The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So, how have things been with her at work?” Bridget asked, in Italian.

“A little awkward, at first,” Susan answered, also in Italian. “But better lately. I think she is going to pretend it never happened. You?”

“Stop it,” Marise griped. She didn’t speak Italian.

Bridget looked around the park the three of them were walking though. There were dozens of people out enjoying the late summer sun, tanning, walking, playing soccer.

“Pretty much the same,” Bridget continued in Italian. Marise glared at her. She smiled back and licked her ice cream. “It’s like she’s locked up the memory of it in a cell or something.”

“Yes, she’s always been good at pushing unpleasant things out of her mind,” Susan said. They were talking about the three-way Susan and Bridget had with Claire. Bridget had enjoyed it, she knew Susan had as well. It bothered her immensely to think Claire thought of it as “unpleasant”.

“This is so rude, you two,” Marise piped in. Everyone was silent for a moment, then Marise asked, “Are you two talking about me?”

Susan laughed, “Is she always this adorable?”

“Pretty much, but she’s right … we are being rude,” Bridget switched to English. “No we aren’t talking about you, I promise.”

“Sorry darling,” Susan gave Marise a peck on the cheek. Marise looked placated.

A soccer ball bounced toward the trio. Without realizing what she was doing, Bridget cut across her two friends and settled it.

“‘ey!” A girl called from 10 yards away. “Send that back over, would you?”

Bridget’s foot rested on top of the ball. She jerked her foot back and the ball rolled on top of her sneakers. Bouncing the ball until she got it to just the right height, her leg swept around in a wide, powerful arc. The ball rocketed back to the girl who, to her credit, caught it cleanly, chest high. She walked over.

“You’ve played a little bit, then?” she asked.

Bridget shrugged with false modesty, “A little.”

“You’re a Yank?”

“Surprised?”

“You just don’t see many Americans playing footie, is all,” the girl explained.

“And yet, our women’s team keeps winning all those World Cups.”

“Good point,” the girl conceded. “I’m Kara.”

“I’m Bridget. These are my friends Susan and Marise.”

Hello’s all the way around.

“You know, we have an odd number,” Kara said. “If you’d like to play …”

“Oh no,” Susan said, “I’m awful at football … I have no coordination at all.”

Bridget smirked. Considering all the “exercise” they’d gotten together, she didn’t think there was anything wrong with Susan’s coordination.

“And I just got this blouse. I don’t want to get it all sweaty,” Marise said.

“You go ahead, Bridgy,” Susan continued. “We’ll be your cheering section.”

Bridget smacked her hands together, “I’m in.”

The other players were a mix of men and women, all in their early 20’s and amused Kara had found an American to make the game 5 on 5. They stopped laughing, Bridget’s teammates did at least, when she scored her first goal 10 minutes into the game. Susan and Marise cheered loudly. Bridget curtseyed.

Her second goal came quickly thereafter. She’d collected the ball on the left sideline, juked her way past the defender (fooling him badly in the process) and cut to the middle of the field. She saw the goalie leaning a little too far to his left. She fired, the ball starting for the middle of the net then bending back to the inside post, to the goalie’s right. Susan and Marise started a ragged, but enthusiastic, cheer.

“Do you mind?” the defender Bridget left back at the sideline snapped.

“Not at all,” Susan laughed and cheered louder.

Bridget stepped forward and waved her hands, palms down, as if to say “Cool it”. The defender stomped away. His back turned, Bridget smiled and waved her hands again, this time palms up, as if to say, “Keep it coming”. Someone behind her giggled.

“Don’t mind Donal, he doesn’t like to lose,” Kara said. “That was brilliant, the way you got by him. You should have seen the look on his face … I laughed my arse off.”

“What a shame, it’s such a cute little arse,” Bridget thought to herself.

Bridget’s team huddled up. Realizing they had a ringer on their hands, the decision was made to run the offense through Bridget. For her part, Bridget noticed Kara stealing glances her way, then guiltily looking away when she was caught. Intrigued, she had a look in Kara’s mind.

Thoughts, Bridget had learned, were a lot like music. Instruments blended their melodies to form a song just as thoughts came together to form a consciousness. Kara’s attraction to Bridget was like horns in her personal tune, loud, bold and getting more so by the moment. Beneath that was another tune, a generalized and growing attraction to women the Bridget melody played off of. An attraction to men, still strong and healthy, served as a counterpoint though, it amused Bridget to see, Kara thought very little of Donal. Above all else, the tempo that drove everything, was confusion. Kara had no idea what to do make of her attraction, or what to do about it.

