The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Janus Coins: John’s Story

Act 1, Chapter 4

When I woke up in the morning, I felt Shannon’s lips wrapped around the base of my cock, her head slowly bobbing up and down on my morning wood, to my complete and total surprise. She looked gorgeous in the morning light, although when I glanced at my watch, I realized that I was being generous with the term ‘morning,’ seeing that it was almost noon. Between the drinks and the general party atmosphere, as well as the fun sex that we’d had the night before, I guess the two of us had just both felt like sleeping in. It was a Wednesday, but basically every teacher on campus knew that if they were teaching to upperclassmen (i.e. those of us of drinking age), and they had a class the day after Saint Patrick’s Day, it was best to make that particular day one where attendance wasn’t mandatory.

For most of my fellow students, it was their first big collective drinking night, and they really weren’t prepared for the morning after. Lots of them had turned 21 over the course of the school year, and while they’d gotten drunk in small pockets, there was something about the collective power of a large group of people all getting wasted at the same time that gave kids the strength to plow on through, to throw up when they were past their limit and somehow soldier on to go for a second round once they’d purged. That meant the collective hangover in damn near every college town on that day was enough to bring most universities to a screeching halt.

Shannon was determined not to let me out of her bed without making one final impression on me, so her fingertips were cupping my nutsack, her head pushing down hard onto my cock, deepthroating me every chance she could get, making sure to make sloppy wet sounds each time she did, her throat squeezing at the tip of my cock each time she did.

My head must’ve been all over the place, because at one point she lifted her head, a line of my precum connecting her lips to my dick, as she smiled at me, snapping her fingers. “Hey! Hey! Look at me. Look at me, John... I want you to see me looking at you when you cum down my throat.”

Her thumb and forefinger pinched near the base of my cock, and she started to bounce her head even faster and deeper, but true to her word, she was doing her best to keep her mouth locked around my cock, groaning and humming along it.

“Shit, Shannon... I’m... I’m gonna...”

Instead of giving her pause, it was like I’d told her the goal line was close, and she was rallying for a big finish, bobbing her head on just the tip now as her tongue spiraled around it, until sure enough, my body tapped out and I came into her mouth like I’d been dying for a release.

She made a big point of me seeing her swallow it before she smiled, running a couple of fingers over her face, making sure she hadn’t missed any of it, licking her fingertips clean of any of my seed that might have slipped from her lips accidentally.

“I know I didn’t have to, John,” Shannon said to me as she stood up, her curvy form still completely nude. “But I like swallowing cum. Guys have always said I’m a little chubby, so I’ve had to work twice as hard to keep boys attention.”

“You’re gorgeous to look at, Shannon, so any guy who couldn’t appreciate you as you are is a complete fuckup who didn’t deserve you,” I told her as I got out of bed with her. “Regardless of however all this shakes out, you shouldn’t settle for anything less than someone who makes you happy. All of this is super weird I guess...”

“Not really that weird, no,” Shannon said with a laugh. “I mean, maybe weird that we’re both so open and honest about it, but girls compete for a guy’s attention all the time.”

“Sure, but they don’t both usually take turns fucking the guy do they?”

“Oh, John,” she giggled. “You’ve got so much to learn about women. Me and Teresa’ll be fine after you’ve figured out which one of us is better for you. We’ve, well, we’ve sort of done this kinda thing before, although we were a lot less upfront about it.” As we were talking, she grabbed a pair of large powder blue panties, pulling them on before finding a matching bra, getting that on as well. “She and I fought over Derrick, actually, although that certainly didn’t work out how I thought it was gonna...” she grumbled.

“Do I even want to know what you mean when you say ‘fought over?’” I asked her.

