The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Three months later

Abbie had kicked me out of the house for the day to get things setup, and as the only one in our circle not involved in the plan, Taylor had been given the job of babysitting me for the afternoon.

Since sex wasn’t on the menu, that meant a date at the mall, buying her a half dozen outfits she modeled for me, all of them small enough to fit inside the same bag, then forcing her to sit through a movie with me.

“God, Canon. You ever think of working out more? That movie might have been cringe, but Hemsworth’s ass was worth the price of admission.”

“You made sure I get plenty of exercise as it is,” I shot back.

“Uh huh.” She reached over and grabbed my stomach, giving it a squeeze. “You’re only working out one muscle most of the time, and letting your bitches do all the work, I bet.”

“Just trying to maintain my dad bod.” I sighed. I knew it would sound lame before I even said it. “Yeah, some time at the gym wouldn’t hurt.”

“Don’t worry. I can be your personal trainer. Make sure you’re working up a sweat.” He hand went to the bulge in my pants and started massaging me like she was trying to make me cum right there on the road. And since I’d been abstaining since yesterday, that was a serious possibility.

Lucky me, we were already back in my gated neighborhood, and the sight of my ten-bedroom McMansion was anxiety-inducing enough that not even Taylor Stern was going to be able to jerk me off.

The fact that Abbie was using my house for this was a relief. Privacy was almost certainly guaranteed. Things had little room to go wrong. Isa had told me that whatever it was, it wasn’t a risk to my safety or freedom, or at least not anymore than the small empire of teenage sex slaves was.

Still though… I didn’t know what I had told Abbie while under serenex, but I had an inkling of the taboo ideas that would run through my head at times, and pussy or not, I was worried.

“I just hope she hasn’t gone too far this time.” I mused as we got out of the Tesla.

“Chill. This is Abbie we’re talking about. She might talk a big game, but deep down she’s a sweetheart. Sickeningly so.” Taylor said as she got out and stretched her arms up over her head, lifting the cut-off tank top lift in a rather eye-catching manner. She’d gotten a golden tan for the summer, and it made the toned look of her stomach even hotter, somehow.

“It’s not Abbie I’m worried about. It’s me. Look at what I did with my inhibitions given just the slightest bit of free rein. And now she’s fishing for my deepest, darkest desires? Something I don’t have already? I’m just worried she’s going to turn me into more of a monster than I already am.”

“Chill!” Taylor slapped me on the back, hard enough to make it sting even through the shirt I was wearing. “ If things get too crazy, well, don’t forget. I’m still her boss, and your still my bitch.”

I resisted the urge to try and reach back and rub the stinging handprint on my back. “You never gave me that kind of command.”

She flashed a smile at me. “Didn’t need to.”

I laughed, mood lightening enough to get through the front door.

“We’re back!” I called out as we entered the foyer. “Hello?” I raised my voice. The size of the house was convenient, even if I technically still lived alone, but sometimes it was like having to navigate a maze to find people.

“They’re downstairs, goober,” Taylor said, showing me the text message on her phone.

“Downstairs, huh? Want to bet she’s transformed the whole thing into some kind of bdsm dungeon?”

“For a vanilla dude like you?” Taylor snorted. “Doubt. You think spanking is as kinky as things get.”

As it turned out, I was half-right.

The basement had been mostly empty this morning. It was where the laundry machines were, plus an extra kitchenette, bathroom, and two spare bedrooms for some reason. But now it was transformed into a full-fledged Man Cave. Fluffy grey shag carpet. A tv mounted on the wall that was taller than I was, complete with what I assumed was every console of the past twenty years. A row of three arcade and one pinball machines against the wall, with a foosball on another. Movie posters on the wall. Comfortable, cozy furniture made for fucking, three mostly empty (from where I was standing, it only looked like a dozen or so, and all of them were so tall and then I figured they had to be full of pictures) bookshelves against the walls, and a large L-shaped couch in the corner with a glass coffee table at the center.

“Ta-dah!” Abbie jumped out from behind one of the armchairs, arms thrown up in the air, one of the most precious smiles I’d ever seen on a Stern plastered across her face. “Not bad, right?”

Abbie herself was dressed up like… well, like a stage magician crossed with a dominatrix. Black latex panties with matching stockings held up by a leather garter belt. A black leather corset with too much metal that only squeezed her waist and left her chest completely unsupported, along with a black and purple cloak with a night-sky pattern that flashed her chest with every little move she made, topped off with a wizard hat that would look more appropriate on Mickey Mouse than this sex bomb.