They broke their huddle, but the other team scored thanks to a defensive breakdown. Donal celebrated the goal a little too intensely for Bridget’s taste, especially considering he’d neither scored nor assisted. Bridget’s team got the goal right back, Bridget assisting this time. Susan called Bridget over.

“Will you be much longer?”

“I hope so,” Bridget replied. “I’m having a blast.”

“I think Marise and I are going to head back to my place. Join us when you can.”

“No prob.”

Susan grinned slyly, “You don’t mind if we start the fun without you?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Ahhh Bridgy, you’re the best,” Susan and Marise walked away, but had gone only a few dozen steps before Marise ran back.

“Do us a favor, will you Bridget?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell Laura and Porcia about this … that I was alone with Susan. Not right away at least.”

“Why not?”

Marise twisted in place, “I know this sounds selfish, but I want something just for me, you know? Just for a little while.”

“Okay, I promise,” Bridget said, resolving not to go to Susan’s place at all that night.

“Thanks Bridget … thanks for understanding,” a smiling Marise ran off.

Bridget’s team scored twice more, with Bridget netting one of them, before the other side decided enough was enough. The losers were good sports, congratulating Bridget on her play. Even Donal said something, though it was clear his heart wasn’t in it. Kara sidled up to Bridget.

“Do you party?” she asked.

“Huh?”

Kara held her thumb and index finger, pressed together, up to her lips, “Do you party?”

“Oh no, never got into that,” Bridget answered automatically. Judging by the look on Kara’s face, she realized she’d missed an “in”. But all wasn’t lost, “But if you have it, a glass of wine would be great right now.”

Kara smiled brightly, “Follow me.”

Her flat was near the park, decorated in a 20-something messy motif. The furniture was badly mismatched, either hand me downs or picked up at the goodwill shop. Every surface seemed covered with plates, glasses or wrinkled clothing. Kara seemed oblivious to the mess.

“I share the place with a bloke I went to school with. He’s out with his mates, I doubt he’ll be back tonight,” she explained.

“Are you two …”

“Oh God no!” Kara sounded horrified. “He’s a stout fellow, but he sort of … I don’t think ‘asexual’ is quite right. Women are kind of an abstraction to him. Outside of the lad mags I don’t think he pays us much mind. All he really cares about are good times and Chelsea football.”

“Sounds like a character.”

“He’s sweet,” Kara struck a sympathetic tone, “he’d give you the shirt off his back, not that you’d want it, but … ewww, no!”

Kara gave Bridget a tour of the place, ending at the bathroom. She reached into a closet and handed Bridget towels, “If you’d like, you can shower up here. I know the place is a bit of a mess, but these are clean, I promise.”

Bridget smiled, “Thanks.”

The shower felt fantastic after running around a hot pitch in jeans. She cleaned herself quickly, wanting to make sure there was hot water left for Kara. After drying she wrapped the towel around her waist and put her bra back on, then brushed her hair. Kara’s make-up was on a shelf above the toilet; Bridget gave herself a touch up. Her jeans, top and panties were folded neatly on the toilet seat, her socks and sneakers on the floor below. The idea of putting dirty cloths on her freshly clean skin creeped her out. She stepped into the hall hoping Kara had a tee and shorts she could borrow.

“Hey Kara?”

“Over here,” the voice came from the right.

Kara was standing in a bedroom, Bridget assumed it was her bedroom. She’d just taken her jersey off, it was still partially in her hand as she laid it on the bed. All she had on were socks, black shorts and her white sports bra. She was thin, really thin and wiry; the muscles of her arms, legs stomach and shoulders sharply defined not so much from exercise but because there was nary an ounce of fat on her. Her frame was boyish, but accessorized with girlish curves in her hips and ass. Kara’s neck was long and graceful. Her brown hair was cur short on the nape, and over the ears with a sassy bob that, at the moment, spilled past one of her eyebrows. The cheekbones were high and sharp enough to cut wood; the mouth full and sexual. Kara possessed the biggest, most beautiful brown eyes Bridget had ever seen, and those eyes were drinking in the American girl’s near naked splendor. Even had she not been empathic, Bridget would have detected the desire that radiated from K ara like brilliant, confused light.

“Are you okay?” Bridget asked.

“Yes … fine,” Kara’s eyes were all over Bridget’s body.

“You’re sure?”

“Quite.”

“Got something on your mind?” Bridget walked into the room.

“Not really.”

