The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Roofie Party

(mc, fd, mf, ff)

[Summary: Who reads consent forms, anyway?]

“A Roofie Party? Who thought that was a good idea? What would it even mean?”

“Evidently you did, since you’re here. Didn’t you read the invitation?”

“Who reads invitations?”

“Or the three different consent forms you had to sign to come here?”

“Who reads consent forms? Seriously, what’s the deal?”

Greg sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. The deal is that it’s a party, like any other of Becca’s parties—good music, good food, good company, good times—except that at some point during the evening, somehow—people have different theories as to how, and she won’t tell us—”

“—I figure it’s got to be chloroform,” Daniel put in.

“… yeah, and hypnosis is another going theory; or, of course, roofies—ANYway, at some point you’ll notice that one of these video screens is showing you, sleepy or mostly unconscious but compliant and obviously having a good time while Becca has her way with you. You won’t remember it happening—so far none of us have even recognized the room that it happens in, it’s not regular party space—and you won’t know when it happened. You’ll just know that whenever she wants to, completely at her whim and under her control, she can have her way with you. And make you like it.“

“Wow.” Brad looked back and forth between the faces of his friends. “Seriously? You guys are serious about this?”

“Completely serious,” said Greg.

“Here, take a look,” said Daniel, pointing to the nearest video screen. Several people were already gathered around it, watching; including a young woman whose face appeared, eyes closed and features slack, in the video, lying on a bed. Becca was kneeling on the bed above her, and as the crowd watched, Becca deftly slipped off the young woman’s panties. “I’ll just keep these,” she said, hanging them on a hook above the bed that already carried several such trophies.

“Oh my god,” the woman watching the video said, seeing this. She had a hand pressed against the crotch of her mini-skirt, having clearly just confirmed that her underwear was still missing. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, but she was still watching.

On screen, Becca was whispering in the woman’s ear, and the woman was slowly nodding her head, eyes still closed. After a few minutes, she licked her lips.

Slowly, her lips parted, and her tongue came out, moving in a halting, uncoordinated fashion, as if she was licking something in a dream but her body hadn’t quite caught up. Then Becca sat up, lifted her leg over—incidentally flashing the camera, so that it was clear that she wasn’t wearing anything under her short tight skirt—and straddled the woman’s face.

She was kneeling in reverse, facing the camera so that the crowd could see her possessive, knowing look at them; could watch every sensation as it passed across her expression after she closed her eyes in pleasure. As the half-unconscious woman obediently licked her cunt.

The woman’s face was quite red now. But she was still watching. Someone next to her asked her a question and she nodded, eyes riveted on the screen.

Brad took a step back, and went to look for a drink.

Following Becca’s usual party layout, the drinks were not in the kitchen—maybe to avoid having everyone bunch up there—but instead a selection of alcohol and mixers, along with cups and ice, was spread out on tables in two different rooms. Of course each room had its own video screen. As far as he could tell, every room at the party had a video screen, all showing the same scenes. He shook his head, and sorted through the drink options.

“Are you sure it isn’t drugged?” came a teasing voice from behind him, as Brad poured himself a screwdriver. He turned to see another young woman he didn’t know, although he was sure he’d seen her face before. Probably at another of Becca’s parties. Her parties had quite a wild reputation, although this was another level altogether.

“I hear there’s no way to tell!” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m Brad.” He offered her his hand.

“Carey. Nice to meet you, Brad. Have you made a special guest appearance yet?” Her eyes were dancing.

“No… not that I know of, I mean. This is definitely gonna teach me to read invitations more carefully, though.”

“Oh my god. You didn’t know? Didn’t you read the consent forms?“

“Again with the consent forms! Like anybody reads those.”

She just looked at him, eyes laughing, shaking her head slowly.

Brad sighed, closed his eyes, and downed his drink in one gulp. “Maybe a couple of drinks in I’ll feel less like an ass. Actually, do you know—” he turned, opening his eyes… and found himself face to face with Becca.

“Hi Brad,” Becca smiled.

“Um… hi,” Brad managed.

“Got something to ask me?”

“I… actually, yes. Which way is your bathroom?”

Becca laughed. “I’ll show you,” she said, taking his arm. “It’s just down this hallway.” She started to lead him off.