“Oh it wasn’t that bad,” she laughed, shimmying into her jeans. “Me and Ter both met him at the same speed dating event, and he scheduled follow up dates with both of us. Ter thought she had a lock on him after her first date with him, but then he went on his first date with me a couple of days later, and we hit it off fast, so she backed off, and I dated Derrick for about seven months before we just super ran out of gas. I mean, I was making sure he and I were getting down regularly, but I guess it wasn’t enough, or maybe we just had a shelf life nobody told me about.” She pulled on a t-shirt for some campus activities group I’d never heard of, then tossed me my shirt.

“Nothing lasts forever,” I said, as I pulled my Pogues t-shirt down over my head. “If it wasn’t working, it wasn’t working. Anyway, I better get back to the dorms,” I told her. “I’m allowed one night a week out of them, but I should check in on my guys, make sure nobody’s still in the bathrooms puking their guts out.”

“Aren’t most of the people who live in the dorms freshman and sophomores?”

“Generally,” I agreed, “but I’ve got a handful of guys on my floor who are just completely incapable of managing things like rent and cable and power right now, so they haven’t gotten their own places, even though they’re juniors. I’ve even got one senior, although Cal’s doing it just to save money, ’cause his family’s super broke.”

“I hear that,” Shannon sighed. “Yeah, okay, but I doubt Teresa’s up yet. Should I just tell her your dorm and room number when she wakes up?”

“Hang on,” I replied, grabbing a notepad Shannon apparently kept by the bed, tearing off a blank sheet before writing my name, my dorm building, my dorm room and my telephone number on it. “There, that’s everything she should need to track me down whenever she gets up. Tell her I didn’t want to wake her. I know what it’s like to need to be up ridiculously late for work, and she doesn’t need to get up early on my account.”

“She might be a little mad that you took off without waking her, but when I explain to her your reasons, I think she’ll be cool with it,” Shannon said to me, as I leaned in to give her a kiss. I was a little nervous about it, simply because while we’d been intimate, we hadn’t been overly romantic. I shouldn’t have worried, though, because she grabbed my neck and pulled me in, making sure the kiss was smoldering and full of heat. “And if she isn’t, well, you’ve got an easy choice then, because one of us is chill and the other one’s shown she can’t be.”

I grinned in response. “I guess that’s true,” I said, sitting down to tug on my socks and shoes. “Anyway, I really gotta go. There’s probably all sorts of shit to deal with post-St. Paddy’s Day.”

She glanced down at the paper, tilting her head to one side. “Wait, you’re last name’s Pedone?” she said, pronouncing it ‘pee-done,’ which made me wince a little.

“It’s pronounced ‘Pi-dun-nay,’ but yeah,” I laughed. “It’s Italian.”

“You don’t look all that Italian,” she said to me as we walked out of her room, heading towards the front door of the tiny house.

“Yeah, well, you look super Irish, and it works on you,” I laughed, kissing her one final time. “See ya.”

I headed across town and back towards the dorms, making sure to move quickly, because despite the fact that it was spring, the local weather hadn’t fully gotten that yet, and there was still much more cold weather lingering in the air than I or anyone else really wanted it to.

The trip over campus was like the school wasn’t basically even open. Too many kids at home, completely hung over, desperately wanting their ears to stop ringing or the room to stop spinning. It was 12:20 when I got back to the complex of dorm buildings around the cafeteria, and as much as I wanted to run in and grab a bite to eat, I knew they’d be serving lunch until 1:45, so I had plenty of time, and I had to make sure the floor wasn’t in utter shambles.

It was a good thing I’d come back when I did, because just as I was walking the floor, checking to make sure nobody had damaged fixtures or anything, Mikey Jones came barreling out of his dorm room, sprinting down towards the bathrooms, but just as he was turning into the tiles communal area, he let loose and started spewing chunks. I rubbed my forehead with a sigh before heading over to check on him first, then to grab a bucket and mop, so I could make him start cleaning it up, once he was done barfing, that was.

I went room by room to do a wellness check on everybody and found everyone in about the shape I expected them to be in—most of them were somewhat hung over, even though technically just about all of them were too young to be drinking. I didn’t ask how they’d gotten drunk, but wanted to make sure they were taking care of themselves, drinking water, vomiting somewhere they could control it (I remember seeing more than a couple of trashcans next to beds) and reminding them that the cafeteria stopped serving lunch within a couple of hours, and that even if they didn’t think they should, they should still probably try eating.

