The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Claire Lydon shifted uncomfortably.

Greta smiled. It was nice to see Claire shifting. The dowdy peach outfit couldn’t quite conceal the elegant lines of her legs, or the provocative swell of her C-cups. Her face, even under the clunky glasses, was striking — pale, the strong cheekbones dusted with an adorable scattering of freckles.

Also dusted with a tear or two at the moment, it looked like.

“So…yes, I…I…as I said, I teach English at Futman Girl’s School. And…well...oh, this is quite difficult!” She gave a little snuffle and her hand flapped vaguely.

Greta took the opportunity to pat her knee comfortingly. “Do not be embarrassed! Of course these things can be difficult to discuss. But you are doing the right thing to come to me. And you need,” she rolled the word lovingly, “you need to talk about what happened. This is part of the process.” She pulled a Kleenex out of the box on the desk and passed it over. “So…take off those glasses and let down your hair, and then tell me all about it.” She grinned. “All the steamy details, yes?“

Claire wrinkled her brow. Steamy details? That didn’t seem like a…professional way to put it? She thought about protesting…but instead she took off her glasses. She freed her hair from her bun and shook it loose. Her eyes were a lovely green. Greta liked the way the dress tightened against her breast when she reached up to untie her hair, too.

“Go on, now,” Greta said encouragingly.

“Well…it’s…I ran into an old student, Eva Esmerian…” Wait…she hadn’t meant to say her name, had she?

“Yeees,” Greta said. “I know Eva very well.”

“Uh…okay…so…I…like I said, I ran into her while I was out at swimming, over at the gym. And…well…we talked; I hadn’t seen her in a while. And she was very interested in how the school was doing—she said she might get her dad to make another donation. She…uh…she mentioned she was seeing you and you had been very helpful with, uh, giving her direction and…uh…discipline….”

Greta’s hand was on her knee still, she noticed. Or not really on the knee. Further up. Towards the thigh, a little.

The words started to spill out now without any more hesitation. It was almost like someone else was saying them through her.

“We went in the locker room. I’d noticed she had a kind of daring suit on; it had a zipper down the front, and it was white; when it got wet you could see through it. She has enormous breasts. Her nipples were rock hard. I didn’t want to notice, but you couldn’t not notice. I could see the aureoles. She’s got olive skin, you know, and the aureoles were very dark. I was a little embarrassed, but it was hard to look away, and then when we were both together in the locker room, still talking, she looked me in the eye and just pulled the zipper right down, all the way to her crotch almost. Then she reached in for her breast; I saw the zipper teeth trace over her nipple.

“There was a smell…heavy and sweet and hot. I’d never been interested in girls before at all. But those nipples were so big and swollen, and the smell was so , I…I just couldn’t resist. I licked it and it got even harder, so hard and huge. She told me to, um, suck like the hungry cunt whore I was, and I bit down and…there was milk in my mouth and she…uhhh,”

Greta’s hand was well past the thigh now. Her fingers brushed delicately at the entrance.

“Uhhh! She…pushed my suit aside and stroked my slit…I wanted her inside, I was begging her around her nipple, but she just teased me…”

“What a bad girl to tease you, when you are so needy and so scrumptious,” Greta said. Her hand slid smoothly all the way up between Claire’s inflamed and willing lips. The teacher whimpered.

As Greta skillfully finger-fucked her, Claire explained that she had come to talk to Greta because she was concerned about sleeping with a former student. Also about how out of control she had been, and how desperately she had cum. She worried that she wasn’t fit to teach her students anymore.

“Nonsense,” Greta said, as she stroked the clit till it felt hot and hard and huge, ready to explode. “You are very fit, and we will make you even more so. Maybe it will help a little if you forget Eva and her so tasty milk…just for a little while, hmm? You don’t need to remember this either,” she bent down to lick the clit, and Claire gasped, “but you will still be a good, loving teacher, yes? Eager to teach. Eager to discipline. Absolutely fit.”

She leaned down to suck the clit once more. Claire came in a way she had never, ever come before.

“Ay pilgrim,” Claire read, drawing out the line archly, “lips that they must use…in prayer.” She glanced over the top of the play, caught the eye of Becca—a short, curvy, dark-haired girl with a sweet, prominent nose—and winked. Several girls tittered. Becca, adorably, blushed.

“So let’s break into pairs and try reading those lines to each other!” Claire commanded. “And put some oomph into it, girls! This is some of the best flirting in literature; so let’s enjoy it!”

