The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“So what’s up with Nat and Julie?” Claire Goodman asked as she laced up her running shoes and tied them tight.

“Unhhh... what are you talking about?” Jenny Blair mumbled, still hoping to catch a few minutes’ sleep before the inevitable. It’s Sunday, just give me one day to sleep in... she thought.

“I’m talking about Julie being the quiet one for once,” Claire continued as she cranked open the blinds, letting the morning light flood the large dorm room she shared with Jenny... and the freak in the corner. Claire turned back to Jenny, grinning as the long-haired girl rolled over and turned away from the sudden brightness. “Have you ever seen Julie shut her mouth for more than a few seconds? Not once since I’ve known her, not one time in three months. I’m telling you, something’s up with her and Nat. Lovers’ quarrel, maybe.”

She picked up the blue racquetball from her desk and bounced it off the floor, thump, thump, thump, as she crossed the room, like she always did when she was pissed off about something. “Never figured Julie for a dyke, you know? Nat, sure, no big surprise; it’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for. Julie, well, she screws any remotely attractive guy with a pulse. Hey, maybe she’s bi —”

“Will you shut up? Please?” a tired voice called from the bed in the corner.

“Oh, the freak speaks after all,” Claire replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Why don’t you come out of the closet? Just admit it, Megan, you’re into girls full-time.”

Jenny threw off the covers and stood, knowing all too well where this was leading. “Claire, be quiet. It’s none of your business and I really don’t care, especially at seven in the morning. Why don’t you just let it go? Why do you have to push?”

“Because I wanna know why she strolls in at three a.m. every night and wakes me up. Because I wanna know why the freak tried to crawl into bed with me. Because she’s a freak.“ Claire grabbed her jacket and opened the door. “I need to get some air,” she said and departed, slamming the door behind her.

Jenny turned to look at Megan Shepard, but the girl had already buried her head under the covers. She heard quiet weeping, saw the blanket tremble as she went over and sat on the floor beside Megan’s bed. What could you say to someone so lonely and confused when you were just as confused as she was? What kind of comfort was possible?

So, once again, she remained silent.

Claire slammed down the free weights, her arms burning up and down their entire length from the exertion. Overdid it again, gonna hurt like hell tomorrow, she thought as she walked over to the Universal machine in the corner of the exercise room and adjusted the weight on the leg press. Shit, probably made the freak cry, she thought as faint shame burned at the edge of her thoughts. Why did I have to do that?

Because she’s a freak. Why else?

Claire sat down, gripped the metal rails on either side of the tiny seat, placed her feet on the upper set of footpads and pushed, grunting as she raised the weights attached to the other end, held them there for a long moment and lowered them again. Sweat ran down her face, soaked through her top as she repeated the motion over and over again, until her legs ached and her fingers could barely keep their grip. “Fuck!” she shouted as she let the weights slam down, unable to lift them even one more time, utterly exhausted. Why the hell did you do that, you freak? Crawl into my bed and touch me? Crawl into my bed and make me like it?

When Claire looked up, there was someone standing in the doorway: Nat Corson herself, subject of Claire’s recent discourse back in her room. “Problems?” Nat said, her tight top accentuating her breasts.

Very nice breasts, too, Claire thought, and was instantly shocked by the thought. “No, I... just couldn’t keep it up. Too much weight.”

“Oh. I see.” Nat walked into the room, her hips moving back and forth with every step. In one hand she held a blue sports bottle. “Thirsty? You look like you could use a little... refreshment.”

Claire looked at the bottle for a moment; even through the opaque plastic, the contents appeared very dark. “What is it?”

“Energy drink, brand new. You’ll like it.” Nat held out the bottle. “I promise.”

“Sure, why not?” Claire muttered, and took a swig. Sweetness burst across her tongue as the thick fluid coursed down her throat, almost syrupy, coating everything it touched with a thin film that lingered long after she had swallowed. It burned like alcohol going down, like that damn cinnamon schnapps she drank her first weekend here. Pete had groped her for the first time on that ratty couch out on the patio of his frat house as the party inside continued, unaware of their activities. They’d done more than just grope that night, but she couldn’t remember now... how much had she drank? Six shots? Eight, maybe?

“Whoa... that’s some... potent stuff...” she said, a fog falling around her mind as suddenly she got cold, her bare legs breaking out in goose bumps just like that first night with Pete. “What’s in it?”

