The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It may not have looked good; certainly it didn’t at first glance. Susan didn’t think so, which explained why she was trying, fruitlessly, to hide under a sheet. By any rational measure, it could not have looked good to Claire, who’d just stumbled upon her best friend passionately shagging her young foster sister. But neither saw the way Bridget did, who noticed immediately the pitched battle between arousal and the rational that waged across Claire’s entire body. More importantly, neither felt the way Bridget did.

She’d felt like this before, exactly once. 18 months ago, in Rome, when she’d activated the runes at Victoria Tastick’s villa … which had made the subsequent induction of her friends and teacher into The Association possible. She remembered how that one time had felt, and what it made her capable of.

She’d activated the runes, per Victoria’s command. She’d been on all fours, fingering herself, the lust produced by what she’d done driving her insane, animalistic. Then the light had come on from within the villa. There’d been a person looking out the window. She’d known immediately who it was, but there was no fear; the lust burned away all else.

She walked quickly, but in no hurry, back to the villa. The path along the side of the house was bumpy with tree roots and the night was blinding black, but she stepped confidently. She felt powerful and invulnerable, and she was. In through the front door, left through the foyer and into the sitting room. Across the sitting room and through the arch, to a short hall. The hall turned right, then ran the length of the ground floor, but she wasn’t interested in that. The door at the end of the hall was open, the figure in the doorway backlit. It was Catherine.

“Bridget, what’s going on?” she asked. Her tone was firm, because she still believed the fact that she was the teacher and Bridget the student still meant something. Bridget’s eyes swept over her. Catherine’s robe had been thrown on quickly, the loose knot barely keeping her decent. The swell of her breasts were captivating. The front of the robe rode high up Catherine’s leg. As the teacher shifted her stance, Bridget could see a flash of green panties. Bridget’s lust burst through all bounds of decency. She quickened her pace.

Catherine realized something in Bridget had profoundly changed only when her charge stepped into the light cast from the bedroom. The girl’s were flat and feral quality. Then there were the breasts. Catherine had noticed them before, the way any woman would notice another woman’s body. But they were impossible to miss now; round, large without being obscene and blissfully unaware of gravity. She saw the nipples stabbing blatantly through the ribbed t-shirt, nipples so long and hard Catherine could almost feel how much they hurt. Something had whipped up a desperate arousal in the girl. Bridget closed the distance between them.

A quick shove, two hands glancing off her shoulders, and Catherine stumbled back into her room, too shocked to protest. Bridget followed, closing the door behind her. Catherine regained her footing, but Bridget was on her, grabbing the robe around the shoulders and pulling down. Catherine tried to raise her arms, but the garment had bunched around her elbows, restricting her just enough to prevent any defense. She felt the knot give way and the robe open. Bridget pushed her again, harder. Catherine fell on bed with a yelp.

Bridget was atop her now, lips kissing neck, breasts touching, surprising Catherine by how heavy and full the felt against her. A scalding wet heat poured from between the girl’s legs and onto Catherine’s upper thigh. The robe still pinned her arms, so she tried to prop herself up on her elbows.

“No Bridget,” Catherine barely kept from screaming.

Bridget grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled Catherine back down. She fell back with a groan, feeling weak and powerless. It frightened her to think Bridget wouldn’t be stopped. Fingers were pressing against her panties now; Catherine was amazed how much she had lubed.

Catherine begged for it to stop. The fingers were rubbing her slit, the mouth working up her neck. Catherine pleaded. The fingers brushed her clit. Catherine reflexively moaned and bucked her hips. She opened her mouth and breathed deep. She was going to scream for help. Bridget kissed her.

