The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kevin Cusker was pissed. And when the president of the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity was pissed, someone paid for it.

“Faster, bitch—” and he slapped her ass, hard, “or I’m going to send you off to service the hobos at the soup kitchen tonight. I remember how much you enjoyed it last time.”

Patricia Temple—Trish to her friends—Darnell Mountain Lions cheerleader and until recently strictly religious and saving herself for marriage, moaned loudly and picked up speed on top of Kevin’s reclining body. She was straddling him, holding his cock inside her and shifting her hips back and forth, rubbing the hard shaft from inside, massaging it rhythmically with her inner muscles. Her thin silk slip, midnight black to contrast with her pale skin and blonde hair, clung to her body like a second skin, and did nothing to prevent her large breasts from swaying enticingly underneath the thin material, itself already soaked from the drool that had leaked out during the earlier prolonged deep-throating session Kevin had subjected her to. That he had already come down her throat not half an hour earlier ensured that it would take a while for her to bring him off again. And Kevin enjoyed making her work for it.

He looked into her eyes, saw the fear that he had known would be lurking there. Trish was the one girl programmed for the frat that was fully aware she was being controlled and could do nothing to prevent it, and Kevin liked it—liked it a lot, as a matter of fact. The thought of it made him hard every single time. And now seeing the fear in her eyes was satisfying, because he was angry, and little felt as good as venting one’s anger on a powerless victim.

He reached up and pulled down the blonde’s slip, ripping the thin shoulder straps and baring a glorious pair of breasts that he went on to grope and squeeze. Trish groaned, but never missed a beat on her back and forth on his lap. “Oh! Squeeze my titties, Mister President—my big slutty titties—make them hurt!”

He loved to make her talk dirty. It was worse than the sex—talking implied volition, and could not be passive. It was more human, more cerebral, more tied to one’s identity as a person. He made her beg for it, often, and relished how demeaning she must have felt it was.

And he had to take these moments of pleasure when they presented themselves, because everything was in free fall lately, and he had no clue how to regain even a semblance of control. And it was all that Duquesne girl’s fault, that was clear. That stupid Duquesne girl. Cute, for sure, and a good fuck, but not worth a fraction of the trouble she had caused. The doctor had wanted a subject for an experiment in long-term programming he was conducting, and Kevin had let the fraternity convince him that they could take advantage of this opportunity, despite his gut feeling that it was a mistake.

But he did not protest—not too hard, at least, playing the political game. And when the fraternity thought it would be cool to essentially pimp the Duquesne girl out for favors and influence, he went along with it. Even the doctor got nervous at that direction. And, indeed, look what it did. Her reporter friend got it in her silly little head to investigate the odd behavior and disappearances of her friend, recruiting a bunch of meddling kids too. Which led to the fiasco at the NADA party where those stupid NADA bigots got it in their own heads to torture one of those kids looking for the Duquesne girl.

NADA, which had been a reliable source of money in exchange for various services, messed up big time. And they were sacrificed during the big clean up that ensued at Christmas—the reporter was snatched and programmed, NADA was purged and its directors sacrificed for the good of the cause, and the Duquesne girl, well, she did not really survive the experimental procedure implanting the programming that was meant to allow her to remain triggered for days at a time. Her brain fried, and she was now fucking perverts with a quasi-necrophiliac fetish in some godforsaken dump in Asia. A nice and clean solution to everyone’s troubles, right?

“Come on, bitch—shake ’em some. This is not a meditation gig. You’re here to bring me off.” He slapped Trish’s right breast, sending the twin globes wobbling pleasantly, and she immediately started swinging her chest to make them dance.

“That’s right, Mister President, slap me around! You know I love it when you rough me up! I am your little slutty bitch, gonna milk you dry all night.”

A nice and clean solution! Ah! What a fucking joke! The good doctor had been freaked out by the extent of what the reporter had uncovered and went into hiding, afraid that if a two-bit college paper snoop could find him then so could his former employers, of which he was terrified. With the doctor gone, there could be no more programming, and no new girls could be added to the frat’s stable. His frat brothers—those entitled spoiled bastards—had started to clamor for some fresh blood and were getting restless and arguing for something to be done about it. Bunch of ungrateful cunts.

He slapped Trish’s breasts again, harder. “Get off me, and suck my cock, you stupid bitch. And then you get your ass back on top, turned the other way around. I wanna look at your ass when you fuck me.”