Claire walked around the room as the seniors giggled and blushed and batted their eyelids through the lines. Her performance seemed to have inspired them; they were all oddly…willing. Neela, a petite South Asian girl, actually reached out and touched blond Debra’s lips as she recited the lines “Palm to palm.” Debra gasped and then she and Neela both cracked up. Claire felt like gasping too…but not like laughing exactly. More like…

She wasn’t sure what. Ever since her meeting with Dr. Fockson, she’d felt oddly energized. The session had been unexpectedly satisfying. It had been soooo relaxing and pleasurable to hear Greta tell her that her passing moment of attraction for a former student (she thought again cheerfully about those nipples under the swimsuit, pouting and hard) was just an entirely normal expression of appreciation for a hot woman and her glistening lips.

Lips that should be used in prayer, she thought, suppressing a giggle. Fantasies were normal and Eva was very attractive and of course all this nervousness just meant she needed to loosen up and let herself swing free.

Which was why it made sense to wear the cute blue blouse today, unbuttoned down, down, down to her hot little breasts. And the nice, tight, short, leather skirt that hugged the curve of her hips. She’d just bought it; it was expensive and a little daring (like Eva’s swimsuit…) but as Greta said she needed to be a role model and not a repressed little bitch.

She smoothed it semi-consciously as she turned along the rows, her hand brushing against her crotch, which seemed oddly, pleasantly tight against the material as she watched the girls talking about prayers and palms and lips. She licked her own—and suddenly realized she had caught Becca’s eye again. The girl was positively flushed. Claire bet that even her substantial titties, hidden under the white school uniform shirt, were getting all red…and what about the bits under the tartan skirt….

The bell rang. Becca jumped like she’d been spanked. Claire had meant to give them their assignment, but it was more fun to just watch them all bustling and swishing. Debra, in particular, had a nice saucy sway to her butt as she left, still chattering with Neela…

Claire shook her head as the last girl straggled out. What was going on? She hadn’t given her class an assignment because she was too busy checking them out? What was she doing? And the skirt…she never wore clothes like this!

She needed to call Greta. Greta had said she’d help…but obviously things had gone awry. It was her break period; she’d call Greta and make an appointment. And then dear, sexy Greta would suck her…

Would suck her what?

She staggered into the break room, fumbling to button her blouse up. She felt completely out of control. Obviously, she needed to go home for the day and pull her hot tight leather skirt up and start just….

Candace, one of the social studies teachers, was the only one in the room. She glanced up from her coffee. “Hey…Claire? Claire are you all right?”

Claire collapsed into a chair across from her. Rather than buttoning up, she’d somehow undone another one, or two—her breasts rose and fell visibly. She didn’t really know Candace very well…but suddenly getting to know her better seemed like an interesting idea. She’d never noticed how smooth the other woman’s brown skin was…and never thought about those breasts, tantalizingly generous even under her loose print blouse. Maybe, she thought vaguely, we can have dinner together sometime, the breasts and I…

She groaned. Her crotch felt tight. Painfully tight. Her head was spinning.

“Claire!” Candace was on her feet now. Claire liked the knee-length dress; nice heels too. “What’s wrong?” She leaned forward and the loose neck draped down and there were the tits, smooth and brown and as big as promised.

“I think I need to f…” Claire stopped. What had she been about to say?

Candace was backing away now. “Just…you look sick, Claire. I’m going to go get the nurse. Just hold on, okay?”

She turned and walked quickly towards the door. Her hips and cheeks swiveled invitingly.

Claire felt something give inside her. Or down around her crotch. “Candace?” she said.

Candace turned back…and froze.

Claire was standing, her hair loose around her face, shirt hanging casually, bra cups visible.

What really caught Candace’s attention, though was the leather skirt, rolled up and back to reveal a large, thick, uncircumcised penis, standing meaningfully, even importunately, erect.

“I think…” Claire said. She sounded thick and drugged. “I think…I need to fuck you till you scream like a whore, Candy. I’ll feel better then, I’m pretty sure.” She jerked lightly at the shaft, directing it. Her back arched just a touch. “Is that okay?” She really sounded like she wanted to make sure. Her forehead was even furrowed in concern above those dorky glasses.

Candace was having trouble focusing. She had a very vivid image of Claire bending her over and fucking her till she screamed like a whore. She could almost feel the tip parting her lips, her cunt contracting hungrily. She shook her head and took a step…back? She seemed to be closer though…close enough to touch it.

