job at my buddy’s mom’s company. Or I guess he got it for me after I decided to stick with it. Get my degree, that is. He thought it was pretty funny. I’m glad he talked me down, though.”

“So am I.”

My cheeks flushed a little. All right, so I had sort of a mini-crush on my boss. It’s not my fault. It wasn’t the physical so much, though she was more than pretty. Sitting in my bed with her legs crossed in a fetching little burgundy sweater dress with her glossy brown hair tucked as if incidentally into this sloppy little pony tail out the right side of her head. Neither was it the accent, something vaguely eastern European that my untraveled American sensibilities deemed almost musical.

No, it was Ramona herself. She wore her spirit on her face like makeup. In it I saw her compassion, her intelligence, her commitment to her ideals, her kindness. She was one of those rare genuinely good people. I’d crossed paths with her time and again over the past couple years as an RA over at Rowland when we did campus-wide staff training and events. I’d noticed her then as the hot manager, but not much more than that. Getting to know her better these past few weeks, I have to say, I was a big fan. Her husband was one hell of a lucky man.

Which made what I knew she was about to tell me all the tougher to hear.

“So. Where are they sending me off to?”

Ramona smiled at my cutting right to it. She was a fan of mine, too; she’d told me as much, grateful to have an experienced staffer on board, plus the diversity I hadded to Higgins staff by virtue of having a dick. (Not how she put it, of course.) I knew she’d be sad to lose me, which was some small comfort.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Take a deep breath for me, OK? I knew you’d be anxious, but you look like you’re ready to faint on me, Spencer.”

I nodded. “Sorry. Just… had a good opening night.” (True, even aside from Quinn. Suddenly I imagined a stray blob of my cum dribbling down off the ceiling and spattering on the tip of Ramona’s nose. I took another deep breath. “There’s some good people up here. My replacement’s lucky.”

“Hey. What did I say about getting ahead of yourself?” She grinned disarmingly. “Are you ready to hear me out, or should I come back another time?”

“Now’s good. Very very interested in talking about this now.”

Grin upgraded to laugh. Soon I’d be back in Rowland, managed once again by John, a nice enough fellow but a bureaucrat’s bureaucrat. Goodbye fantasies of quiet autumn one-on-ones sipping coffee with Ramona, smooth jazz playing in the background while we tried to figure out how best to spend my floor’s programming budget; in her cozy little office nook; hello one-on-ones with John in his cinder block dungeon, enduring his unwitting attempts to gas his staff into submission with his daily gallon of cologne.

My for-now boss spoke. I listened. “So first off, Bob did some digging around, and we figured out what happened. Kind of. One of his people up in the home office, the one doing housing assignments for Higgins, fouled up. Big-time. He didn’t say if it was foul play or an innocent mistake, though I’d assume the latter. Procedurally, they do housing unit by unit—so for Higgins, that’s floor by floor. For these new coed floors, they’d split them in half. So in the system, there was one unit listing for Higgins 3 men, and one for Higgins 3 women. With me so far?”

I nodded. “Straightforward enough.”

“Now Bob didn’t have the precise play-by-play of it for me, so I had to read between the lines a bit. Between you and me, I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody’s packing their things over this screw-up, so there’s only so much he can say when it’s an employment issue.”

“Sure, OK. Just… how does this happen? If the system says Higgins 3 dudes, then Higgins 3 chicks, whoever’s doing assignments would have to assume there should be people on both rosters, right? And wouldn’t some rooms be listed in—”

“Hold up, tiger. Our housing software is pretty antiquated, and mistakes do get made. We have a resident on Vickie’s floor who was assigned to two different rooms, a room on Carmen’s floor that had three women assigned to it that she and I just barely caught in time. It’s not what you call a well-oiled machine.”

“You’re just saying that because we have thirty women and zero men assigned to a male RA.”