“Fuck yeah—whatever you say, Mister President. Are you going to fuck my ass later?” She said as though it was something fun that she was looking forward to. Kevin knew better. He probably would fuck her ass at that, but the threat worked much more effectively when it was looming over the blonde girl. Meanwhile, Trish pulled herself off from him and knelt by his side before taking his stiff cock in her mouth, moaning pleasantly. Her oral skills were excellent, and he loved the way she ran her tongue across the head of his cock when he was deep in her mouth. He reached around and pushed two fingers into her dripping pussy, eliciting a groan of pleasure from the blonde cheerleader that reverberated down to his balls.

Bernie presumably could have helped programming girls once the doctor disappeared, proving that he had had the ability to do so when he helped Biff get a girl for himself—against orders, against procedure, against everything. But then Bernie got killed. He was bled to death in the frat house, for God’s sake, and no one saw or heard anything. It had shaken him something awful, finding the body like that, tied up, tortured, drained. And there had been no explanations, no demands, no threats. Bernie had been killed by persons unknown for reasons unknown. Nils, indispensable Nils, had gotten rid of the body, and together they had concocted a story to explain his absence so as not to involve the police, but Bernie was a sword of Damocles over Kevin’s head, partly because he did not know how to fit his death in the bigger picture.

“Deeper, you bitch!” He grabbed Trish’s head and pushed it down as he thrust his hips upward, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth. She obediently tried to open up her throat, but her position was not ideal. Kevin did not care. He pushed through the resistance he felt in the back of her throat, pressing and twisting her head, thrusting with his hips, until the head of his cock sank down into her gullet, and Trish choked hard, snot flying out of her nose as she tried to clear her airways, and still the valiant girl tried to please him, massaging his cock with her throat as much as she could, despite the discomfort she must have felt. Fuck that feels good, Kevin thought, savoring the experience.

Biff. His idiot cousin, troublemaker, fucking child. That Bernie had helped Biff get a girl was bad enough. That the girl had a fiancé was an added headache. That the fiancé in question just happened to be a friend of the reporter that had investigated the Duquesne girl’s disappearance was enough to give anyone an ulcer. That Biff had indulged his stupid fetish of taunting and goading that fiancé with emails and videos of the girl getting fucked forty ways from Sunday, well... Kevin had no word for how incredibly imbecilic that was. It took some work, but before the big idiot could cause too much damage, Kevin had Biff’s emails to the fiancé blocked, and then Biff himself had been shipped off to the Caribbean to chill out the rest of the semester with his newest fuck toy.

He grabbed a handful of Trish’s hair and pulled her head back, taking the girl by surprise. “Enough. If I wanted to come down your fuckin’ throat then I’d flip you over and fuck it good. Get on top and ride me, you stupid bitch.”

“Of course, Mister President,” purred Trish, “whatever you want. I want to feel your cock deep in my cunt again.”

She straddled his lap, facing his feet, and he had a perfect view of her ass, right there, in front of his face. He slapped one of her cheeks, hard, making her yelp. He enjoyed how her flesh jiggled—a pleasant surprise given the hard tone of her cheerleader’s body—and the way her skin immediately turned bright red. As she lined herself over his cock, getting ready to sink down upon it once more, he slapped her ass again, earning another yelp. “Faster, you slow bitch! Get the fuck down—on—my—cock!” He grabbed her hips and pulled her down roughly, and she impaled herself on the hard shaft with a scream as she bottomed out, her ass pressing against his stomach. Her cunt had a flaming grip on his cock.

And now DIK-Bash was almost upon them, the most important event of the year, a multi-day affair that saw important alumni and friends converging to the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity house, and President Calhoun had made it very clear that it was to go smoothly, and that the alumni—which were exceedingly important to the University—had to be catered to like royalty. And as if that was not enough to ruin his sleep, he had heard reports that Biff was back in town, that he had put on some sort of show at the local strip club with his fuck toy and another girl, a move that was sure to bring unwanted attention to the fraternity on the eve of DIK-Bash.

Family! Who the fuck needs enemies when he’s got family? And the kids all rumble because they want new cunts to fuck—whine, whine, whine! Fuck them! What do they know anyway? What does Biff know anyway? Fuck them! Fuck them all, dammit!