“That really doesn’t matter. You like it, don’t you?” Nat didn’t wait for a response as Claire’s tongue emerged and licked her lips, savoring the traces left there, each tiny droplet exploding on her tongue as intensely as the first taste had. “Want some more?”

“Uhh... yeah...” Claire said, lost as she felt phantom fingers slip beneath the waistband of her panties and begin to fumble at her snatch, making her shudder. This wasn’t the same, no, not this time; it was better this time, the fingers knew their way around a woman, not like Pete had touched her at all.

“Sure you do. Everyone wants more. We all crave to be connected to someone, even for one brief moment.” Nat placed the tip between Claire’s lips and tipped the bottle up, filling Claire’s mouth with the dark brew. Claire sucked greedily at it, black drops spilling from the edges of her mouth and running down her cheeks. Nat smiled, saying, “That’s a good girl... very good...” as Claire shuddered and came, the amplified memories feeding back upon themselves and replaying in her mind again and again. After a moment Nat let the bottle go and picked Claire up as if she were light as a sheet of paper, slinging her over one shoulder. Before she left, though, she spied two items she thought might come in handy and pocketed them.

Nat hummed as she walked out of the exercise room, a single thought in her head: One down... two to go.

Jenny answered her cell phone on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Yeah, Jenny, it’s Tracy. Claire asked me to give you a buzz. She didn’t think you’d want to talk to her right now.”

“Yeah, well, she’s right.”

“I know what happened; she told me all about it. I thought you and Megan might want to meet up with Claire somewhere, maybe work things out. You all could use a little... diversion. Too much stress with midterms coming up.”

“Are you going to be there?” Not a good idea for Claire and Megan to be alone together right now, she thought.

“Sure, just me and a few... friends.” In the background, Jenny heard a gentle laugh and muted conversation.

Jenny looked over at Megan, still huddled on the bed (but at least the covers had come off), the dark clothing and hair framing her too-pale face, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “Yeah, I think that’s okay.”

“Good. We’re hanging out down in the basement, Room B13. Nice and private.

“Come and join us.”

“I don’t want to do this, Jenny,” Megan said as the girls walked deeper into the dimly-lit basement, far past the laundry facilities and exercise room. I can’t face her again, not after... after what happened. I didn’t know... I didn’t think... “Let’s just go back.”

“No! Something happened between you and Claire, I have no idea what it was but it’s impossible to live with either one of you right now. You two need to work this out, Megan. Whatever the hell happened, you need to deal with it.” Jenny looked at the faded numbers painted onto the steel doors that lined the hallway. “B13. There it is.” She walked over and raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open with a long groan before she reached it.

Tracy stood there, the room behind her featureless except for dim shadows; from inside Jenny could hear voices, whispers, even Claire’s familiar giggle. “Glad you could make it, ladies. Come on in... and join the party.”

Megan felt a twinge in her stomach, a strange feeling tickling the back of her thoughts. She almost turned, almost walked back up to her room to hide beneath her blankets again... but Jenny was right: she had o deal with what had happened. Then Jenny grabbed her arm and pulled her into he doorway, and the choice was taken out of her hands. “It’ll be okay, Megan. I promise you guys can work it out —”

The room filled with blazing light as Tracy flipped a switch, blinding them just long enough for Julie to emerge from behind the door and slam it shut, shooting the heavy deadbolt Cliff had installed an hour before. Megan had enough time to register the stink of sweat and sex heavy in the air as both girls instinctively raised their hands to their eyes and Jenny cried, “Hey, what the —”

But by then it was far too late to escape.

Julie’s arms wrapped around Megan’s throat in a classic sleeper hold and squeezed, constricting her throat and threatening to block all passage of breath in and out of her lungs. Megan tried to kick out, to grab at her attacker, but Julie leaned back and easily lifted the smaller girl off the ground; without leverage, all Megan could do was flail as her struggles grew weaker. She watched helplessly as Tracy shoved Jenny against the wall, covering the girl’s mouth with her hand, pinning Jenny with her body. Jenny screamed as Tracy grabbed her right breast through the thin cotton shirt, squeezing it roughly as she forced her knee up between Jenny’s thighs, raising her off the floor. “Mmmm...” she said, licking her lips, her face inches from Jenny’s. “Fresh meat.”