“It… it’s something alright.” I wandered around the large room, trying to take it in. From the healthy sheen of sweat on Abbie’s skin, I could tell that she had worked hard on this, even if she’d had plenty of help no doubt. I didn’t want to be mean. But…

“Pac-Man? Donkey Kong? Abbie… Miss Pacman?”

“Yeah. You know, just like the arcade you had when you were a kid!”

“I’m only nine years older than you. When I was ten, I was playing Metal Gear Solid 2 and Dead or Alive.”

Abbie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, they didn’t have those cabinets.”

“They were on the PS2, they weren’t… hold on.” I took a closer look at the movie posters she had framed up on the wall.

At a glance, I’d thought these were normal posters. But no. That classic Rambo movie poster, with a shirtless Stallone posing with an explosion in the background and a rocket launcher in the foreground? That was a shirtless Stephanie Louisa Barbour-Salata holding a plastic prop. The Dr. No poster was inspired, with my face photoshopped onto a tuxedo’s James Bond while Abbie and three girls whose names escaped me posed off to the side. The Star Wars episode IV poster… well, it got an A for effort. She definitely was taking full advantage of the graphic design students.

“Okay. These are pretty good. Only three though?”

Abbie shrugged. “There’s more on the school’s server somewhere. Can check those out later.”

Say what you would about Abbie, she did nothing half-assed. Speaking of, what was up with her outfit?

“So what’s with the outfit? My sex fantasy is for… a stage magician? Oh. Let me guess. Stage hypnotist?”

“C-dawg… Canon… Barney…” Abbie put her face into her palm. “Don’t be so dense. I’m a Dungeon Mistress. Get it?”

I looked back to Taylor, who was holding back her laughter with one hand and recording Abbie on her phone with the other. “So it is a BDSM thing?”

“Dungeon Mistress, you… like a Dungeon Master, but hot! Dungeons and Dragons!” She dashed back behind the armchair, grabbed a rattling box full of dice, a tri-fold screen, and a blank grid playmat. “We’re gonna play Dee En Dee!”

“Uh…”

“Pffffahaha!” Taylor couldn’t hold back any longer. “How about that, C-Dawg? Turns out the thing you were scared of most of all… was being a nerd! But gawd, no need to go through all of this. I could have told you what a massive dork you were ages ago!”

A few minutes later, I was in the middle of the giant L-shaped couch, a Stern on either side of me. Abbie had handed us both some printouts explaining the basics of the rules.

“This is way too organized and easy to read. Tabitha helped you with this, didn’t she?” I asked as I flipped through the pages.

“Oh right.” She went to the counter of the kitchenette and snatched up a red pen, then handed it over to me. “She wants a grade on the report.”

“Of course she does.” I took the pen and started adding nice, big red check marks after each paragraph as I read through them. “These anime drawings are adorable in how crappy they are. Cassie, right?”

“...okay, one. Anime is when it’s a cartoon. If it’s a drawing, it’d be manga. And two, fuck you, I’ve got a style, alright? It’s an aesthetic choice.”

“My mistake, my mistake.” I kept reading through. There wasn’t too much to digest. The rules weren’t very complicated, especially since Abbie was taking care of character creation for us. Tabletop RPG. We pretended to be fantasy heroes with supernatural abilities, and whenever we wanted to do something, we rolled the dice. High numbers were better than low numbers. “You know, I played a campaign or two back in college. Why don’t we use those rules instead?”

“Because that game was made for nerds. This? This is a game for studs and hot chicks that fuck,” Abbie insisted.

“I don’t see a difference?”

“Then shut up, shut up, shut up?”

Meanwhile, Taylor had already finished reading, and had snatched up the player sheets left on the table. “Okay, this is lame as all hell already, but Abbie, why the hell am I level one while Canon is level twenty?”

“Like herding cats…” Abbie muttered. “Look. See this?” She opened up her cloak, grabbed her chest, and shook them up and down for us both. “We’re not playing dumb ’ol pimply nerd games. We’re two fantasy sluts indulging our Master in some fucking hot dungeons and dragons roleplay. And you being an illiterate hothead he can twist around his finger is hot to him.”