“Because you look like you do,” Bridget kept walking.

“I …”

Bridget walked right up to Kara, so close their breasts grazed together, “You really look like a girl with something on her mind.”

They were so close, Bridget could feel Kara’s uneven breath washing against her face. Kara’s eyes screwed shut. Lately, in her fairly frequent masturbation session, women had been forcing their way into her fantasies: Women she knew, women she saw on the street or on the telly. She liked how they made her feel. But they also scared her because she wanted more than just the fantasy, she had no idea how to turn it into reality and, no matter how nice those visions made her feel, she wasn’t sure she had the courage to do anything about it. Now, the sexiest, most alluring girl she’d ever seen in her life was standing in her bedroom, half naked, so close she could smell the soap Bridget had used. She felt paralyzed and energized all at once. A cold shiver ran up Kara’s spine; it had started in her pussy which was suddenly, delightfully hot. Her eyes opened. Bridget seemed to be staring deep into her. Kara’s lips parted.

Bridget leaned forward and their mouths touched. Kara let the gentle, nipple tightening sensation flow through her. Bridget’s mouth captured Kara’s lower lip, holding it as she pulled back. Neither said anything. Kara leaned forward now, mouth opening a little wider. Bridget’s arms were around her, their breasts pressed together. Another kiss, deeper this time, and Kara felt Bridget’s tongue enter her mouth, the tips just touching. Cara’s hands were on Bridget’s hips. With a gentle sigh, she pushed her own tongue forward, barely able to believe she was doing it.

It was unlike any other kiss in her life: softer, gentler, supple and easy. Kara felt like she could set any pace she wanted and it would be okay because Bridget would understand. There’d be no airs, no need to pretend at an excitement she didn’t feel yet, or at all. She already was excited and she could let that excitement go anywhere it wanted. That epiphany was all she needed for their passion to reach a critical mass.

The kiss suddenly ignited. Kara’s hands found Bridget’s breasts. Her fingers worked the fleshy mounds, their hest and firmness were fascinating. She could feel the nipples hardening and it thrilled her to know she was the cause of it, that she was exciting Bridget as much as Bridget excited her. And Bridget was exciting her; Kara was wet already. She could feel a rivulet of juice creeping down her upper thigh.

Bridget broke the kiss. With a carefree smile, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, casually tossing it aside.

“Oh Bridget,” Kara sighed as her finger played with the erect nipples. Now Bridget was reaching around Kara, bringing their mouths close again. Their kiss was hot and deep now with tongues stabbing back and forth. Kara moaned, she could hear the Velcro on her bra tearing apart. She pulled back just far enough for it to come off, then she threw herself into the redhead. They were pressed together so tightly now she felt merely like half of a whole.

“Do you want to keep going?” Bridget asked, slightly out of breath.

“God yes!” Kara said eagerly, eyes still closed. Her legs were beginning to tremble.

“Great!”

In the midst of another kiss, Bridget guided Kara to the bed and laid her down gently. Kara’s legs dangled over the edge, her hands gripped the sheets. Slowly, Bridget inched the shorts down. Kara raised her legs, and then they fell away. Bridget eyed her naked form appreciatively. Kara spread her legs, to show Bridget how ready she was. Bridget’s thumb disappeared under the knot of her towel. With a flick of her wrist, the towel dropped. Kara gasped. Bridget’s shaven pussy was pink and swollen. The American girl climbed onto the bed. Kara slid back to give her room.

Bridget lay on her side, tight against Kara, who lay on her back. The redhead’s fingers danced around Kara’s clit, teasing it, occasionally brushing the tip. Kara gasped again when she felt her stem pop from its sheath. Her hand cupped Bridget’s twat, delighting Kara with its warmth and smoothness. Two of Bridget’s fingers dipped down, pressing against Kara’s hole, the thumb still rubbing her clit. Kara groaned now, loud and low, with a ruble she felt deep in her chest. Her mouth wet to Bridget’s breast, her lips clamping onto the long nipple. Kara sucked on it fiercely.

The fingers fucked Kara slowly, too slowly for Kara. She thrust herself against Bridget’s hand, desperately trying to get the digits deeper into her. Kara made snorting noises through her nose, her mouth still glued to Bridget’s tit. The fingers were working faster now, Kara felt she might rip in half as she pistoned herself. She could feel her orgasm forming in her gut, gathering strength, growing like a storm cloud full of thunder …

… and then the fingers withdrew, leaving her desperately empty. Bridget pulled away.