On his lap, Trish was dancing up and down, smearing his cock with her juices as she squeezed it as hard as she could while doing her best to hump him to his satisfaction. He slapped her ass again, enjoying the sound. “Fuck, you’re worthless as a whore, you know that? I’ve seen nuns fuck better than you do, you stupid cunt. You’re lucky those hobos aren’t gonna be too picky about the holes they fuck.” There was no point coddling the little blonde tease. He loved that he was not only making her fuck him against her will and against her beliefs, but also making her feel contemptible for not knowing how to please him, or any man for that matter.

As he watched her tight ass bounce over him, he thought back to all the times he told her to act as if she did not want to be with him but had no choice because otherwise he would hurt her, or worse. He loved to hear her beg him to stop, to let her go, let her free. After making her act like a complete slut even though he knew it mortified her, it was his favorite play-acting fantasy. And it always kindled his longing to get her to fuck him not because he was controlling her to do so, but because she chose to do so, of her own free will. And he knew it would not be hard, either. All it would take is a few videos of her slutting around with other guys, perhaps servicing three of them at a time, one in each hole, egging them on to fuck her harder and make her come, doing all sorts of filthy disgusting things, videos he could then show her and which he could threaten to send to her parents, to her minister, to everyone she respected, maybe even start an online site with her own porn movies, and then she would have no choice but to submit to him and do whatever he wanted. It was stupid, of course, and he would never do it, but everyone seemed to be jonesing for whatever it was they wanted these days, so why not him too?

Trish shifted her hips, and the new angle of penetration exerted a wonderful pressure all through his cock and down to his groin, and he closed his eyes to revel in the sensations. Trish, letting out little moans, pumped up and down, her ass bouncing enticingly.

“Fuck yeah!” groaned Kevin. “I’ve got some big plans for you, my little bitch. Let me take care of a couple of problems here at home, and then we’ll take care of you right. You’ll see, when I’m done with you, you’ll be fucking me like you are now, but it’ll be because you agree to it—you’ll choose to do the most debased things, the most perverted, sick, twisted things, and I won’t even have to control you to do them—you’ll want to please me. You’ll see, you little bitch, you sweet little teasing bitch...”

Just the thought of what he could make her do was driving him nuts—between the stress and the fear, his emotions were all over the place. He grasped her hips and used them as leverage to push into her hard and fast, and Trish groaned with pleasure.

“Oh just like that, Mister President! Fuck me hard!”

The beeping of his cell phone jerked him out of the contemplation of Trish’s ass tensing with every thrust. He caught himself on the edge of screaming at his phone. He grabbed the ringing gadget from his nightstand, and sighed when he saw the caller. He connected, taking a second to slap Trish on the ass. “Don’t you dare stop, you bitch!” Then, to the phone. “Nils, I sure hope this is important...”

“It is. There’s been a breach.”

“A what?”

“A breach. Our internal network. We’ve been hacked.”

“Fuck, Mister President—I can feel you so deep inside! You fill me up so well, stud!” Trish was oblivious to Kevin’s sudden distraction

“Hacked? You’re fuckin’ kidding me, right? That’s just fuckin’ great. Hold on—” He slapped Trish once more. “Get off, bitch.”

Trish scrambled off Kevin’s lap, his cock snapping out of her pussy with a wet plop. She turned to look at Kevin, a look of hunger on her face. “Are we going to play confession now?” Kevin had told her what the plan had been for their session, and she was playing it straight. “I’ve got a lot to atone for. ‘Father, forgive me for I have sinned—over and over again—with my filthy mouth and my deep cunt and my tight ass’...”

Kevin groaned. “Not now. Here—” he tossed her a huge ebony rubber cock. “Go sit in that corner and stuff this up your ass and get it ready for me.”

Trish grinned, though her eyes told a different story. “If that’s the punishment I need, Father, I will do it. My sinning ass will pay for its transgressions.” She scrambled on all four to get off the bed and sit in the corner that Kevin had indicated, and immediately started lubing up the black dildo with her mouth.

Kevin sat up in bed. “Okay. Talk to me.”

“I took a look at the logs like you asked me to this morning to double-check that the blocks that Bernie had put in on Biff’s emails were still working, and I noticed a few weird entries. I’ve talked to a friend in CS, and after looking around the system a bit deeper, his best guess is that we’ve been breached.”

“When?”