One that I was surprised by was that a number of my guys had ladies in their beds, and most of these guys hadn’t had girlfriends just as recently as a few weeks ago, so something had been giving everyone a bit more luck last night. Also, not to besmirch the guys who stayed in my dorm, but more than half of the guys I saw with girls were definitely punching above their weight class. These were mostly college freshman and sophomores, and sure, at that age, you’ll swing at anything you think you have a shot at, but I was starting to wonder if my own personal luck was rubbing off on the guys around me, because at least one of the hookups—a guy named Lucky Dibbern, who did anything but live up to his nickname—had pulled the kind of gorgeous woman who liked showing off to her new man’s RA, so she’d sat up in the bed, letting the sheet fall off her, showing one of the most perfect pair of tits I’ve ever seen as she smiled and waved to me.

I was a guy playing around with real magic coins, and I’m still not sure I believed in magic that strong. Lucky had two left feet, a country bumpkin upbringing and about as much sophistication as the Beverly Hillbillies.

I decided not to think about it too much, because I had a sneaking suspicion if I did, it was only going to break my brain, but over the years, I’ve noticed that’s a bit of a pattern, so it’s something you need to be aware of. Whenever you use the coin, there’s a sort of ‘ruboff’ effect for people who’ve been around in the 24 hours before you’ve used it. I know that sounds weird, like somehow the coin knows you’re going to use it before you do, but I’m being deadly serious with you here.

The people who’ve been hanging around with you in the day before you use the coin, after you use the coin, they’re going to get bursts of good luck of varying degrees for the next day. You don’t really have any control over how strong that luck is or what it’s going to do, so don’t think you can use it to go around and try to win the lottery or something, because I don’t think it’s ever been that powerful.

But in seeing that absolute angel in Lucky Dibbern’s bed, I knew the magic was bleeding out a little, because there was no other way that shit was going to be possible.

(The girl’s name was Caroline, like the song, and she and Lucky were still together when I graduated a few years later. I haven’t had the heart to look up whether or not they made it past then, because they genuinely seemed so happy together, and I’d actually be sad if it didn’t work out.)

Other than Mikey barfing partly in the hallway, the amount of chaos and carnage that had been caused in my absence was really quite minimal. There were some candy wrappers in the hallway, and a chain of toilet paper connected two of the room doors, but even that had a certain neatness to it. The bowl of free condoms I kept outside of my room had been seriously whittled down, but it wasn’t even knocked over.

Instead of engaging in hooliganism while I was gone, my boys had either just gone and gotten drunk, gone and hooked up, or gone and gotten drunk and then hooked up. I was actually kind of proud of them.

I headed down a floor to see how Marcie’s floor had handled it all, and it couldn’t have been more different. While my floor had been tame, Marcie’s looked like it had seen World War 3. There was puke over several parts of the hallway, and I could smell both urine and feces coming from one corner as I winced.

Marcie typically ruled her floor with an iron fist, so this level of mess was very atypical for her and her girls. It took me a couple of minutes to even find Marcie, but once I did, I understood a little bit more about how things had gotten to where they were. She had a bandage on her head, and her face almost looked like she’d been in a fight.

“Jesus, Marse, I hope you’re gonna tell me I should see the other guy,” I told her, finding her trying to wash what looked like glitter paint off one of the walls.

“Very funny, John,” she said. “I slipped getting out of the shower last night before I was going to go out and hit my head. Had to go to the hospital.”

“Shit, you okay?”

“Minor concussion, but they said I’ll be fine,” she grumbled. “But I came back here and passed out, slept through... well, all this shit!” She gestured at her floor. “I know you were on the calendar as out of the building last night, so I’m sorry if your floor looks like this too. I haven’t had the heart to go upstairs and check yet.”