“It’s…it’s Candace,” she said, with some effort. “Not Candy. My mom doesn’t even call me Candy anymore. And…I’m not a lesbian. I’ve got a boyfriend. With a dick. He would be upset if you fucked me till I screamed like a whore. He doesn’t want me to lick my own juices off your balls, no matter how much I need to.”

That last bit hadn’t come out quite right, but…she took a breath. “You…have a…giant penis?” It was a stupid question. But still, somehow, one that seemed like it needed asking.

Claire was still rubbing in a distracting way. She seemed to take the question seriously, though. “I…guess I do? I was wondering why that skirt felt so tight and hot against my crotch…”

With a little struggle, Candace prevented herself from repeating “tight” or “hot” or “crotch.” She took her eyes off the pre-cum, glistening on the tip. She took a step back, and actually went back this time, towards the door.

“Claire,” she said, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think I…I think you maybe need help? So…I’m just going to…head on out now, and you stay here with that very large penis and I will be…

Claire’s head titled quizzically. “Okay,” she said. Her hand even came hesitantly off the dick, which seemed like a good sign. “But could you do me a favor, first?”

“Anything,” Candace said. Or somebody said it. The breathy, little girl voice didn’t sound like her at all.

“Get a drink of water for me?”

Candace didn’t want to get her water. She wanted to get out of the room and probably out of the building and into her car and home before she fell to her knees and…did something regrettable.

But she found herself at the water cooler. Since she was there anyway, she pulled out one of the paper cups and filled it with water. She could feel Claire and her penis behind her, watching. She realized that she was gently swaying her sexy, big, hot, ass. She imagined Claire sliding her skirt up to get a better look… She turned around abruptly, cup in hand. A little of the water sloshed out onto her fingers.

“Here you go,” she said brightly, holding out the cup. She watched the penis carefully…so as not to run into it, she assured herself. Wouldn’t want to accidentally jam it up into her….

Claire shook her head. “The water’s not for me,” she said.

Candace blinked. “It’s not.”

“No. I wanted you to get water so you could pour it all over your naked titties.”

Okay, Candace thought, this is the last straw. She set the cup of water down carefully on the table. Then she lifted her blouse over her head. She tossed it aside with a little rebellious swivel, just to show she didn’t have to.

Her heavy breasts rested frankly in the bra. Her eyes still glued to Claire’s hand, now moving slowly up and down the shaft again, she reached back and undid the clasp. She shrugged out of it, letting her tits swing free for a second. The nipples were tight and dark and engorged against the darkness of her breasts. Then she picked up the water.

The first cold drop made her gasp, but she kept focus, distributing it evenly across her tits, dribbling it down one, then the other. She arched her back. Her nipples were very, very hard.

Claire ran her thumbs idly across them as she lapped the water off the top of Candace’s breasts. Candace was very aware of the dick pressed up against her, incredibly hard. Her hips rolled against it involuntarily.

“Claire,” she said, “please, I…uh…I…you’ve got to let me go. I’ve got a class to…I’ve got a life and a boyfriend and..uhhh!” She spasmed as Claire bit her nipple. When things were in focus again, Claire was looking directly into her eyes with something that looked a little like pity and a lot like lust.

“Sorry, Candy. You and your…mmm…hot little tits are just too much to give up. But” she smiled like she’d thought of something genuinely helpful. “You can still fuck your boyfriend when I’m not around! I know cock-whores like you need it all the time….turn around, okay?

Candace turned, sticking her ass out and bracing herself against the wall. Claire rolled the skirt up her hips. She pulled the panties down. Candace held her breath expecting the thrust…and gasped at the sensation of Claire’s tongue sliding up her slit. She pushed back desperately as Claire’s tongue wormed its way deeper. She felt herself clenching, the orgasm delectably close….

“Mmmm…you taste nice, Candy,” Claire said, tongue against her ear.

“It’s…Candace!” Candace said with a sob of frustration. She told herself it was because Claire wouldn’t learn her name, not because Claire had stopped licking her dripping cunt.

“No,” Claire said, nipping the ear. “Candy fits. Candy’s the name of a dick whore who thinks with her nice damp cunt lips. No more Candace. Gone.”

Candy felt a weird, distant worry — like something she’d been trying to remember had just slipped away forever. Her brain felt empty and open and waiting. Then her cunt lips parted and her brain parted and Claire’s giant member rammed into her and filled her all up.