Tracy reached into her pants pocket and removed a small black object. “Nighty-night,” she said in a sing-song voice as she jabbed the stun gun into Jenny’s neck and pressed the stud. Jenny spasmed, falling limp as a ragdoll as Tracy released her hold, letting the unconscious girl slide to the floor.

She turned toward Megan, looking at her with a critical eye, as if Megan were some prize animal being judged. “And what to do with you?” Tracy said, pressing her body close and sliding her hands over the terrified girl. Tracy moved one hand down, lingering for a moment at Megan’s breasts before continuing past her belly, slipping past the waistband of her jeans, over the surface of her panties, easily finding her clit and stroking it expertly through the sheer material. Megan’s cheeks burned as she felt her body start to respond, a hint of wetness pooling beneath Tracy’s expert touch. Please... she tried to say, but had no air to give to create the word.

Tracy’s other hand moved fast, faster than Megan could follow, and something pressed against her side. Tracy spoke but suddenly the world slid sideways and Megan didn’t understand whatever the words had been, pain blossoming in her side as the floor rose to meet her and she realized dimly that her attacker had let go, that she could run now except she couldn’t, her body wouldn’t respond to the commands her brain gave it, and why was everything so blurry now? So dark? So dark...

Somewhere there was the sound of water dripping, somewhere close. There were other sounds, too: metal scraping against metal, heavy breathing like Claire always did after her morning workouts, moans of pleasure... or was it pain? Were they her own? No, something hard and foul-tasting had been shoved in her mouth. Megan tried to shake her head, tried to stand, her recent memories nothing but a blur...

Somewhere off to the right Megan heard a muffled moan, but try as she might she could not move her head even a fraction of an inch; a thick band had been strapped across her forehead, holding it down on some sort of hard, curved headrest that wrapped around the back of her skull up to her temples. Her arms had been pulled behind her back, tightly bound together at the wrists and elbows, the cords cutting into her flesh every time she pulled against them, making her wince. Her legs were spread apart, almost perpendicular to her body, held by more cords at the upper thigh and knee and ankle on each side. The bonds had one immediately obvious purpose: they made it impossible to see anything but what was right in front of her.

Her own personal chamber of horrors... and she had a front-row seat.

In the center of the square room a metal frame had been constructed, heavy square tubing forming a large cube. At the top center of this construct had been placed a large steel ring, through which had been threaded a heavy length of chain which creaked with every spasm of the object it held at the dead center of the frame. Hanging there, suspended like some obscene trophy, was a black, slick, rubbery mass shaped vaguely like a teardrop that might once have been human, bent backward in an impossible posture, hands joined to feet as if they had been melted together and one end of the chain looped through them to suspend it. Huge breasts hung from it’s chest, swollen with black fluid that dripped through rubber hoses and collected in—of all things—a beer keg. More tubes had been placed in its mouth, between it’s legs, the navel of its hideously distended belly, anywhere there was an orifice to collect from. The thing shuddered every few moments and the flow increased, flooding past the tubes attached to it and dripping to the floor where three men knelt, lapping up ever drop. One of them was Pete, Claire’s sometime boyfriend she kept stringing along; the others she had seen before but didn’t know their names, an aging dark-skinned man and a geeky-looking student.

But the worst part was the face, oh god, that face was so familiar, the fact that it was the only part unchanged making the obscenity even deeper. Amy, moaning in ecstasy as she came again, pumping more of the black cum from the fountain her flesh had become, through the tubes and into the waiting keg. Her hair had become a single appendage, the slick surface fused to the top of her back, keeping her head pulled up, face turned to the light. Rivulets of black cum dripped from her eyes, her nostrils, seeped from the very pores of her skin.

A nude figure stepped from the shadows and licked one of the drops. “Hello, Megan. It’s good to have you here... with us.” Megan shuddered as she heard Nat’s voice, but not Nat’s voice at the same time. Some kind of nightmare, just a nightmare, please let me wake up, please... Megan thought as she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to will the sights and sounds and sensations away.

“It won’t work,” Nat whispered, her breath hot in Megan’s ear. “I tried, once... so long ago, it seems. Back before I knew the Voice, before She revealed my destiny... our destiny.” Nat stepped in front of Megan, her body slick with sweat, a shadowy furrow between her breasts in the harsh incandescent light. Nat licked her lips and leaned close, breathing in the scent of Megan’s fear. “This is no nightmare. This is as real as it gets.” Nat flicked out her tongue and ran it down Megan’s cheek, tasting the trapped girl’s sweat. “Mmmmm... so sweet...” she breathed. “But time grows short... and there remains much to be done.”