“Heh. Illiterate.” I had to admit, it was amusing if nothing else.

“Screw that. I’ll be the wizard then. Canon is more of the dumb brute anyhow, right? Man only knows how to think with his cock, and we’re the ones always doing the real work.”

“Well, gee, sis, you’re the boss. I guess you’re going to be playing the wizard tonight.” Abbie turned towards me and winked. “Wink-wink.”

“Is this some kind of reverse psychology, sis?” Taylor asked.

“Not at all. Hey, C-dawg. C’mere a minute. Something I wanna show you.”

Curious, I followed Abbie towards the stairs, and once Taylor was out of sight, like a magician, Abbie pulled out a small, suspiciously warm booklet, the front of which proclaimed Canon’s Big Book of Spells along with a carved and polished wooden wand she must have gotten from Etsy.

“What’s all this about?”

“Well, remember how when we met, you were trying super hard to rape my sister?”

“Do you have to use the R-word?” I groaned.

“Drugged, brainwashed, and enslaved? Whatever. It all worked out in the end. We’re both lucky to have you.” Two years on and serenex commands seemed as strong as ever. “We’re also both your fantasy sluts, but I’m the only one putting in any work most of the time. And yeah, you’re whipped enough to enjoy the crumbs she doles out, but deep down, you want a little more fun, right?”

I swallowed. The pit was back in my stomach. “Did you serenex your sister? How? I thought she was your boss?”

“She is. Believe me, I’ve tried quitting a thousand times by now, but there’s no changing that. But lucky us, she turned us both into your fantasy sluts before that, so that’s got, like, legal precedent and shit.” Abbie laughed. “Guess this is all super illegal still, but whatever.”

.”So you put her under, and… what?”

Abbie flipped the wand in her hand, handed the broad end towards me, then held up a finger. “When Canon points the wand at me, I fail my will save.”

She held up a second finger. “Magic spells always wear off at midnight. Some nice idiot-proofing there, right?”

Abbie formed a circle with her thumb and forefinger, throwing out the other three fingers. “And three, I had her read up on every single spell in that.” She thumped her fingers against the booklet. “Not bad, right?”

“Abbie, I fucking love you.”

She tolerated the kiss and groping for a few seconds before pushing me off. “Come on. None of that lovey-dovey shit. Tonight, we’re your fantasy sluts. And hey.” She grabbed the booklet, flipped to the middle, and showed me a spell labeled Suggestion, the left page taken up with another of her crude illustrations, though this one was trying to be sexy, with breasts twice the size of the girl’s head and big spirals in her eyes. “You’re about to see just what fantasy slutwear is all about!”

“You come across a small village, its walls made of vertical logs and the road leading to the gate well worn dirt. It’s still the early afternoon, so there is a caravan ahead of you, stopped by the guards as they inspect the goods. There is rising black smoke wafting up from the center of the village, and as the merchants ahead of you proceed into the village, you can see a worn and haggard look on their faces. As they spot you, they keep the butt of their spears planted on the ground, but bark out harshly. ‘Halt, who goes there! State your business, outsider, or—”

“God, why are you like this?” Taylor interrupted, leaning back into the couch and letting the back of her head bump against the wall. Bump. Bump. “C-dawg, can we forget this and head upstairs? I mean, fuckin’ look at me. You really want to waste this sitting on your ass?”

Taylor waved her hands and presented herself for appreciation. And hot damn, did I appreciate her.

Taylor’s sheet had her listed down as a level 1 human barbarian, but the only appropriate attire she was wearing was the knee-high furry boots. Around her waist was a tight black leather belt, and dangling down the front and back of that was curtains made out of fine metal links, but not so fine that I couldn’t see right through them when I was close enough, and even if they dangled down her thighs, they were only four inches wide. Next came the second belt. Large than the first, though just as narrow, it was wrapped around her breasts, pulling them taut and high on her chest, a brass ring perched right in the center to give a view of the cleavage, the edges of her light pink areola poking out the top.

And that wasn’t even the best part!

Around her throat was a third leather belt. Well, collar, technically, but it was the same make and design as the first two. It was fastened in the front, and there was an iron-shaped padlock dangling from the front, the key to which I had in my pocket.

