The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’ll skip over the next two days, because you probably want to hear about me getting books and a bed assignment even less than I want to tell it. I was put in a room which I’d be sharing with two other students, two guys who were my own age, but since they were both away on vacation or on assignment or whatever, I never saw them so it made no difference to me.

The way things worked out, there hardly seemed any point in having the room all to myself. That bed might have been of interest if there had been someone to share it, but the school was mostly full of toddlers and little kids. And even if there had been a likely body among the student body, I was being a good little boy like I’d promised. I didn’t use my powers. There wouldn’t have been much fun in, say, giving some little boy an unreasoning terror of me through psychic means...not when I could have achieved the same effect by jumping out at him in the hallway and saying “Boo!”

And besides, there was my dark-skinned goddess to think about. She was one of the teachers here, and it turned out she really had been a goddess. Well, in the sense that some tribe had actually worshipped her as a goddess before the headmaster came along and recruited her. I agreed with that tribe. I wanted to worship her too.

At first I just followed her around with puppydog devotion, smiling a lot whenever she looked at me, and trying to keep my thoughts clean. I found out that she wasn’t a mind-reader at all: her special ability was to make it rain. Nonetheless, I think she had a pretty good idea what I was thinking.

Two days after I arrived, I hadn’t seen the headmaster again since our meeting in his study. There was something happening in Washington and it was occupying all his time and attention. My personal goddess was essentially running the place and keeping an eye on the kids, with other adults filling in for her when she needed a break. This particular afternoon, most of the students were off on a field trip with the school doctor (or something like that) to visit the Planetarium or the Museum of Natural History or some other place that sounded boring. I begged off, since I don’t like doctors or museums. So I just wandered the halls, poking my nose around.

I head the sound of thunder in the distance, but the sky outside the windows looked sunny. Right above my head came another sound, this time of rushing water, as if some pipes had burst.

I knew there was an attic or something up there. Before long I found the stairs leading to the attic, and the door at the top wasn’t locked, so I cracked it open slowly and peeked inside...

The uppermost floor was like a huge, wild, overrun greenhouse. Exotic potted plants filled the place, and each one was huge. And they were definitely getting enough water...because it seemed like a rainstorm was going inside the room. My head, inside the room, was soaked; the rest of me, on the other side of the door, was dry. And there she was in the center of it all. Stark naked. Swaying slowly and lazily, totally lost in blissful enjoyment of the water caressing her beautiful body. My rain goddess.

So I snuck all the way into the room, as anyone would have done, and hid myself between the two largest plants I could reach unobserved, and watched. The plants were these big tall things that were like small trees, but with some kind of huge tropical flowers instead of branches at the top. I think they’re called birds of paradise...which would be appropriate. She was glorious. A couple of times I was dazzled by flashes of lightning, but each time my vision cleared swiftly and I still saw that vision of loveliness. “Who’s there?”

I froze. I don’t know, maybe the plants ratted me out. Maybe she could talk with them. “Victor, is that you? I know you chose to remain behind, and no one else here would be willing to sneak in.”

I came out, my t-shirt and sweatpants sopping wet. “Um,” I said cleverly.

She came forward. She seemed to be totally unaware of, or unembarassed by, her nudity. But she was annoyed. “Victor, I did see how you were looking at me, and it’s very sweet, but...”

It was all too much for me. The embarassment of being caught, her condescending tone, but most of all that spectacular chocolate bosom glistening with beads of water. I reached out with my mind and let her feel good.

She smiled warmly. “It’s really very sweet, in fact. I’m charmed that you have a crush on me. You’re a very sweet young man, after all, and I can’t help but be flattered.”

That wasn’t quite right. I tried reaching out again.

“Very...deeply flattered.” Her voice went a little deeper, and her breathing increased. “It’s really alright if you want to look at me. I don’t see what harm it could do.”

Almost. Damn it, I knew how to do this. “You let lots of guys look at you...I mean, I mean, look at you when they were worshipping you? I mean, you said they thought you were a goddess?” And I pushed her mind is a slightly different way.

She felt a wave of loneliness. “In my homeland...” she began, with a look of sadness. I almost felt bad for waking up whatever feelings I’d just woken, but then I remembered I was about to make her feel a lot better. “I was always so aloof, so distant. I had to be. But the more one is worshipped, the less worthy of worship one feels...”

And then I cranked up the volume on her insecurity and doubts. She was all alone, very lonely, and she needed a friend. “Are you okay?” I asked with a look of total innocence. As soon as I spoke, I made sure she felt a wave of happiness, trust, affection. I was there. I was her friend. She was overwhelmed at my compassion and concern for her well-being.

“Oh, Victor...you’re a very sweet young man,” she said wistfully. And then I swung her back to feelings of hot, nasty, sexual yearning and lust. Her eyes automatically went down to my groin. Through the soaked sweatpants clinging to my legs, she could see the outline of my hard-on. Her pupils were dilated.

That was it. She was desperately longing, and I was right there...and as she reached out for me, and I felt those breasts warmly squeezing against my chest, and felt that triangle of snowy damp white hair pressing against my cock, I couldn’t help but give her a surge of pure joy and happiness and delight. It was exactly what she needed to tell her that I was what she needed, more than anything. She helped me get my soaked t-shirt and sweatpants off, both of us laughing.