Kara’s frantic eyes popped open. Groaning with frustration, she saw Bridget smiling at her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

Bridget extended a finger, one that had been fucking her so recently. Kara licked it clean. It wasn’t the first time she’d tasted herself, but she couldn’t remember ever tasting so sweet. Bridget fed her the other.

Bridget’s head dipped down. She ran her tongue along the lines of Kara’s muscles, lapping at the salty skin. Kara’s breasts weren’t big, but they weren’t small either. They were wonderfully formed and capped by tiny, hard nips. Bridget’s mouth played with them, her tongue swatting at the bullet of flesh. Bridget drifted lower, kissing her way over Kara’s defined abs, swirling her tongue in her belly button. The Bridget kissed her way lower still. Kara spread wide, giving Bridget the room she needed.

“Oh God … ohhh God,” Kara whispered.

Kara’s pubes were trimmed short, with a thin strip that extended up from her lips. Dew was forming on the individual hairs. Bridget gave the folds an experimental lick. Kara flinched, then sighed. Bridget licked again and again.

Kara’s head was thrown back, her back arched. Two hands held Bridget’s head, pulling her in. Bridget’s tongue felt so soft and confident as it raked her pussy. Her lips were pulled apart, Bridget’s mouth sucked on her clit as fingers danced at the entrance to her hole. Kara heard herself mewling with pleasure, barely able to believe the sounds were coming from her. It was the kind of noise a slightly whorish, really sexy woman would make. The thought of it spurred Kara on.

Kara felt blocked up tight, as if a plug had been inserted into her soul, and behind it, the pressure of her orgasm was building again.

“Ohhhh … ohhhh … yessssssss!”

The pressure, Kara knew, was irresistible; nothing could stop it.

“Yes … Bridget … oh God yes!”

But the plug, or whatever it was blocking her, held. She could heel it trembling in its place. Kara trembled with it. She rode Bridget’s face roughly.

“Bridget … God, please … ohhh … ohhhhhhh!”

She was so close now. One of her hands left the back of Bridget’s head to pull at her nipple. That tiny bit of pain, to go along with all the pleasure from her snatch was all she needed. The plug came loose and her orgasm burst free. A loud, feral growl forced its way through her clenched teeth. Kara’s body flopped wildly, for what seemed like an eternity, then she went limp, barely able to move, gulping for air. Bridget lay atop her and they kissed gently and deeply. For a second time, she found herself licking Bridget clean.

“That … that was fantastic,” Kara whispered when she recovered her voice.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Good God, I’m going to need a lot more of that,” she hugged Bridget close.

“We have all night.”

“I wish I’d found you sooner,” something occurred to Kara. “When do you go back to the States?”

“About a week and a half.”

“No!”

Bridget gave Kara a tender kiss, “It’s okay, you can learn a lot in a week and a half. Besides, I’ve made some friends over here who would LOVE to meet you.”

That brought a little smile to Kara’s face. She started to get up, “How about that wine now?”

Bridget stopped her, “In a little bit. First, you think you’re ready to do that to me?”

Kara nodded eagerly. Bridget lay down, slipping a pillow under the small of her back. Kara slid between Bridget’s legs, but stopped short. Her new lover’s pussy was so wet and beautiful it intimidated her a little. Using a hand, Bridget urged Kara forward and Kara did what Bridget had done to her. They spent the rest of the day and most of the night in bed, drinking wine and cuming, sometimes gently, sometimes thunderously. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, a little drunk and completely satisfied. Bridget left early in the morning, Kara was still asleep. She wrote a quick good bye note, including her phone number, and let herself out.

Claire was asleep on the couch when Bridget got home. Various notes and memos were spread out on the coffee table. A thick, bound report lay on Claire’s chest like a blanket. Bridget stared at her for a long time, the ridiculousness of the situation, the fundamental unfairness of it all, apparent to her as never before.

In two months, Bridget had established more of a social life in London than Claire had in all her years in that city. Only once, that wild threeway she’d had with Bridget and Susan, had she allowed herself to feel have fun, to give in to passion, and now she treated that experience as something to be avoided at all costs.

It just felt wrong to Bridget, wrong on so many levels. It was wrong because Claire was a wonderful person, a person Bridget believed was entitled to be happy. It was wrong because Claire denied herself for the sake of a guy on the other side of the planet … a wonderful person in his own right, to be sure. He was Bridget’s brother, after all. Before she went to sleep, Bridget made a mental list of everything that needed to be done. She’s decided to take matters into her own hands.