Nat stood as a freshly-stripped Tracy walked up behind her, a box in one hand. “You’ll want to see this.”

A muted scream tore from Megan’s throat as Tracy opened the box Nat pulled out a long hypodermic needle, the translucent barrel filled with a dark liquid. “Tracy is quite the chemist; she simply needed a chance to hone her skills in an appropriate environment. This little creation should have quite an... effect,” Nat said, raising the needle to eye level. She barely pressed the plunger, letting a few drops of black fluid drip from the tip. “Claire certainly seems to like it...”

Nat stood aside to reveal Claire standing there, her expression blank as she fondled her pussy, oblivious to the events around her. Claire rubbed her hand faster and faster, her knees buckling as she orgasmed, her inner thighs already soaked with her own juices. With her other hand she pinched her nipple hard, moaning as she began to masturbate once again, licking her lips as she looked right at Megan. “Of course, there were a few unanticipated side effects,” Nat continued. “Claire couldn’t form a coherent thought right now if her life depended on it. In fact she’d literally try and fuck her own brains out if we let her. Tracy’s first blend was a little... strong.”

Nat set the needle back in the box and removed a pair of small wire objects. “Don’t move. Wouldn’t want to do any unnecessary damage,” she said as hands Megan could not see touched her face, pulling away the skin around her eyes just enough for Nat to slide the speculum into her left eye, forcing it to remain open by holding up the eyelid. Megan cried out as the process was repeated with her other eye, until she had no choice but to look upon the sights before her.

With a snap of Nat’s fingers the three men abandoned their places beneath the thing that had so recently been Amy and surrounded Claire, their hands fondling different sensitive bits of flesh; a nipple tweaked, a thigh kissed, a finger rubbed up and down her slit. She moaned and reached for them, falling to her knees and taking the geeky-looking guy’s cock into her mouth, each hand curled around another hard cock as she sucked and stroked with abandon. Claire’s attentions were soon rewarded with a thick grunt from Lester as he grabbed the back of her head and spent down her throat, his cum dribbling from her lips as he pulled out and the black man replaced it with his own. Pete disengaged himself from her grasp and crawled beneath her, lying on his back, letting her find his cock and guide it into her tight pussy for the first time, fresh blood mingling with her juices as he slid all the way inside. Lester eased up behind her and pressed the head of his cock against her asshole, grunting as he slid inside her, balancing his thrusts with Pete’s, one sliding in as the other withdrew, a well-oiled sex engine that only made Claire want more.

“Let’s leave them to their fun, shall we? We can always join in later,” Nat said as she licked the needle and shuddered at the exquisite sweetness. Megan’s view shifted to the right and she realized that whatever she was strapped down to was on wheels as another figure came into focus. Jenny had been tied to a tube-frame chair with its seat removed, her arms bound behind her like Megan’s own, her legs also spread, her mouth filled with something blue and sealed with strapping tape. Racquetball. Just like mine, Megan thought dimly as tears began flowing down her cheeks like rivers. Nat pressed the plunger, forcing a few drops from the tip of the needle, letting them fall into Megan’s eyes where they mingled with the tears. Each one burned as it landed, filling her eyes with visions of lust that she could never have even imagined before, stimulating the nerves as the fluid was absorbed into her tissues and began to work its way along her optic nerves and up into her brain.

Julie and Tracy walked up to Jenny and began to fondle her, running their hands over her skin, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, sliding their fingers across her labia and over her clit. Behind her gag Jenny moaned, her own tears starting to flow even as her body began to respond to the stimuli. Nat watched for a moment as Tracy suckled one of Jenny’s tiny nipples, bringing it to hardness with a gentle bite. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Sweet... innocent. She should never have seen this day come. There’s no place in the world for the innocent anymore.”

And with those words Nat walked over and knelt in front of Jenny, gripping the syringe tightly as she pressed it into Jenny’s thigh, finding the femoral artery without difficulty and pressing the plunger home, loosing a flood of Tracy’s modified black cum into her bloodstream, beginning the Change without preamble. Jenny’s eyes rolled back as she began thrashing against her bonds, making the lightweight chair frame jump and slam back to the floor. The fluid insinuated itself down her nerve endings, burning its way across her brain, keeping what it needed and clearing away the rest in a purging fire. Moisture dripped from her pussy, pooling on the floor as a chain of orgasms rocked her body, driving the last vestiges of rational thought from her mind until, at last, her spasms ceased and she slumped forward, unconscious.

