The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Monica Ferrin had a lecture to give in two hours. She was a guest speaker at Gerrin Hall University, a fairly left-leaning university (by American standards, anyway) which had gathered controversy over the last month or so for its bold actions regarding transgender students. Now, at least as far as she would eagerly tell you, Monica Ferrin was no transphobe. She accepted everyone for who they were, after all! But you had to ask yourself why this had never come up before, didn’t you? When SHE went to college, none of the students made such an awful stink about this inclusivity stuff. She’d heard one of her colleagues describe transgender acceptance as a kind of cult once, and frankly despite the obligation that might come with her status as a left-leaning intellectual and as a gay rights activist, she felt strongly inclined to agree.

She didn’t really want to give this lecture. She’d honestly expected the school to either turn her down or cancel it. No matter, she supposed, she couldn’t really back down now. It’s not like she had anything to say that wasn’t true.

She sat in Ohio Hall, the name that somehow belonged to Gerrin’s cafeteria. The university’s naming scheme confused and annoyed her. Every building was named after a state, seemingly at random. She took a swig of rich, succulent hot cocoa and peered down at the sparse notes she’d prepared. Had she seriously expected to be allowed to give the lecture, the two sheets of paper on the table before her would be much more...organized. The chicken scratch writing on the papers sat disordered and aimless, a series of messily scrawled bullet points detailing her thoughts on the school’s developments. Some statistics here and there. She really wished that she hadn’t felt so confident the protests she heard happening at the school hadn’t gotten her visit canceled. The last time something like this happened, some Jehovah’s Witness antifeminist type of guy got eggshells splattered all over him as soon as he came onto campus.

She supposed that made sense, though. A bald, fire and brimstone old white guy who thought women had too many rights obviously wouldn’t be welcome anywhere with its wits about it. She, meanwhile, was a feminist. She was here to protect women’s rights, not tear them down. The thought put an easy smile on her face as she downed another mouthful from her frothy mug. Everything was gonna work out fine. As she set the mug down and delighted in the satisfying thud it made, she looked around the spacious cafeteria. There were lots of girls here. It wasn’t an all-girls’ school, but then her college hadn’t been one either; only her high school. She wondered how many of these young women would find what she had to say objectionable.

None really would, though, she was certain. Ms. Ferrin supposed it would be more accurate to say that she was curious how many would act the part of objecting out of a sense of obligation. Maybe half? Hopefully fewer. It really was a tragedy, she knew, that they felt so pressured to act the part that they advocated against themselves. And for what? A bunch of m-

“Hey.” A girl, about twenty or twenty one, sat confidently in the chair across from Monica. She had a vivid blonde ponytail (probably dyed? It almost looked more gold than blonde, especially in streaks she assumed to be highlights), a cute soft face sort of shaped like a rounded hexagon with ears that almost pointed up and out, clear sky blue eyes set pretty close to each other on opposite sides of a small short nose, and a small mouth with a much thicker lip below it than above. The girl had a light tan and lighter skin, sort of autumnal in color, and she wore cute flower-shaped earrings with bright teal petals seemingly made of glass. She was exceptionally pretty, Ms. Ferrin felt. This pleased her. Pretty girls feeling safe around her always did.

And the stranger definitely felt safe. She slouched into the chair, adopting a friendly and relaxed stance, and crossed her legs. At least, that’s what Ms. Ferrin assumed the noise was. They couldn’t see it, what with the table in the way. The girl wore a cute red t-shirt that did lovely things to her soft tummy and sizable, firm-looking breasts-and if that wasn’t enough, she wore two necklaces-one with a sparkly teardrop that fell to her solar plexus and a bigger one that ended in a bright pink, heart-shaped locket nestled firmly in her bosom. The girl sat a tray of food down and stretched, arching her back to push out her tits.

“Heyyyy, Professor Ferrin.” The girl half yawned, then shot her a playful wink. “The food here sucks dunnit?”