There was the sensation of moving from one place to another, like stepping out of a cool room into a very hot day. The sensation, the passion overwhelmed Catherine, enfeebling her. She was going limp, slipping away. All that registered were the burning lips against hers and the fingers on her cunt. She knew the kiss was dangerous. It was changing her. It was trying to take away something and replace it with something else, and Catherine knew what that was. She tried to throw Bridget off. The girl was freakishly strong. She closed her eyes and thought of the men she’d been with. One by one their strong and hard images morphed into visions of tender, supple Bridget; visions of lips on nipple, fingers tangled gently in red hair, tongues touching soft, wet pussies, of doing the naughtiest and most delightful things to each other. She returned to the moment and realized she was bucking her hips into Bridget’s probing fingers. She tried to free her arms again. She wan ted to feel Bridget pressed against her.

Bridget broke the kiss and sat up. She peeled her shirt off. Like a butterfly on display, lust pinned Catherine to the bed as Bridget’s breasts bounced into view. Catherine managed to get her arms free. She reached for the waistband of Bridget’s pajama bottoms. Together they took them off, then the panties. Catherine went dizzy with the sight and smell of Bridget’s pussy, the moisture on the folds looked like morning dew. Catherine leaned forward, tongue slowly extending.

Bridget pushed her away. Catherine fell back to the bed with a frustrated groan. Bridget positioned herself between Catherine’s legs and pulled off the sopping green panties. Catherine raised her ass high in the air to let it happen. Bridget fell onto Catherine, their legs entwining. They kissed again as their pussies rubbed together. Catherine had never felt anything as sweet and delicate as what was pressed between her legs. They started slowly, their hands sweeping over the other’s body, stopping briefly to touch and probe and pinch. Occasionally their clits touched and they flinched with joy. Catherine worked her hands between their sweating bodies to gather up Bridget’s breasts. Bridget arched her back and Catherine took a warm, salty nipple into her mouth. Bridget sighed happily and worked her hips faster.

Their passion began to build upon itself. They strained against each, working to keep their cunts touching. Catherine’s mouth worked roughly against Bridget’s tit. Their hips moved like violent blurs as they thrust into each other again and again. Both were beyond thought, they only acted and reacted to the electric joy pulsating from their sexes. Bridget spun about suddenly, latching her mouth to Catherine’s vagoo. Automatically Catherine did the same, thinking it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever tasted. She wanted more, needed more, and thrust her tongue deep into Bridget.

The noise of their fucking filled the room, grunts and breathing along with the sopping babel of wet folds worked over and over. Catherine came first, her orgasmic shrieks stifled by Bridget’s body. Bridget lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. Catherine’s head bobbed up and down.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Bridget grunted. “Fuck it, fuck it, fuck my pussy! Make it cum.”

Catherine almost came again just listening to Bridget talk. The girl was always so sweet and respectful in class … where was this smut coming from. Catherine ached to get her off. She could tell from the way Bridget was shaking, it wouldn’t be long. She used her fingers to spread Bridget wide open.

“Bihhh … bihhh … bitch!” Bridget hissed, thrilling Catherine again. “Ohhh you bitch … oh God … cumming … make me cum … Ohhhhhhhhooooo!”

Bridget’s pussy bubbled up, splashing Catherine’s face with her nectar. Then Bridget was kissing her again, licking her face, and Catherine was doing the same. The lay on their sides, lips pressed together, touching each other. The heat flared anew. Bridget pushed Catherine flat on her back, then straddled the teacher’s head. She lowered her pussy; Catherine took it eagerly.

Hours later. The lust was still there, but now it was controllable and she was too tired to continue. Catherine looked like she was asleep, so Bridget rolled away gently and sat at the edge of the bed and got her breath under control. Soft fingers touched her spine.

“Come back to bed,” Catherine whispered.

“I can’t.”

“Please.”

“No,” Bridget stood up, found her panties on the floor. She was bending to pick them up when she felt Catherine behind her, bending also, pressing her still moist slit into the upraised ass, hands reaching for dangling breasts.

“But I still want you!”

“I said no,” panties in hand, Bridget straightened up and spun away. Catherine looked hurt. “How would it look if I rolled out of your room in the morning?”