Last but not least, the cherry on top was her hair. Taylor had long, naturally blonde hair that she’d let grow down to her shoulders. She generally left it untamed, letting the natural curly waves and silky sheen shine through. Goddesses didn’t put their hair up, she’d told me once. But for tonight, she had her hair up in pigtails for me. Two big, fluffy pigtails that was just begging to be grabbed.

All together, it was an absolutely ridiculous outfit. Far more outrageous that the French maid outfit I’d gotten her for Halloween, the one she’d started a gasoline fire on my lawn to burn. Taylor might be my lover, but she’d always viewed herself as the ‘first among equals’ of our partnership, and these days, she wouldn’t even squeeze into those slutty schoolgirl uniforms for some classroom roleplay.

But point the wand at her, say ‘Suggestion’, and all of a sudden wearing the barbarian ‘armor’ sounded like a great idea to her.

I managed to tear my eyes off of her long enough to add, “She makes a compelling argument, Abbie. This is already plenty hot, and the nerd stuff isn’t really—”

Rrrrip!

Abbie tore out the page of the book she’d been reading from, crumpled it up into a ball, then tossed it right at my face, bouncing it off my cheek. “Swear to god. Taylor writes one C+ essay and you pin it up on the fridge with a gold star, but got no patience for some real literary genius here.”

“Well, with fantasy adventures, I think it’s better to start in medias res, leave a few questions unanswered for the reader while the action is going down, not bog them down in exposition.” I did feel a little bad spoiling Abbie’s fun, but Taylor was better-than-naked next to me and I had a book of ‘magic spells’ burning a hole in my pocket. “But if you really want me to give an honest opinion, you could have shared the draft first. Tomorrow, after—”

“Fine!” Abbie stood up, threw her cloak off with a flashy flourish, then jumped right into my lap, grabbing two fistfuls of my hair and shoving my head into the endless valley of her cleavage. “I’ll rez your meat! The slutty tavernkeeper demurely crawls into your lap, pulling down the front of her dress to give you a full view of her big, milky chest. It’s incredible how a woman of her age could have such amazing, perky tits. Right?”

Abbie heft her left tit in her palm, started trying to smother my face with it. “You can’t help but think that wow, these tits are way better than those of your slutty barbarian bimbo.”

“Fuck you. Any day now those are going to start sagging like a sock full of batteries.” Taylor spat back.

“You wish. Now! As the tavernkeeper straddles your lap, she—ow! Watch the teeth, Canon! And hey. Eyes up here. Pay attention.”

Hands gripping her too-soft bubble butt, I eased up on biting her nipple. “Mmph?”

“Please, oh noble…bleh.” Abbie cleared her throat, tried again, this time pitching her voice lower, putting on a false sense of cheeriness. “Oh, please pretty please, noble wizard. All I can offer you are my three slutty holes, but if you rescue my daughter from the dragon, I’d give you 24/7 access to them all until you throw my worthless ass on the streets. Please?”

“Nice Brown impression,” Taylor said from the side, and as soon as she did, it made perfect sense. If Abbie was going to impersonate a slutty milf, there was a great template to steal from.

“Stay in character,” Abbie snapped, her voice taking on all the rough edges it normally did, but that overly sweet smile was back when she turned back to me. “Please, sir… save my daughter, and I’ll gladly use these big, slutty titties to jerk your cock off all night long.”

“Fuck yeah. Let’s do that.” I started reached for my fly, but Abbie slapped my hand away.

“Ah, ah. Save my daughter, and then you get your reward. Setup and payoff, right? Gotta go on that Hero’s Journey, right, Mr. Canon?”

I only ever had Abbie in two of my classes, both in her senior year. The first was as you’d expected, every day spent with thirty girls figuring out how to make sure I loved my job every day. The second was English, and she’d gotten a 97%, taking on the honors student slut role with Tabitha away at college. And ever since then, there was nothing she loved doing more than throwing my own words right back at me any chance she had.

“Fine.”

“Wow, such a dramatic sigh.” It wasn’t that dramatic, really. Perfectly appropriate sigh. “Relax, C-dawg.” Abbie slid out of my lap, then bent over at the waist to pick her cloak back up, shaking her naked ass at me for a few seconds before straightening up. “You’re gonna fuckin’ love this next part.”

“Bet he’d love fucking the shit out of me even more.” Taylor couldn’t keep the bitchiness out of her voice if she tried, and she was making zero attempts.

“Bet.”

Abbie was going to win that bet. But first, she was going to give me a goddamn heart attack.