“No worries, Marse,” I told her, flapping my fingers dismissively her way. “It’s all good up there. The boys were apparently on their best behavior last night, too busy hooking up to get into too much trouble.

“At least somebody had a good time then, I guess,” she sighed. “Any chance I can get you to lend a hand and get some of this cleaned up?”

“I can help out for half an hour or so, but after that I gotta go get lunch,” I told her. “I only eat off campus if I don’t have any other choice.”

“Sure sure, just grab a bucket and get as much done as you can without losing your appetite or adding to the mess.”

It wasn’t like it was what I wanted to do, but I felt like abandoning her in her time of need would’ve been a step too far, so for the next thirty minutes or so, I aided in getting her hallways into something of a better state, although I kept my distance from stuff that was too foul smelling, so I didn’t lose my appetite.

After that, I headed down and got some lunch, wondering when I was going to hear from Teresa, especially since Shannon had been so insistent that she was ultra-competitive. But it turned out it would be a few hours before I heard from her.

It wasn’t until early evening when I was back at my room when I heard a knock at my dorm room door, but by that point, I just assumed it was one of the guys from my floor with some other minor disaster they needed me to handle. Instead, when I opened the door, I saw Teresa standing there in a large brown trenchcoat, her hair done up in a ponytail beneath a Bud Light ballcap, her legs covered in those black fishnet stockings she’d been wearing last night, and her feet still in the kind of heavy ass Doc Martins that were all the rage back there. She also had on these wing-style, almost librarian thick black rimmed glasses covering her brown eyes. “Hey John,” she said with a wry smile. “Gonna invite me in, or just enjoying letting everyone on your floor know you’ve got a hot chick coming by your room?”

“They’re already tripped out that I’m not the typical ‘you shouldn’t be having sex’ preachy RAs like apparently a bunch of the other halls have,” I told her with a smile. “But, yeah, don’t stand out in the hall. C’mon in.”

“So...” she said with a laugh, stepping into my dorm room as I closed the door behind her. “How’d Shannon do? No no, wait, let me guess... good, but not great, way too worried that she wasn’t hot or that you’d think her freckles were weird.”

I nodded, moving over to sit down at the chair for my desk that was built into the wall. “That sounds about right. Don’t get me wrong, she’s lovely, but I was a little surprised she has that much of a confidence issue, considering she’s gorgeous.”

“I know, right?” Teresa laughed, moving over towards the couch. “I mean, if I had tits that big, I’d never, ever ever stop fucking showing them off. I gotta wear a push-up bra to get what little cleavage I’ve got, but I make up for it in other ways.”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“You want me to go easy on you to start, or hit you full blast right from the beginning? It’s your call; I can go either way,” she leaned her hip against the arm of the couch, reaching up to play with a lock of her jet black hair. “I’m not picky.”

“Why don’t you start a little easy, but don’t stay in 1st gear too long... once you’re ready to kick it up a notch, you should just do that.”

“You say that now, John, but...” She untied the belt around the trenchcoat and then slowly opened it before sliding it off, revealing that those fishnet stockings were held up by a garter belt, and beneath the coat she was only wearing that belt, black satin panties and a black corset with the laces done up the front, designed to push her tits up much like a specialty bra. She was slender, way more slender than I think I’d realized when I’d seen her at the bar last night, but it made her look elegant, not fragile, even as she draped the coat over my couch. “I bet you’re gonna wanna tap out before I do...”

“Only one way to find out,” I laughed as she started strutting over towards me.

“Don’t move,” she said, as she spun me around and unbuttoned my jeans, unzipping them and yanking them just enough for her to tug loose my cock, as she pushed her head straight down on it, because of course I was hard as a redwood the minute I saw her without the coat on.