“I don’t care.”

“I do, we both have to,” Bridget explained. “We have to bring all the others in, and can’t let anyone get suspicious while we’re doing it. If anyone figures out what’s going on, it’ll be a disaster.”

Catherine looked disappointed, but Bridget knew she understood.

Bridget quickly put her panties and tee on. She stepped forward and gathered Catherine in her arms. They kissed, “There’ll be other nights, I promise. And when we’re outside the room, you’re still in charge. But when we’re in here, and when it comes to converting the others, I’m the boss. It has to be that way. You know I’m right.”

Catherine did. She let Bridget go. Silently, pajamas in hand, Bridget slipped into the hall.

Bridget rolled out of the bed and stood up straight, chest back, chest out. The posture almost made her look more naked. Despite herself, Claire found her gaze drawn to Bridget. She’d seen so many aspects of Bridget, from the annoying but sweet seven year old she’d left back in the States to the poised, intelligent woman who’d stepped off the plane at Heathrow, but this was the first time she’d seen her as a sexual being. The sight thrilled her, and scared her.

Bridget walked confidently, closing the distance between them. The brazenness of the movement froze Claire, just long enough. Taking her by the elbows, Bridget pulled Claire to her, and as their breasts touched, they kissed. Bridget used her mouth to open Claire’s lips and let their tongues brush. Slowly, Bridget pulled her closer, and their breasts flattened against each other. Claire didn’t kiss back, or move closer herself, but she didn’t try to stop what was happening, and Bridget’s breasts certainly felt nice.

The two turned 180 degrees and, still kissing, moved slowly toward the bed. Susan came out from under the sheet. Bridget laid Claire on the bed, the older woman’s legs dangled off the edge. Susan scurried to Claire’s side. Bridget flipped the front of Claire’s skirt up, and ever so slightly, Claire raised her ass to allow the back to slide up as well. She wore black chantilly boyshorts; slightly racier than Bridget expected. The panties came off, again with Claire doing only just enough to help. Bridget snuck a peak; Susan had pulled Claire’s sweater up, the large, soft orbs were still encased in a bra that matched the just removed panties. Claire’s pussy hair was close cropped and she was very wet. Bridget planted kisses along the edge of the hair line. Claire squirmed with each touch of the soft lips.

Claire’s eyes were clamped shut. She had wanted to be angry, or resist. But the sight of Susan shagging little Bridgy, the looks on their faces, what they were doing to each other … it was so damn hot! Each time she pushed the thought away it came back stronger, more visceral. Then they’d seen her, and Bridget had come to her so confident and sure of herself. She’d been unable to resist. Now she was on the bed and they were touching her, taking her clothes off, kissing her … she felt Bridget’s lips between her legs. This was wrong, she knew it, but it felt so good and it had been so long since …

“Ohhhhh,” she groaned as the tip of Bridget’s tongue traveled the length of her slit. Susan had pulled the cups of her bra down and now she was sucking on the nipple. Claire placed a hand on Susan’s hip; the skin was slick with sweat and hot and yielding. Her hand slid down to Susan’s ass. Her other hand landed on Bridget’s head. Susan looked up, her eyes dulled with lust. It excited Claire, and then Susan was on her. They were kissing and now Claire kissed back with all the passion she could muster.

Bridget was eating her in earnest now. Susan’s hands pawed at her breasts. Claire’s hand moved between Susan’s legs. She bypassed the dildo, her fingers seeking the crease in the slit in the strap. She slid two fingers into Susan and marveled at how warm and tight her friend was.

Bridget’s tongue stabbed into her over and over, occasionally flicking her swelling clit. She was actively humping into the girl’s face. Susan impaled herself on Claire’s fingers. Using her thumb she sought out Susan’s clit and when she found it her friend squealed. Like a ball on a billiards table, she was buffeted on all sides by the sensations. She began to shake as her orgasm began to swell up from everywhere in her body. Bridget was hoovering her clit now, her legs flew up in the air. Susan was working her tits again. She arched her back, offering up as much as Susan could take.

