The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“As you can see from the next slide . . .” Mrs. Hutchins thumbed the remote, collapsed in her well-cushioned teacher’s chair, head in hands, nudging her ancient powerpoint begrudgingly forward. The old projector rumbled, and the whole screen went blank for a second as its gears thought really hard about what to do next. Anxiously, like an old dog playing fetch, it brought back the next image of her presentation.

“Here we can begin to see the nucleus chaaange—” Dragging out the syllables. “—as the cell undergoes mitosis . . .” Mrs. Hutchins droned on in the same flat tired voice of hers.

Sue took notes and doodles in equal parts. It was clear Mrs. Hutchins had long ago lost her passion for teaching biology. Serious to the point of humorless, frumpy, and the increasingly senior science teacher. Her class was dark, sleepy, and right after lunch. Universally recognised unofficial nap-time.

Sue’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Stealthily glancing at it nestled in her sweater, she stifled a giggle. Amanda, her friend on the far side of the classroom sent her a snap. A selfie expertly capturing Mrs. Hutchins mid-phrase with the most dead-eyed expression Sue had ever seen.

“And on this diagram you see how the chromosomes are pulling apart—”

Sue was a good student and cared about doing well in class, but for the most part had very little understanding of what was going on. Mitosis as she understood it was the biological process of some color-coded squiggly pool-noodles dancing in a bubble. They came together, they split apart. Now there’s two of them. The circle of life, it didn’t look that complicated.

“During the prometaphase—” Mrs. Hutchins broke off mid sentence, seeing something outside the window.

Sue turned to look, but snapped her eyes back to her notebook as soon as she saw.

Outside the window, Kary White was slowly floating through halls.

Just don’t think about her. She’s not real. She’s not REAL-

Well . . . I mean she is real . . . just don’t think about it. Think about something. Sue studied her notes. Oh yeah mitosis, yes, very interesting.

“Uhhh as I was saying . . “ Mrs. Hutchins gulped, visibly nervous, stuttering and blinking through the slides trying to remember where she left off. Shuffling around papers on her desk haphazardly.

“Mitosis! and DNA are . . .”She was a mess. Clicking through the slides at a crazy pace.

Kary seemed to press her face against the window, as if trying to look in. Of course she couldn’t her face just phased through the glass—but she made the motions all the same. As if she were searching for something. Her cold shining eyes peering through the glass.

“When cells are going through mitosis they uh . . they tend to—” Ms. Hutchins sat up straight in chair, brought a more officious tone to voice. For some reason announcements for a school dance had made their way into her slides. A look of pure terror passed over her face.

Next week was the anniversary of the school dance and Kary had the whole school on edge. She had been blowing into campus the last few days as if washed in by the tide. Looming about the halls, clutching a corsage to her chest and weeping. She wore a sash that read: “Prom Queen!” and every inch of her was stained red. Her hair wet and clumpy with blood.

Of course there wasn’t a dance scheduled for that day anymore. Nobody wanted a reminder of the terrible things that happened. Since the incident, school dances kind of left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. Honestly, we should probably cancel school altogether that day. Just declare it a local holiday.

What a gruesome way to die . . . poor girl . . .

Kary’s wispy alien body phased through the wall. FUCK- Sue whipped open her textbook and began to read. ANYTHING.

Mrs. Hutchins squeaked with fear. Pinching her eyes closed, trying to recite a mantra to herself. Breath. Count to ten-

Kary splattered blood beneath her as she gently gliding eerily slow. Scanning the room with a hopeful, horrible, stricken expression.

Just don’t look at her. Just don’t look up at her. Just pretend she wasn’t there. It didn’t matter how terrible she was. Or how unreal it was. Or how messy and awful and frightening she was. Just don’t look at her. Just don’t look-

“Can anyone- uhh . . . can anyone tell me . . . what this is?” Mrs. Hutchins stammered, standing in front of a graphic picture of menstruation.

Everyone in class looked away. Searched for a pencil in their backpacks.

“Anyone? Anyone?” Ms. Hutchins pleaded, looking all around the room except at the floating spectre of Kary White, blood oozing from her ever pore.

