The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mrs. Struther’s Home Economics and Beauty Fitness class was far and away the most popular course of study at Riverglen High School, a private all-girls academy in northern Kentucky. It seemed that half the girls in school were clamoring to be enrolled, while the other half were content to attend the more conventional Phys. Ed. & Olympic Training.

It was not true, as many of the students believed, that Mrs. Struthers chose her students based on appearance. The fact was that at Riverglen High, good-looking women were incredibly plentiful. What set the Home Ec. students apart was their more feminine leanings, and in many cases, an excess of vanity. Mrs. Struthers held out the promise of glamourous modeling careers for these girls, who were so beautiful that the idea was not at all far-fetched. And Mrs. Struthers herself, still attractive in her forties, had enough background in the industry to make her teachings credible.

Some of the students in the course weren’t comfortable with the unusual class uniform Mrs. Struthers required. The uniforms were little more than string bikinis, in an attractive green and white pattern, with each girl’s name sewn on the trunks just above the crotch (the wearers took little notice of a smaller insignia in the back, ‘Property of Riverglen High School.’) But even the shyest girl understood that the uniforms emphasized what they were expected to learn in the class—to be healthy, beautiful, sexy, and desirable.

Much of the class involved concentrated study and strenuous work, to master the arts of cooking, cleaning, and healthy living. But the girls were given breaks for fun and creative activities—singing, costume design, theatre. Mrs. Struthers even taught a week-long course in the art of lap dancing, which the girls took turns practicing on each other, to the great amusement of all.

The only drawback to the course was Mrs. Struthers’ teaching assistant, Iva Clark. A short, plain-looking 25-ish bleach blonde, Iva had an indifferent attitude that tended to throw cold water on things. She ignored the students to such a degree that many of the girls became incensed, especially when she would walk away, not bothering to answer a question.

One of the most beautiful girls, an aspiring model named April, actually went to Mrs. Struthers to complain after an incident in class. April had been late, and had dawdled in the locker room. When she had finally made her appearance on the gym floor, all of her classmates had already paired up for lap-dancing. April had no choice but to partner with Iva. Dressed in blue jeans and an old sweatshirt, Iva was not about to perform a dance herself. She merely took up position in the chair as the ‘customer.’ April went through her gyrations before Iva, but the blonde neither joked or commented. She merely stared pointedly at the voluptuous young beauty, so adorable in her tiny bikini. When the time came for April to actually sit and perch coquettishly in Iva’s lap, it was the most mortifying experience of her young adult life!

‘It makes it difficult for me to get into a glamourous mindset,’ she explained testily to the sympathetic Mrs. Struthers, ‘when I’m dealing with a member of the school’s staff who’s obviously not supportive. I’m sure you know, Mrs. Struthers, that my family is paying a great deal for my education!’ Although the instructor knew this wasn’t true, she nevertheless assured April that she would inform Iva of April’s complaint.

With springtime came an event that left all of Mrs. Struthers’ students swooning with anticipation—the Riverdale High School Beauty Pageant and Charity Auction. This year’s judges would be Meredith Lakewon, a local TV beauty expert, and Elke Peterson, a reknowned fitness champion and star of dozens of popular exercise tapes. Mrs. Struthers showed the girls the zircone-garnished crown to be rewarded to the pageant queen. ‘One of you lucky girls will get to wear this!’ she announced.

‘The Pageant has me so excited!’ gushed Betty, a sweet young beauty who happened to be the largest girl in the class. Though perfectly proportioned, Betty often felt awkward and out of place towering over the other girls; she was especially self-conscious about her oversized chest.

‘Don’t get too excited,’ said April. ‘I’m putting you all on notice—that crown is going to be mine!’

‘Well, maybe I’ll make runner-up,’ said Betty. ‘I’ve talked to Mrs. Struthers, and she’s given me a lot of self-confidence.’

April gave her a cold look. ‘May I remind you there are over 100 girls in this show? Half of them think they’re going to win—and the other half, like you, expect to be runners up!’

‘The only thing that’s important,’ said their friend Molly, ‘is to make a good impression, and try to talk to every media person who shows up. You never know where your big break’s gonna come from!’

‘Spoken like a true teacher’s pet!’ replied April, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Molly had drawn her classmate’s ire with her offers to help Mrs. Struthers after hours.

‘Well, the only place I want my picture published,’ said Cynthia, ‘is on the back cover of my first best-seller.’ The reigning class valedictorian, Cynthia was bookish to a fault; but her striking dark-haired good looks made her a credible pageant competitor.

As the girls were talking, the Phys. Ed. and Olympic Training class let out, and a crowd of plain, no-nonsense women came pouring into the hallway. April jumped back in mock revulsion at this parade, and accidentally crossed the path of a tiny girl making an end run around the crowd. When they collided, April was knocked to the floor.

‘Why you little half pint!’ April started to say. But there was something intimidating about the other girl’s strong grip as she helped April up, and her deeply tanned face and sparkling eyes as she smiled warmly and apologized. April recognized the girl as Marcie, Betty’s friend from the ‘other side of the tracks.’

‘Hi, Marcie!’ said Betty, rushing over to her side. Friends since grade school, Betty and Marcie made a comical twosome, contrasting outrageously with each other as respectively the largest and smallest girls in school.

‘What’s that get-up you’re wearing, Marcie?’ asked Betty, laughing.

Marcie looked down at herself as if to check, then giggled. ‘This is camoulflage!’ she said. ‘They’re giving us combat training this week in P.E.O.T.’