“God … my God … yes … yes … YES … uuhhhh!” Claire screamed, her entire essence seemed to rush out of her body, through her cunt and onto Bridget’s face. She felt suddenly exhausted, but with no thoughts of rest. Bridget’s hands were on her hips, urging her to roll over. She did, and somehow her skirt disappeared. As though from a distance she heard Bridget call Susan. Claire pulled her sweater off, then dropped to all fours.

Bridget was in front of her now, legs spread. From behind she could feel Susan fitting the head of the dildo to her hole. Reaching under and behind, she grabbed the shaft to help guide it in. Susan pushed. There was only one direction for Claire to go.

Her mouth covered Bridget’s pussy. She drank it in, using her tongue to capture as much of the sweetness as she could. She used her fingers to tease Bridget’s lips as she licked. Bridget cooed gratefully. Susan pounded at her; Claire felt like her breath was being hammered out of her. Her breasts swayed with the beat Susan set. Claire loved how it felt.

“Oh Claire … that’s nice … sooooo nice,” she heard Bridget moan. Claire wrapped her lips around Bridget’s clit and bit lightly. Bridget went stiff, her legs squeezing on both sides of Claire’s head. Claire came again, and her legs gave out. Susan collapsed onto her.

No one moved at first, the only sound was the three of them panting. Then with an exhausted moan, Susan rolled off of Claire’s back. Claire looked up. Bridget had a happy, dreamy look on her face. The enormity of what had just happened hit Claire. She didn’t stop to collect her cloths; she just jumped off the bed and ran out of the room.

Susan and Bridget looked at each other with equal parts confusion and concern. They sat in silence, afraid to move, until Susan meekly said, “Maybe I should go?” She dressed quickly and slipped out of the room. Bridget listened closely: No screaming, no recriminations, nothing being thrown. She went to her dresser and picked out some cloths, something a little more conservative than what she’d worn for Susan, something a little less revealing. Covered up and buttoned up, she took a deep breath and went looking for Claire.

She found her sitting in a chair, staring out a window, wearing a robe cinched up tight. As Bridget sat in a nearby chair, an expression rippled across her otherwise hard expression. Anger, confusion sadness? All of the above? None of it?

“I’ve never done it in my parent’s home. My sex life is my business, not theirs,” Bridget began, “and to make sure it never became a problem, I’ve always tried to make sure they never had to make it their business. I should have shown you the same courtesy. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Claire answered softly. “Apology accepted.”

“You may not want to do that quite yet,” Bridget continued. “Like I said, my sex life is my business. Please don’t be mad at Susan. If anything, I came on to her. It was my decision and I make no apologies for who I sleep with and what I’m into.”

Claire laughed bitterly, the way a very sad person does when amused, “Oh get off your high horse. I’m not your mother. I don’t care who you sleep with whether it’s Susan or Queen Bloody Elizabeth the Bloody Second. Besides, it isn’t as if I’ve never done anything like that before!”

Bridget’ jaw dropped, “Excuse me?”

“For God’s sake Bridget I went to an all girls school, you knew that!”

Bridget took a moment to collect her thoughts, “So what’s the problem?”

The look flicked across Susan’s face again and Bridget recognized it this time. It was misery.

“Remember when you told me about you and Chris and how nothing happened between you two because it felt too much like incest?” Bridget tried. “Is that it? It feels weird because it was me?”

Claire pressed her fist against her moth and shook her head. Bridger closed her eyes and bit her thumb the way she always did when she concentrated. And then it came to her.

“It’s Chris, isn’t it?” Bridget realized. “You’re not upset because it was me, you’re upset because it wasn’t Chris?”

Tears welled up in Claire’s eyes.

“I had no idea you loved him that much.”

Claire bent forward and began to cry quietly, “It’s so stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Bridget rubbed her back and wondered where the way out of this was.