“Sue?” Ms. Hutchins called, pulling her name from a jar of popsicle sticks with her name written on it.

Kary’s eyes settled on Sue, whooshing forward in a robotic single-minded march. Globs of clotted black fluid trickled down her wrists. Her pale legs brushing over the backs of students determinedly looking down at their papers, and busying themselves with nothings in a desperate bid to avoid noticing her.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look at her. She not there. She’s not coming towards me. She’s going to someone else.

Sue read her textbook so hard it hurt. Her hands shaking with concentration. Mitosis occurs exclusively in eukaryotic cells. Mitosis and cytokinesis together is defined as the mitotic (M) phase of the cell cycle—”

Sue could feel Kary’s breath on her neck. Her icy, piercing, frosty breathembedding into her skin like shards of glass. Her shadow falling over Sue like a wet blanket.

-REPLICATED CHROMOSOMES ARE SEPARATED INTO TWO NUCLEI. CELL DIVISION GIVES RISE TO- someone was beating drums in her ears. Banging symbols. Tearing into a violin—ripping into the strings.

She could hear her heart pounding in her chest and stupid panicked mistakes reading the page kept piling up—the words swimming like her eyes were on fire. It took more than her mind had to give—examining and re-examining the words and focusing on them so intently—NOT thinking about the terrible grizzly phantom coiling her cold dead hands around my neck -

“GET AWAY!” Sue gave a panicked shriek and tried to fling herself out of her chair—looking Kary straight in the eyes. In her giant headlamp eyes. Her two terrifying gleaming jewels of blasting white light. Blinding whirlpools blazing spotlights of shining, screeching horror.

Sue felt like her blood had been replaced with bracing wind. Something nasty and terrible was happening. This was the apocalypse, her worst nightmare. A bleeding slack jawed ghost grabbing her by the shoulders and screaming into her face right in the middle of class with no one there to help her—the ghost’s harsh penetrating laser eyes boring holes in her skull. Looking into her eyes, it was like Sue could feel her peeling away the layers of her mind.

She was falling. Twisting and turning in a vast illimitable ocean of absolute nothingness. A staggering white emptiness that stretched on forever. Screaming so loud and crazy her lungs threatened to burst. There was nothing and noone and she kicked and flailed and yelled herself horse in an abyss of time and space where no one heard her and no one cared.

“SUE PERKINS!” Mrs. Hutchins snapped, whipping her ruler against the desk. “Are you sleeping in MY class?”

“Huh? Uhhh . . .” Sue pulled her head off the desk and out of the puddle of drool forming on top. “No I was . . .”

“OMG! She’s masturbating!”

“GROSS!”

“No way!”

A frenzy of faces turned in astonishment and soon a flurry of chattering students pushed their desks to face her.

“NO I’M NOT!” Sue shouted defensively—but she was.

Oh god, she was! Her hand buried deep in inside her underwear. Skirt hiked up around her waist. Panting and grinding her crotch against the rough texture of the plastic seat. Oh god, her pussy was achingly wet. Her clit a swelled up and demanding attention, her fingertips lightly beating it back and forth.

“Take your hands out of your pants this INSTANT young lady!” Mrs. Hutchins towered over Sue, her voice mean and authoritative.

“I- . . . I can’t!” Sue couldn’t stop rubbing herself. Couldn’t resist flicking her clit and grinding her hips and pushing her fingers deep inside herself. Even with everyone staring, everyone looking and snickering. Their excited jeering faces twisted with cruelty.

“I can’t believe she’s touching herself—”

“IN CLASS!”

“What a whore . . .”

All the boys were looking at her glinty hungry looks and the girls with undisguised malice. All of them sneering and ogling her.

“Perhaps miss Perkins could help us with our NEXT slide hmm?” Mrs. Hutchins clicked her remote and the old carousel style slideshow rotated to the next image, a picture of some pleather-clad street walker, stalking a dirty alleyway labeled with the caption: ‘SLUT’.

Mrs. Hutchins smile rolled along her upper lip a degree or two higher than before, giving way to a smug, self-satisfied grin. Delighting in [Girl]’s misery, savoring her inability to pull her fingers away. Watching her quake and squirm, unable to stop the bubbling lightheaded feeling of impending orgasm from overtaking her mind as she squeaked and moaned in front of everybody. Her pussy clenching and squeezing and fireworks going off in her tummy.