“Wouldn’t daaaaaaare...” I said, the last word getting drawn out in a gasp as I felt her lips at the base of my cock on her first pass. She started to feverishly wobble her head in my lap, shoving her mouth down onto my dick over and over again, making loud, sloppy sounds each time, and while I was trying to keep my composure, this girl was way too fucking good at that for me to deny her. Much faster than I was comfortable with, I found myself cumming against the back of her throat, and she purred eagerly when I did, her tongue swiping to gather up each drop of it, not wanting to let any of my seed escape her mouth.

“I’m a way better cocksucker than Shannon is, aren’t I?” she said with a giggle, giving the tip of my dick a flick of her tongue.

“You’re definitely better, but let’s not get ahead of yourself,” I replied with a laugh, knowing full well I couldn’t lie when asked a direct comparison question. “And in no way was Shannon bad at this.”

“Oh, I know, I know, I get it,” Teresa said. “I don’t want to make her feel about it, but I was hoping she’d taken some of what I told her to heart when Derrick told her she wasn’t a very good cocksucker, because the dude just did not know how to help her.”

“You got me all winded, though,” I said with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take a break for a while, cuddle on the couch and shit, then after you think you’re ready for round two, then I’ll hit you with the good shit.”

“Someone’s certainly confident,” I said, as I tugged up my boxers and pants, standing up to move over to the couch, as she came with me.

We spent a couple of hours sitting on the couch just getting to know one another, but I have to admit, the fact that she wanted to be touching me the whole time was actually very nice, and probably swayed me a lot in her favor.

She was willing to talk about herself, but she also asked a lot of questions about me, what I was in school for, what I wanted to do after I got out, and when she found out I was a filmmaker, she insisted on watching all of my short films so far, and that ate up about another hour of time. She wasn’t just impartial or purely positive either, offering genuine critiques of things she didn’t think were working, or suggesting ways she thought they could get better, and she was dead right about not one or two things, but basically all of them.

As it turned out, Teresa was minoring in film studies, and that gave us a lot to talk about. Her major absolutely blew my mind—she was a biochemical engineer, and she was planning on going into environmental studies and repairs. I knew she was smart, but she was even smarter than I’d expected.

After I’d gotten my second wind, and we’d talked cinematography for like an hour, she told me she didn’t want to wait any more, and pulled the strings on the front of her corset to loosen it, then slide it off. She didn’t have large breasts, but it was in line with her slender figure, and her tiny brown nipples were rock hard against my lips as I rubbed her pussy through her panties, which she was tugging off, having shed her shoes and socks while we’d been cuddling on the couch.

Before I even realized we were getting into it, I found her on all fours on the couch and myself on my knees behind her. When I thrust inside of her, she had the tightest pussy I’d ever felt, and it was hard as hell to keep my head clear and not immediately pop off, something I think she could tell when she first looked back over her shoulder at me and giggled. “You’re thinking either I’m too small or you’re too big, aren’t you, John?” she asked.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” I genuinely asked, not because I was big, because of how snug it was, which made her giggle even more.

“You feel fucking great, John,” she moaned at me. “Like the perfect fucking size. Just drill me over and over again.”

She’d told me, like Shannon had, that she was also on the pill and clean, because when I’d gone to get a rubber, she’d practically smacked it out of my hand, telling me it would only ‘fuck up her plan.’ I didn’t know what she’d meant by that, but I found out soon enough.

The vice grip she had over my dick was relentless, and I tried to hold back as much as I could, but it was her show, and at the end of the day when she started shoving her hips back onto my cock, she was doing more thrusting than I was, because I just got caught up in the sensation of cumming inside of her itsy bitsy snatch.

Teresa laughed a little when I was trying to catch my breath, because she could feel me starting to soften a little bit, and suddenly she was reaching behind her to push her middle finger against my asshole, sliding that one digit in to goose my prostate, which made my cock throb hard again purely reflexively, as I gasped in suddenly. “Did you think I was done with you, John? I’m gonna win, and I’ll pull out every trick in the book to do it.”

“God, that was a weird sensation,” I said, “but whatever you did, I’m suddenly hard again.”