It occurred to me that maybe someone who’d been put up on a pedestal and worshipped really needed to see what it was like from the opposite point of view. So when she looked at my naked body, I let her feel awe for me. Total blind adoration. Worship. Without having to be told, she dropped to her knees while I stood before her. Which was right where I wanted her.

I nudged her chin with an outstretched hand so that her mouth was at exactly the right level, and moved my cock towards her. Her expression was suddenly almost solemn, as if this really was a religious ceremony for her. And then I thought, is it possible she’s never sucked a guy’s cock before? “Open your mouth and let this inside,” I told her. “Be careful not to let your teeth touch it. I hate that.”

“Yes, Victor,” she said, as if in a trance, and did so.

“Now, let me feel your lips and tongue against it,” I continued to instruct her. “Like a long, slow kiss. Let my thing move in and out of your mouth. Yes, exactly like I was in your pussy.” She was a fully-grown woman with a woman’s body, but I hadn’t ever needed to give instructions like this even to fifteen-year-olds. Still, it was kind of cool to have her be so dependent on me to guide her, and she seemed to be a natural at blowing me off.

“That’s very good,” I assured her. “That’s ver—ah! Yes. Yes.” And I came like a goddmaned firehose. It was awesome. “Swallow it!” I tried to say. “Swallow it, you flithy little bitch!”

When I was done and she had swallowed the last mouthful, she looked up at me with wide eyes that were utterly tame, utterly obedient, utterly ready. For that performance, she deserved a reward. So I had her rise to her feet, then asked her, “Where’s your bed? Show me.” I honestly couldn’t see it for all the plants.

She took my hand like a small child leading a grownup, even though she was taller than I was, and led me to where a futon mattress sat resting on a wooden frame. At first I thought the mattress was sopping wet, then I realized she’d draped a clear plastic tarp over it. Of course; it made perfect sense that if you were the sort of person who conjured up a tropical rainstorm in your bedroom, you’d be prepared in advance to keep things dry. I pulled the tarp off, sending accumulated puddles of rainwater flying, and threw it to the floor. She watched passively, totally agreeable to whatever I might say or do.

“Get on the bed,” I told her. She did so, lying on her back and facing up at me. I gently pulled her legs apart so I could see her cunt. The lips were open and she was damp with her own natural lubricant.

“Do you know about touching yourself down there...um, for pleasure?” She nodded enthusiastically. I didn’t know if there was some special word in her native language for masturbation, so I was relieved. “I want you to do that to yourself, while I watch.” I sat down next to her on the bed and settled in to watch her act out my private porn movie.

Thank goodness she didn’t extra instructions on how to do that as well, or I would have been stumped. But she was obviously on well-known territory now. With her left hand hand, she inserted her index finger and middle finger into her vagina, then spread them into a V shape, like she was a hippie making a peace sign. The two fingers moved together and apart, opening and closing almost like scissors, with a rhythmic motion. Using the thumb of the same hand, she played with her clit. Meanwhile, her right hand was working on her right nipple, which had popped out like one of those thermometers they put into chickens. Yes, she was cooking nicely.

Then, with tremendous effort to form words, she looked at me through heavy eyelids and said, “Victor...will you...help me?” It took me a moment to work out what she meant, and at first I was annoyed that she was already asking me for something more. But then I decided that those nipples looked like fun to play with. Yeah, I was in the mood for that. So I reached across to her left nipple and pinched it between my thumb and forefinger. She gave a gasp as if I’d hurt her, but her eyes closed and her moans were clearly the lead-in to orgasm.

When I figured she was good and ready, I goosed her with extra levels of happiness and pleasure. She came with a tremendous scream...and it began to rain again inside the room. Hairs all over my body were standing up from the static electricity.

Afterwards, we lounged together in, of all things, a hammock. Not what I usually went for, but cozy. Besides, the bed really was sopping wet now. She was snuggled up with her arms and legs wrapped around my body, one hand caressing my bare, hairless chest. Her expression was one of almost dopey happiness. She was completely smitten. “Victor,” she cooed, “That was so marvellous. Never have I felt such happiness, such fulfillment! Stay with me, stay with me and...”

It was easy to see where that was going. I decided it was time to be somewhere else. But I knew how that worked too. “Sshhhh,” I said, putting a finger gently on her lips. She kissed it. “I think we both just needed some company. That’s right, isn’t it?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling nothing but trust and admiration for me.

“I had a really nice time,” I said. Her expression softened as she felt passion fading away, replaced by contentment. “I guess I had better go, before someone catches me here.”

She smiled, and we helped each other out of the hammock. “I’m glad you came to see me, Victor.”

“So am I,” I said. I gathered up my wet clothing and left her room, knowing that she felt no more desire for me, merely the affection of a teacher for a favorite student. She’d had a pang of loneliness, and then a quick romp with a willing partner had cured it. She was also a little embarassed at having seduced a young boy...and that was just how I wanted it. The headmaster wouldn’t be peeping into the minds of his teachers to find every little embarassing thing; he was much too prim and proper an old woman for that. I’d never have to worry about this getting back to him. Or so I hoped.

And then I laughed, because it occurred to me that right now, she might even be thinking I had been a virgin!