“A slut is a BAD girl who touches themself.” Mrs. Hutchins continued, ignoring Sue’s embarrassment.

“SLUTS show off their bodies and defile themselves with boys . . .” Mrs. Hutchins was one to talk. All the boys in school were completely ‘gahgah’ over her. Just because she wore low-cut tops and tight little mini-skirts and thongs that would ride up her backside every time she bent over. The guys all boasted endlessly about how awesome it would be to grab her tits or slap her ass or cum all over her face. She was the hot new teacher on campus and everyone knew it.

Sue was too horny to breathe and just grit her teeth as she came all over the floor again. On the projector screen they were supposed to be taking notes about how during puberty boy’s pensises get all big and silly looking and step-by-step instructions how to apply condoms with your mouth.

“What is she doing?”

“That’s called an orgasm.” Mrs. Hutchins calmly replied. “Good girls only have them with their husbands. This is god’s way of calling you a whore.”

“Disgusting!”

“EWWWW!”

“Is she peeing herself?” Other girls from class held up their noses.

“No, that’s vaginal discharge. Only truly depraved women cum like that. It means she’s a tramp. Slut’s like Sue here, get off by teasing men. They’re all scandalas homewreckers, desperate to get bent over and fucked full of babies.” Mrs. Hutchins read allowed from a teacher’s edition textbook entitled: Sex is Bad and You’re a Goddamn Trollop.

“Her face looks so ridiculous.”

“Of course it does, she’s a SLUT. She fucking loves it.”

The room burned unnaturally hot. Sweat pouring down her face, her breathing labored and panting. All the while touching herself. Uncontrollably fingering her tight little hole and pleading to whatever god could hear her not to cum again. That it couldn’t possibly happen again. Not after she just came three times already. Surely her body didn’t have it in her for a fourth or a fifth.

But it did. It always did.

There was always yet another climax hidden below, lurking and ready to pop out. Rising up in her belly like a rollercoaster, ratcheting inexorably upwards—into the clouds, into the stratosphere, into fucking outerspace where it exploded in her mind with the intensity of a nuclear bomb. A cataclysmic explosion of fire and noise, raining down embers for the next attempt. She came so hard she felt like she was dying.

The ground and the chair beneath her were soaking wet. She needed to pull off her panties and shed her skirt, they were both absolutely ruined. Sue had no choice but to sit up on her desk were she could lean back and pump her pussy more easily. The humiliation stung, but so was the immense feeling of relief that swept over her as she assumed a position more people could see.

“She’s so fucking wet.”

“I can smell her—”

Even her friend Amanda joined the throng of faceless bullies surrounding her on all sides. Watching her touch her sinful places. Feel her clitoris burn.

Mrs. Hutchins flicked through more of her slides, “And on the third date . . . that’s when it’s appropriate to switch from holding hands or making eye contact to a nice consensual peck on the cheek.”

“When do you get to start making-out!” Shouted a girl from the crowd.

“Kissing is something married adults do. ‘Making-out’ as you called it, is something only horny rutting teenagers and classless whores do in HELL. Would anyone like to practice?” Offering Sue’s body up to the class. All sorts of hands shot up.

“Oooo! Me first!”

“No me!”

“I raised my hand first!”

There were even a few girl’s hands up. Mrs. Hutchins made a big show of trying to decide who to pick—but ultimately chose Griffin, captain of the football team.

“Why don’t you show us how it’s done.” She said with a wink and a giggle.

“Okay!” Hopping out of his chair and striding confidently towards Sue.

“Wait! I’ve never—” Sue started, but his lips were already on her. Girl had never kissed a boy. Definitely not Girffin! the star quarterback and smooth hunky dreamboat she never dared talk to. He was always surrounded by the pretty girls and the cheerleaders and the popular crowd. All she ever got out of him was an occasional smile when they passed in the halls.