“Sometimes yesterday. The first items logged were from around 14:30—sorry, 2:30 PM. The logs are not even part of the security setup—the intruder was good, and didn’t trip any of the alarms. But they ventured into a part of the network that Bernie had quarantined almost a year ago, and that was flagged.”

In the corner of the room, Trish was thrusting the dildo deep in her mouth, an impressive result since the contraption was almost as thick as her wrist and the length of her forearm. Her legs were spread, and Kevin could not help admire her cheerleader’s body, and the way her pussy lips parted because of her position. She saw him look at her, and redoubled her efforts, sucking noisily.

“Dammit. You sure it’s not just some random brother that just stumbled upon the quarantined network by accident?”

“Unlikely. There is no way to reach the quarantined subnetwork except through back doors. And once we figured something was up, it was not so difficult to find other evidence that someone was on the system. No, someone’s been accessing our records for at least the last twenty-four hours.”

“All the records?”

“Pretty much, as far as we can tell. The bad news is that they seemed to have narrowed down to the stuff that relates to... well... our girls. There’s a bunch of docs from the doctor, backups from his files, our internal records. It’s all encrypted, but still.”

In the corner of the room, Trish had pulled the dildo out of her mouth and was still sitting with her legs spread, but her pelvis was tilted upwards and she was slowly pushing the large black rubber shaft into her ass. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open, deep in concentration. Her legs were shaking slightly, her feet pointed down. Her breathing caused the rise and fall of her breasts, an almost hypnotic rhythm that entranced Kevin. He sighed, turned his attention back to Nils.

“What else did they get?”

“Emails.”

“Also encrypted, I hope?”

“Yes. Bernie was pretty good at data protection, for all his other failings.”

Yeah, thought Kevin. One point for good data protection. Minus a zillion points for helping Biff screw everything up and then dying on me. He took a deep breath. Trish had managed to push the dildo as far as it would go, and was now thrusting it in and out slowly, her free hand caressing her clit and her pussy lips. Beads of sweat were pearling on her forehead. Her legs were shaking more noticeably now.

“Nils, you go and find out who broke into our system, get our stuff back, and deal with the intruder. Got it?”

“Huh, wouldn’t maybe the police be better equipped to deal with that? I mean, hacking is technically a criminal act, unless I’m severely mistaken.”

“No police. Not yet. I want to save my favors for some of the crap that Biff’s gonna send our way. So you take care of this.”

“Speaking of Biff...” said Nils, a hesitation in his voice.

“Have you found him yet?”

“No. But when I do, what do you want me to do with him?”

“Bring him here.”

“Maybe he should meet with an accident...”

Kevin paused, watching Trish sodomize herself with the large dildo, the effort distorting her beautiful features. She was sweating profusely now.

“He’s family, Nils. I can’t do that. Not yet. Not unless I really have to. For now, just do as I ask.”

“Find out who broke in, get our stuff back, and deal with the guy—or girl. Understood. And how do you want me to deal with them?”

Kevin closed his eyes. “I don’t care. Just make sure that they don’t do it again. Ever.”

Nils paused at the other end of the connection. “Understood.”

“Just make damn sure it doesn’t connect back to us, okay? I don’t need more crap. And keep me posted.”

“Understood.”

He snapped his phone shut, closed his eyes for a few seconds, then let his frustration boil over—he shouted an obscenity and tossed his phone across the room. Trish looked at him, but continued thrusting the dildo into her ass and stroking her clit with her free hand.

Kevin stepped off from the bed, his erection bobbing before him with every step he took. He was angry. Everyone was acting like idiots, and he could not be expected to make sure everyone behaved, could he? He needed a distraction. He needed some proper Kevin-time.

Trish looked up at him as he approached her. “Do you want to stick your big cock in my ass, Father, or—”

He slapped her breasts, hard. “Shut up, bitch! SHUT UP!” He slapped her again.

Trish fell on her side, the dildo embedded in her ass. “Oh! Yes! Hurt me, Father! Punish me! I’ve been a bad little girl! I’ve had naughty, filthy, disgusting thoughts—”

“Spread your legs—more. No, keep fucking yourself with that dildo. Harder.”

He kneeled between her long cheerleader legs before grabbing them and pushing them back harshly almost to her ears. Trish squealed, but kept thrusting the dildo into her ass. Kevin watched it penetrate the tight ring of her anus for a few seconds, and then he lined his cock up with her pussy and pushed, thrusting his body forward to lie on the supine girl, loving the feelings of her thighs pressing against his upper chest.