“Trick my big sister told me about,” she giggled. “Need to make sure you’re hard so you aren’t letting your cum leak out of me.” She wriggled her ass back at me, then shifted us both so I sat down on the couch and her ass was resting in my lap, her legs straddling mine. Then she slowly rotated, lifting one of her legs up and over my head, then lowered it back down, moving up onto her knees, so she was facing me, my cock still lodged up inside of her. “See? Now we’re ready for one final round for the day.”

“You’re optimistic,” I replied with a laugh. “I might be dry at this point.”

“C’mon,” she whispered into my ear, nibbling on it. “Don’t you want to fuck your cum deeper inside of my tiny little pussy? Don’t you want to put even more up there? Don’t you just wanna stuff your spunk inside of my cunt until you think it’s making my belly swell? ’Cause I want you to do that. I wanna feel one more load right up my teeny tiny Asian cunny... can’t you give me that, John?”

She was manipulating her hips in my lap like she was hellbound for leather, like she found a new goal and couldn’t wait to get what she wanted, constantly keeping herself in motion, making sure I was either kissing her or her neck, both of my hands on her hips, even though I didn’t have any real steering control in the moment.

Somewhere in the middle of it, she spasmed quickly and suddenly, then kissed me, laughing, before she picked up the pace again, and it turned out it was her third orgasm, and she thought she’d been too subtle about the first two (which she completely had been, because I’d missed them) and she wanted me to know how much she loved how she was feeling.

A couple of minutes later, I don’t know where I found the energy, but I was able to push out a third orgasm, and it just added to the cum I’d already tossed up inside of her, so by the end of it, I truly understood the term ‘creampie,’ because she was a wildly sloppy mess. She refused to go and take a shower until after it had had a chance to ‘settle’ inside of her, but once it had, she put the coat on, took my towel and headed down a floor to take a shower on the girl’s level before coming back up to my room, ordering us a pizza that she also insisted on paying for.

A week later, I’d obviously chosen Teresa, and thankfully Shannon wasn’t too upset about it, especially since I did my best to be as complimentary as possible to her in the process. We actually became pretty good friends, since her and Teresa stayed roommates, and eventually Shannon hooked up with Mikey Jones, the guy from my floor I was telling you about earlier.

They lasted longer than Teresa and I did, wildly.

Mikey and Shannon ended up getting married, but Teresa and I only made it a little more than a year, although it was a great year, one of the best years of my life. I spent a bunch of time hanging around the bar, and I directed my first longer(ish) short film, which was generating a little buzz for my skills, even though I still had a year left before graduation. If you’ve seen my film ‘Buoyancy,’ that’s based a lot on that year, and the character of Kelly is very much Teresa.

At the end of the day, though, Teresa was graduating a year before me, and she had a great job lined up for herself in Boston, and she refused to let me give up my dream of being a movie director, especially since she was such a big fan of my work, one of my biggest champions. In fact, I flew her out for my first Hollywood premiere. She’s married to a cop with an accent that’s like nails on my eardrums.

The breakup, like the one before it, had been very amicable. I decided against using the coin for my final year of classes, simply because I saw the writing on the wall about how I needed to be out of school before I was ready for a real relationship.

My last year, I stayed head down and applied to anywhere I could find work, and just before graduation, I got offered a job as a commercial director for a firm in London that had helped start the careers of directors I loved, like David Fincher and Spike Jonez, and directors I hadn’t, like Michael Bay and Simon West. But it was a starting point, and I was going to make my mark.

That’s how I ended up graduating and relocating to Central London in fall of 2000, and which is where the next phase of our story really starts, although I want to take a little bit and take a slight detour, give you a bit of information that I never got. Hang on, I’ve still got the email saved. So, keep in mind, Teresa didn’t tell me this until 2002, but I don’t think she was supposed to tell me at all. Or maybe it’s not explicitly called out that I can’t know this, but I think you might be the first bearer of the coin to know about it before it just randomly happened.

Anyway, let me just read her email verbatim to you...

Next: Intermission 1 — Teresa’s Change