Griffin was such a goooooood kisser. Snuggling up against his face was hot and easy. Fencing with his tongue, feeling his warm body pressed against hers. His enormous strong hands holding her tight. When he pulled away she was breathless.

“Oh man, she’s terrible!” He smirked.

“HEY!—”

“Let me try!” and before she could say no, another boy kissed her. He was Mitchel—Sue’s longtime neighbor. She had no idea he felt that way. He was also a very good kisser and Sue came helplessly in his arms. Her hands working furiously inside herself.

“OMG! Look at her nipples!”

“They’re getting hard!”

“What a slut—”

Shame burned bright on her face. Eyes closed, kissing a boy she had known for years in the middle of class, cumming herself stupid. Somehow she knew this was all her fault. Last summer her boobs just decided to double in size and everybody started acting crazy around her. She used to be flat as a board with absolutely nothing, and now, she had great big stupid titties and they made her head all soft and fuzzy when she stroked her nipples in the shower imagining all the gross stupid guys from school magically wising up to how amazing and cool she was and maybe playing with her new titties also.

“Why isn’t she wearing a bra?”

“Sluts don’t wear bras.” Mrs. Hutchins answered while massaging some of the waiting boys, soothing their erections with her hands.

Sue’s mom told her only BAD girls wore bras. Only slutty tramps looking to truss themselves up for men wore bras. Whores and street walkers looking to show off their tits to boys wore bras. Knocked-up sluts wore bras. Do you want to end up like your mother?! Do you, KARY?!

“Why don’t you give them a feel?” Mrs. Hutchins directed the curious girls. Soon their small gentle hands were all over her. Kneading and caressing her breasts, playing little games with her nipples. Lightly pinching and teasing them with their fingers.

“I think this is turning her on!”

“No way—”

“Holy shit she’s wet!”

“No- . . .no, I’m not—” but her own fingers were drenched in oil, slick and syrupy from playing with herself. A splash zone of wet drippings flung out in front of her. The girl’s hands, kissing boys, her own fingers driving her mad.

“Lemme try!” A girl named Chrissie pushed Mitchel aside and kissed Sue right on the mouth.

There was no time to rest, to think. Chrissie was so different from the boys. She smelled like honey and flowers. Her hair was soft and velvety, her cheeks clean and warm. She tasted different and her chest rubbed tantalizingly against her own. It was all so sudden and unexpected and wonderful.

“OMG I think she likes it!”

“What a lesbian.”

“I wanna try.” Chrissie was replaced by another girl. This one stronger, more insistent. She smelled like lavender and cream. The girls around us pulled off Sue’s shirt and laughingly began to suck and play with her nipples. Hands replacing hands. Some big knuckled boy was plugging her hard somewhere down below, her own hands reaching out, feeling parts. Her mind on fire with pleasure.

“What a dyke!”

“I always knew she was a lesbo.”

Their faces broke away.

“Where . . . “ Sue looked around confused. People were moving around and she realised she hadn’t stopped kissing, hadn’t stopped cumming and making out with everyone, for several minutes. All around her Sue could see the other girls, kicking off their panties, making out with boys, giving handjobs and tittyfucks to big dicks shooting big buttery ropes of cum all over their clothes. All of them just out of the teacher’s sight.

The hypocrisy of it made her blood boil.

Girls were stripping, applying fresh condoms to hardened slobbering boys and getting fucked in the ass—but still Mrs. Hutchins only scolded Sue. Only paid attention to what SUE was doing.

Right behind her, the most bitchy popular girl in the whole school was sucking dick and letting the football team cum inside her one after another. Mrs. Hutchins didn’t seem to care. It was Sue that had trespassed. Sue setting off the boys to act like horny apes. She was solely responsible for putting herself in a situation where of course all the boys were going to tear off her clothes and fuck her silly.

She tired to get up. To lift herself from the desk, but was blocked by her friend Amanda kneeling over her face, her panties kicked away.

Amanda’s pussy was dewy and with a few peachy blonde public hairs glistening and stuck to her skin. It was red and puffy. Her swollen folds unfurling. She had a look on her face that said: ‘Eat it’.