Kevin grunted—her cunt was impossibly tight, all of the space taken by the rubber cock in her ass. She was tighter than she had been when he first penetrated her, only the second time a cock had been inside her. Trish screamed, a long scream that he muffled by kissing her, but she did not try to move away. He felt her body shook under his, her pelvis moving to maximize contact, the rubber cock in her ass sliding slowly in and out, pressing against his own cock as it moved inside.

He thrust a few times into her, savoring the feel of her body. Then he pulled her head back by the hair, and looked her in the eyes. He could see the lust, but also the despair and pain. Or maybe it was all in his imagination. He did not care.

“Fuck yes,” she said, “you feel so good inside of me, Mister President!”

“Shut up and kiss me, bitch!”

And she did, sloppily, pressing her body against his, helping him ravish her body. The kiss did little to calm Kevin down, in fact seemed to drive him on further. He looked at her again, his cock pushed deep inside her body. The dildo was still plunged in her ass. An idea had formed in his head, and the longer is lingered, the wider his grin grew. So everyone’s getting what they want but me, huh? We’ll see about that!

“Look at me, bitch. Your priest at school, what’s his name?—Father Reginald, yes?” Father Reginald was the catholic priest of the University parish, a small but well-attended community.

“Yessss, Mister President—please fuck me harder! I want to feel you tear me up inside,” she moaned, her hips twisting to try and increase the friction from Kevin’s cock, which was still immobile pushed inside of her.

“You ever fuck Father Reginald, you little slut?”

“Noooo. He’s my priest. Oh! Yes! Like that!” Kevin had pulled out and pushed back in, roughly.

“I wonder if Father Reginald’s worried about you—you know, your grades dropping, how much time you’ve been spending with boys…” Kevin started fucking Trish with hard long stabs that made the girl squeal and shake her breasts alluringly. “Maybe we should go pay Father Reginald a little visit. Maybe you can show him that you are doing just fine. Great in fact. Look at me! That’s right, like that. We can find you a nice little outfit, something that shows off those fucking legs of yours and that tight ass, and we could go and find Father Reginald, and you can seduce him. I’m sure you can convince Father Reginald stuffs his cock inside of you. You could make it real good for him—show him what he’s missing by devoting his a whole life to God. You could be his personal Temptress, a devil with soft hands, a warm mouth and the tightest cunt. If it helps, you could even confess some of the filthier things you’ve been doing for the past few months…”

“Yes—oh!” Kevin was fucking her hard by this point, and she spread her legs further out to encourage him. The look in her eyes got him even harder, that look of panic that he might in fact follow up on this idea, that she might be forced to seduce her confessor, to fuck him, to damn him.

Kevin wondered how Father Reginald might feel were he to slide his underused shaft inside the blonde cheerleader for the first time. Kevin grinned. “I could leave you with a camera at the church, so you could record the encounter. Get a nice little record of him sticking it to you hard, with both your faces recognizable…”

He lowered his voice, whispering in her ear. “And as your reward, we could go visit those hobos you love so much, let them enjoy you for a good long night—tied up, gagged, and begging for it.”

He loved the look in her eyes—she had hated her one experience with the homeless men, and for good reason. He thrust his cock harder into the writhing blonde cheerleader. “We could make sure the good Father has a chance to enjoy your charms frequently, too. You’d get to know Father Reginald very very well, my little slut. I wonder how long it would take before he stops trying to save your soul and just uses you like the fuck toy you are!”

He kneeled up and slapped her breasts before pulling out of her. “Turn around, bitch! I wanna come in your ass! And stick that dildo up your cunt—I want it tight.”

As Trish eagerly flipped herself onto her stomach, Kevin fantasized about using Father Reginald videos as leverage against Trish herself. Presented with the fait accompli, her salacious behavior with a priest of her own church, she would have no choice but submit to him, of her own free will, lest she wanted to see her life destroyed. It was stupid, he knew, and he would never actually do it, but why should he be the only one not getting what he wanted?

Trish thrust the large dildo in her pussy, leaving her asshole free for his final assault.

Fuck you, he thought, to no one in particular, as he felt the puckered ring of Trish’s ass give way to the head of his cock, clasping him with the tightest grip imaginable. You fuckin’ bastards!