‘Combat training!?!’

‘It’s nothing more than dodging around a bunch of potted ferns, while somebody else tries to hit you with a wiffle ball!’ explained Marcie. ‘But it gives you a good workout, and sharpens your reflexes. Well—gotta go!’ With that, she raced off.

‘Jeez, I’m still throbbing!’ declared April. ‘Marcie’s shoulders are harder than the front bumper of a Mack Truck!’

‘Marcie’s always been really strong—she works out all the time!’ said Betty. ‘I guess she does it to make up for being so little!’

Later that day, Marcie encountered Mrs. Struthers in the parking lot of the school.

‘So tommorrow’s the big day!’ said Marcie. ‘The pageant, I mean.’

‘That’s right,’ said Mrs. Struthers. ‘Same thing every year, working day and night for weeks to get ready for the big event.’

‘I’ll be in the audience this year,’ said Marcie happily.

Mrs. Struthers smiled. ‘Young lady, you’ve been planning something, and I know all about it! If it were anyone else, I don’t think I’d let them get away with it!’

Marcie laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Mrs. Struthers, I’m not going to do anything to spoil your show! Anyway, be seeing you, and good luck!’

On the evening of the pageant, the one hundred and twenty-six contestants lined up at the back of the gymnasium. Each girl, barefoot, was dressed in her Home Ec. and Beauty Fitness bikini, and there wasn’t a girl among them who wasn’t giggling with excitement.

With one exception—April. She’d been seething with anger all day, muttering to herself about ‘institutional incompetence,’ and stomping the floor with her foot. It seemed that Mrs. Struthers had decided get a late start to the morning, and had been unavailable to answer April’s questions. Now with only an hour before the show, April had no choice but to turn to the teacher’s assistant Iva.

‘This is outrageous!’ April told Iva. ‘How are we supposed to rehearse for evening gown competition when we haven’t even gotten the evening gowns yet! I refuse to go stumbling around onstage in a dress I haven’t ever worn before!’

‘Return to your place in line,’ said Iva. Then she looked down and noticed the insignia on April’s bikini. ‘No, wait... April. Come with me.’ She took April by the arm, and led the puzzled girl over to the locker room.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Struthers made her entrance, and was treated to a round of applause by the girls. She thanked them all, and then began explaining how they’d proceed.

‘Because of a screw-up, we won’t be taking buses to the auditorium. Don’t worry, we’ve arranged for other transportation, and Iva will take care of that. I hope every one of you has left your purse and your other possessions in the locker room where they can be collected later. Now remember, whatever happens, girls, keep smiling and keep your shoulders back... Well, here’s Iva, so I’ll see you at the auditorium.’

Iva unlocked the back door of the gymnasium, and led the front of the line of girls out onto the loading dock. It was a brisk spring evening, and the girls shivered in their bikinis as a chill wind swept across their naked legs.

Iva pointed at a catwalk leading up to the dark maw of the back of a large semi-trailer, and indicated that the girls climb up and move quickly to the back. The truck could hold a surprising number of young women, especially after Iva began pushing and cramming the remaining bikini-clad lovelies in one at a time. By the time she pulled down the trailer door on its tracks and locked it shut, 100 girls were packed in belly to belly and breast to breast in the pitch black truck.

Iva signaled the driver to pull out, then turned to the twenty-five girls who hadn’t been able to fit. She motioned them over to a waiting pickup truck. Standing in the bed of the truck, she took each girl in turn and laid her down on her back. When she’d covered the floor of the pickup with bikini-clad womanhood, she proceeded to lay down a second layer of the puzzled young women on top of the first. The pretty contestants were too shocked by this matter-of-fact handling to raise any objections, though some of the girls on the bottom of the pile began fretting about being crushed.

After carrying the last of the girls into the truck and laying her lengthwise over the others, Iva spread a tarp over top of the squirming lovelies and secured it with ropes. She jumped into the cab and took off, intending to catch up with the tractor-trailer before it reached the auditorium. She was blithly unconcerned about any effects bumps in the road would have on her cargo.

At the auditorium, the two trucks backed into a large enclosed garage. Before unloading, Iva shut and locked the garage door and made sure the rear exits were locked and chained. As an added precaution, she had several female security guards standing by, armed and carrying dart rifles, before she opened the door of the trailer. Iva herself was carrying a switch.

As she opened the door, the gasping young women came crowding out. Iva commanded them to proceed single file through the open door to the right. She reinforced her words by swatting some of the dawdling girls with the switch. Naked except for their bikinis, the girls hastened to obey Iva, not wanting to have their pretty legs marked.

The door opened on a long hallway, and at the end of it Mrs. Struthers stood waiting. She hustled the girls one at a time into a dark room. ‘Your ballroom gowns are in here,’ she explained. ‘I want each of you to find yours, and try them on before the pageant. Yes, I know it’s dark in there—someone’s looking for the fusebox now...’

The girls assembled in the room, crowded together almost as much as they had been in the trailer. The room was dark except for the light coming from the hall, and lights from the parking lot that shone in through the barred windows. As far as the girls could tell, the room contained no ballroom gowns.

After they’d all been herded into the room, Mrs. Struthers shut the door and locked it. The puzzled girls waited for endless minutes. Then Mrs. Struthers opened the door and extracted five of them. After this she shut and locked it again.

The remaining girls began to entertain suspicions that this beauty pageant was not what they’d expected.