Nat smiled and stood, removing the racquetball gag and stealing a kiss from the girl’s slack mouth. “Better that time. She’ll make quite the plaything when she wakes up. Easily suggestible. Willing. Eager,” she told Tracy, sliding a finger into Tracy’s wet cunt as she did so. “We can have the whole batch ready by tonight... just in time for the party. What do you think?”

Tracy looked at Megan, her eyes hungry. “I think... I have one more variant to try. Something... different.” She walked over to Megan and smiled, placing a kiss on her nose. “In a way, I’ve been waiting all my life for this.” She pulled another syringe from the box... but this one was larger, an antique metal-and-glass creation she’d found hidden away in Lester’s lab that drove Megan’s thoughts into incoherent overdrive as she saw it. Within the barrel was a particular blend of modified black cum which had emerged from her complex mad-scientist apparatus with some quite unexpected properties. It bubbled and flowed within its confines, writhing around the barrel like a trapped animal... which, come to think of it, was exactly what it was. “I’ve created something never before seen on Earth... a form of life devoted to nothing but the pursuit of pleasure. It feeds off on the human orgasm, off the rush of chemicals the body produces at climax. All it needs is the right environment... and you’re the perfect match.”

“I know you’re confused... scared... especially right now,” Nat said as she walked up beside Tracy. “I know you’re in pain... but pain is fleeting. All things are temporary before Her power... and Her time is at hand.” Nat raised the item she held and “She is the Messenger, and her Word is simple: succumb to your desires, live out your fantasies, forever and ever, world without end... hallelujah.”

Nat pinched Megan’s right nipple a the same time Tracy’s tongue found her clit, pleasure and pain becoming indistinguishable in her mind as Tracy lifted the syringe and pierced her thigh, pressing it home and letting loose the creation inside. Megan could feel every motion of Tracy’s creation as she strained against her bonds, each quiver of the liquid careening up her nerve endings as they began to Change. Julie grabbed Megan’s head and pulled away the tape, removing the racquetball as Nat approached and said, “You might be my finest work yet,” she said in that voice that was Nat’s but not Nat’s, the Voice echoing in Megan’s mind as Nat leaned forward and kissed her, letting her tongue linger in her mouth, Oh, she tastes so sweet indeed -

The hunger is in her head now and it speaks to her, sings to her, screams at her: It’s unlike anything you could imagine, girl, over and over and over, each time getting better whether you like it or not... but you will... I know you will... you all will. Cum for me, girl, you don’t need to be touched but that makes it all the sweeter... under the hands of a man... under the tongue of a woman... stroking yourself with your own fingers or the pulsing spray of a shower head like you do every night... masturbating to the mental image of that night with Claire because she liked it, even though she’d never admit it... now you can have her whenever you want, your own little slut who wants nothing but to cum and cum and cum -

Megan moaned as her muscles went rigid, the bonds tearing into her flesh as her eyes went blank, her vision filled not with the horror show before her but a thousand writhing bodies in every position imaginable, each one fucking her simultaneously for eternity. Nat pulled back, satisfied that the girl was quite occupied with her own little universe of ecstasy.

Behind her the trio of men continued to take their pleasures from Claire. Nat turned to watch the festivities and was considering joining in when Cliff cried out, “Unh! Unh! Unhhhh!“ as he orgasmed, his cum flowing like a river down Claire’s throat. His legs bent and he fell to the floor, arms splayed out as he lay on his back, his cock softening, the gouts of cum spraying from it slowing to a trickle as his breathing slowed... slowed... stopped.

Tracy went over and knelt beside him, pressing two fingers to his neck. “He’s dead.”

And the first falls... the first of many, the Voice whispered. Sacrifices to the inevitable. Nat walked over and held his hand, the curio suddenly cool within her. We must dispose of the body.

“The tunnels will do, but someone’s eventually going to come looking for him... or one of us,” Nat said, feeling the warmth of the body start to fade.

True, the Voice replied. But by then it will be too late... and My Word shall be unstoppable.

Nat moved to help with the body, but the Voice spoke again, only to her, asking her a very simple question:

How many girls live on your floor?