“Well… yeah.” She shrugged, and frustrated as I was, it alleviated a little tension. “So in regards to the fubar situation we inherited here. My sense of things? A stupid coincidence. It looks like you have enough girls on your floor with names that could go either way gender-wise. My guess is that they skimmed and saw some girls assigned to it named Terry and Alex and Quinn and so forth, assumed it was the guys’ roster, so then they treated the other as the women’s roster, thus in effect making both the guy’s and girl’s lists all women.”

I shook my head. “But… doesn’t the system attach a gender role to the applicant? If confusion over names is all it takes to stick people on the wrong floor, why didn’t this happen all over campus?”

“The system does. The thing is, Higgins 3 is a coed floor, and while the units are split into two parts for assignments, they’re also unified for tasks like billing, work orders, judicial infractions, et cetera. So it didn’t try to filter out this gender or that. Turns out the only thing gendering the assignments for Higgins 3 here was the title of the rosters, which if you confuse those…”

“Wow. That’s…” I sighed. “That’s something.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Bob assured me we’re getting new software next year.”

“Oh man! That’s a load off.” She issued a commiserating smile. “Man, evicted from my room over a reading comprehension fail.”

Ramona looked to that poster again. The tornado seemed even closer somehow. “Well, I was thinking. Maybe… maybe we consider trying a little of that ‘perseverance’ you’re advertising there.”

My eyes narrowed. “Wait, am I being fired?”

“Oh my god, no!” Ramona rushed over and crouched in front of me, putting her hands consolingly on my knees. Yeesh, that was not a dress made for kneeling in. Not unless you had incredible thighs, at least. “No no no, Spencer. You have a job, OK? You’re going to be fine. There was… talk… of something along those lines. I squelched that hard, though. If it makes you feel better, it didn’t take much pressure. You’ve been around enough and made enough of an impression that Bob knows your reputation. Between you and me, don’t be surprised if Bob tries to recruit you into our noble ranks when you graduate.”

“I wonder what women’s hall he’ll assign me to in grad school,” I muttered.

Ramona was a big one for touching. I figured it must be more the norm in her culture. Honoring that, I put my hands over hers, if nothing else to show my gratitude for her going to bat for me. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be sour. So then… I’m sorry, what’s happening to me?”

“Bob left it up to me, but I think you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and I’m going to leave it up to you. Now as you can imagine, we can’t very well displace half of your residents. Not even if we wanted to, and I don’t. So, we either need to swap you with another RA, a woman, from another coed floor, so she’ll have your women’s community and you’ll have the mixed gender rooms you were expecting. Just not here in Higgins.”

Her sincere desire not to lose me came through in her tone. For a moment, I almost teared up. I’d always been a bit of a crier. “All right. Or…?”

“Or… You stay. Here. Under me.”

I ignored the phrasing. “But…”

“I know. It’s unconventional. It might even cause a little friction. Still, this is 2022, not 1965. If not for that ‘reading comprehension fail,’ as you called it, these women all would have had a male RA anyway. They simply would have also had male floormates. Insofar as the occupant of this room is concerned, I see no conflict. Moreover, without you, I lose my most senior staff member. We lose our only man on the Higgins staff. I’m left with someone I didn’t train, in exchange for a great staff member.”

“Wait. Are you saying… I’m staying here?”

“I’m saying you have a choice, Spencer. I realize this might be uncomfortable for you, and likely you’ll—we’ll—take some pushback over it if you decide to stay. If this is outside your comfort zone, I understand completely. I’ll respect whatever you decide. But, if it’s something that matters to your decision, just know that I want you here. I did before, and I still do now. But if you decide otherwise, say the word and I’ll get the transfer process started.”

There was really nothing to consider. I gave those delicate hands of hers a squeeze. She squeezed back.

“You know you’re going to have to give up the men’s bathroom, Spencer.”

“Way ahead of you, boss.”

Ramona leapt to her feet, lifting me with her and throwing a hug around my shoulders with a cheer. I hugged back for all I was worth.

Did Ramona kiss my cheek in our moment of celebration? Honestly, I was so excited in that moment, I couldn’t have said, and couldn’t have blamed her. I was hers, and Higgins 3 was mine.