“While I’ve got you,” Becca said when they turned into a quiet hallway after a little bit of maneuvering through the crowd, “rumor has it that you were a naughty boy and didn’t read all the consent forms you signed.”

“Does anybody really read those?” Brad asked distractedly, starting to feel the effects of the drink he’d gulped down so quickly as well as the need for the restroom she was leading him to.

“Yes, Brad, they do.” Becca stopped him in the hallway, and looked him in the eyes. “You do realize this means I can do anything I want to you, right? You didn’t even read what you consented to.”

Brad blinked. She looked like she was joking, but there was something disturbingly intent about her tone of voice. “I guess you can…” he admitted.

“Say it,” she said.

“What?”

“Tell me,” Becca said firmly, still looking him in the eyes.

He searched her face, but found no excuses there. “Um…” He took a breath. “You can do anything you want to me.”

“Good boy,” Becca said. Then she smiled warmly. For some reason, seeing that smile, he suddenly felt it; like he would be completely okay with her doing anything she wanted to with him. As long as it made her smile like that.

“And here’s the bathroom,” Becca continued, turning him to the side and pointing him at a door. The paneling in this part of the house was different than where they’d been a moment ago, and the sounds of the party were quieter; nobody was in the bathroom. Brad stepped inside and closed the door.

Something about Becca’s smile. His head was still swimming with it. Brad took a moment to splash water on his face, and take a look at himself in the mirror.

He looked way drunker than one drink should have made him. Maybe he needed to take a cab home. But he was pretty sure that he was in over his head with this party. Asking for a bathroom had mostly been an excuse to take a break and reassess, and he decided that yes, he probably should leave before he came up next on Becca’s list and fell into her clutches for serious.

Though, really, letting her have her way with him might be worth it, even if he didn’t remember it afterwards. That smile…

Brad sighed, and splashed his face with more cold water, then pulled his pants down and sat on the toilet. Ducking in here had been mostly an excuse, but in fact now he really needed to pee.

A few minutes later, cleaned up and feeling slightly more presentable, Brad came out of the bathroom and followed the sounds of music and laughter back to the main part of the party.

The first people he ran into were Greg, Daniel, and Carey. “Hey guys. I think I’m going to head home early; this whole idea is a little too crazy for me, and I’m just going to put it down as a lesson in reading what I sign up for.”

“Uh huh,” said Carey, laughing. “Are you sure about that?” Greg and Daniel exchanged knowing looks.

“Um… yes?” Brad said.

Carey crooked a finger at him, and turned and started walking into the next room.

“What…?” Brad asked, looking to Greg and Daniel for help. They both urged him to follow Carey’s retreating back, so he hastened after her.

She led him into a small otherwise-unoccupied den with a couch and another of the ubiquitous video screens, this one a large-screen TV.

On the screen was Brad. Naked.

Becca, also naked, was straddling him, kneeling, sliding her slippery wet pussy along the length of his hard cock pressed against his belly, teasing him without actually taking him inside her. His eyes were closed, but his hips were grinding hard up against her.

“Tell me,” said Becca on the screen, firmly.

“Um…” Brad on the screen mumbled. “You can do anything you want to me.”

“Again.” Her hips sped up, and his lower body visibly tensed underneath her.

“You can do anything you want to me.”

“Again…”

“You can do anything you want to me ohhh god ohhhh!”

On screen, Becca pulled back and put her hand on his cock, stroking quickly until Brad came, all over his belly and chest. Then, still holding his slowly-spurting cock in her hand, she turned and looked into the camera. Right at him.

Carey put her arms around him from behind, and guided one of Brad’s hands up under his shirt, where he felt that his belly was still a little bit sticky with semen. Then she guided his hand down inside his jeans, where he could feel that his underwear was gone. Some part of his mind noted that it was still visible on the screen, on the hook where Becca kept her trophies.

His cock was slick and wet, and stiffening under his hand. Carey moved his hand up and down a little on the shaft. Then she took him by the other elbow and turned him around.

Holding his eyes, Carey backed up to the couch and sat down on the corner of it, legs spread. She pulled her skirt up until he could see that she’d had a turn in Becca’s secret room already also.

“See anything you’d like to do?” Carey asked.