Sue stuck out her tongue, slowly at first. Unsure of herself, not knowing what to do or expect. She buried herself roughly into her friend, felt her nose push up alongside her clit and began to lap away at her wetness. Amanda was dripping. She tasted incredible.

“What a SLUT—”

Sue could feel strong masculine hands pushing her legs apart, supporting her ass and holding her up. She could feel their unprotected dicks push their way into her. All she could do was squeeze and squirm. Her body short-circuiting with joy. Her legs were shaking. Her tummy was shaking. Her chest heaving, thrashing this way and that. Head and tongue vibrating, eyes shut, savoring the sensation.

Above her Amanda was screaming and gripping her nipples through her shirt. Could feel powerful hips slamming against hers. Several feet of maddeningly delightful dick ramming into her, coaxing her helpless spasming pussy to spill out more girl juices again and again. All around her people were laughing.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRINNNNNNGGGGG!!!

The bell rang and class was dismissed.

NOTES:

“Welcome back!—” [Mom] called from the laundry room hearing the front door open.

“Hey—” was the weak response Sue tossed out before scampering upstairs to lock herself in her room. Stomping to the stairs [Mom] barely caught her in time.

“How was school today?”

“FINE.” Sue turned to head back upstairs again.

“Are you staying for dinner tonight?” Mom asked innocently enough.

“No- I . . .” Sue stammered. “I’m going over to Amanda’s later.”

“Hmm . . .” [Mom] murmured, disappointed. Sue and Amanda were spending a lot of time together these days. Some kind of last minute science project that had her staying nights over at their house.

[Mom] thought she heard Amanda’s parents were alway this week but didn’t want to challenge Sue about it just yet. [Mom] trusted her daughter.

Though she was spending a lot of time these days locked in her room, playing the loud music and ordering secret stuff on amazon.

“Well gimme a call later okay?” Releasing her from her spell.

“Okaaay.” Sue tromped back up the stairs.

“Love you.” [Mom] said.

“Love you too.” Sue replied, closing the door behind her.

[Mom] returned to the laundry room where the washing machine beeped impatiently. Sue was growing up so quickly. It seemed like in just the last week [Mom] noticed Sue’s chest was a lot bigger than she remembered it. It didn’t feel that long ago dragging her to the mall for her first training bra. It wasn’t until just a few days ago, [Mom] noticed how she had doubled or even tripled seemingly overnight. That little exchange on the stairs was about as much conversation as she could expect these days.

“WHO HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING, YOU SKANK!” [Mom] brought her hand down hard on Sue’s ass.

“NO ONE!” She wailed through the tears.

Her ass was red like a monkey’s and glowing with heat. Her sodden pussy leaked down to her toes and the drier had her whole body trembling uncontrollably.

“WHORE!” [Mom]’s bare palm lashed against her exposed lips. Pain whipped through her like an electric current. Shocking her whole body. Her lips prickled with sensation, burning and squirting. Her ass sparkling and tender.

“I’m not- I don’t” Sue began but [Mom] pushed the vibrating wand into her cunt, sandwiching her clit against the rumbling drier.

Sue couldn’t do anything but scream her lungs out and cum herself crazy. The scorching hot metal of the machine shot a bright clear beam of agony, her hips thrashing to get away—but [Mom] followed her movements viciously Attacking her clit with the wand. Sue couldn’t think, wasn’t capable of any higher function than escaping her current torture. Her body came mechanically, her mind shaking out positive neurochemicals at a crisis rate and when they came pouring out in the next big batch the whole world turned colorful and nice.

The pain, [Mom]’s hand crashing down on her butt, chemically transformed itself into the most incredible sensation of cumming and that was good. Like a black and white universe blown into color, helplessly driven out into full vividness, draining back down only to inevitably rise back up again. Just as vibrant and amazing as before. It felt good. It felt so fucking good. Was soooooooooooooo goooooood-

“Hello? Sue?” A timid voice called from outside in the foyer. “Anyone home? Mrs. Perkins?”

Straightening up, [Mom] tied the gag on tighter and was back to her prim proper self. “Yes? We’re in here sweetie.”

“Let’s see what Mitchel thinks about this.” [Mom] whispered. “What would he think if he saw what a disgusting SLUT you are?”