“I suppose.” Ms. Ferrin grinned and took another swig. “Who are you? A student here?”

“Yeah.” The girl took a bite out of a pretzel and scarfed it down quickly. “My name’s Erris.” She smiled. “Cheerleader, queer club treasurer, and full-time student.”

“Impressive.” Ms. Ferrin fought the urge to tease Erris about her choice of extracurricular. As much as she liked seeing girls branch out into male-dominated territory, when she got mad that they didn’t it made her look like one of those traitorous women who ran blogs about how suffrage was a mistake or vaccinating your kids was dangerous but still better than defying your husband. “Sounds like a fair bit to juggle.”

“Eh.” Erris shrugged easily. The sparkly necklace caught Ms. Ferrin’s attention. It caught the soft light of the cafeteria rather nicely. Rays from the ceiling seemed to get caught between the smooth edges of its scaly-textured exterior, scattered along its vertices, transformed into something beautiful…

“Yes, of course.” Ms. Ferrin blinked. What had she just agreed to? She took her eyes off the beautiful necklace to focus on Erris’ eyes. They were so big, so pretty, so soft. What could possibly have been more distracting…?

“Teehee!” Erris grinned wide and leaned on one fist almost...flirtatiously. The student’s eyes narrowed in that way that was lax and playful, like a lion at ease around its subordinates. That she’d actually annunciated the sound “teehee” into her giggle, with her voice, did not occur to Ms. Ferrin. “Yeah, I know. I get a loooot of attention from boys, wanted or not. Predictable, huh?”

“Yeah!” Ms. Ferrin nodded. Of course she did. Here was a girl with gorgeous eyes, positively divine boobs, soft skin, long arms, and as far as she could tell a toned and athletic body. It would be a miracle for someone like that to go a week without some form of harassment. “It must be so frustrating watching a bunch of men in sk—”

Erris started to finger idly at her necklace. Once more, its sparkle caught the teacher’s eye. Beads of light danced between its edges, and it seemed to cast tiny spheres of brilliance into the air which gracefully petered out only to be replaced by more. Ms. Ferrin trailed off mid sentence, transfixed. Her mind marveled at the beautiful lights. “Yes, Erris. Yes Erris, I’m sorry.” What was she apologizing for? Had she done something wrong? Ms. Ferris wanted to wrack her brain to find out but that could wait. The lights slid around Erris’ fingers like fairies dancing round and round the beautiful delicate fingers of their queen. She simply had to watch. “Yes Erris, I’d love to get to know you. Yes Erris, I’ll be a little late to my lecture.” Something felt...off. ms. Ferris was pretty sure she’d agreed to do something she shouldn’t have...right? She tried to reach back in time to what she’d said but it was already gone. When she tried to reach farther back she was pulled by instinct back to the present, to the sparkles. She sighed happily.

Ms. Ferris was in a dorm room. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was eating lunch with an adorable young lady. She tried to recall but her brain had no answers.

“Hey, Ms. Ferrin.” The woman turned and saw Erris setting her locket down on a humble desk just in time to watch the blonde turn and face her. Sure enough, she had big birthing hips and hefty, powerful thighs. Her skirt was a bit short for such a pretty girl to be wearing around men, Ms. Ferrin noticed, but for some reason she couldn’t muster any reasons why that would be. “Now, you’re probably wondering some stuff, like. How’d I get here? What are you doing? Where’s your roommate? Well, I’m not gonna answer them. Except, hmmm,” she made a face of mock thoughtfulness. Tilted her head, rubbed her chin. “I’ll answer one!” Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Hypnotized you.”

“You...what?”

“I hypnotized ya!” Erris giggled. With this!” She tapped the necklace. “A witchy friend of mine made it. None of her other wiccan stuff seems to work but hey, maybe it’s real and she’s just bad at it!” Erris giggled again. “I’d never say it to her face though. She’s sweet.”

That...that was absurd. It was dumb! This whole thing was so dumb!

“Wh...what do you want with me?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just...a good friend of mine lives on this floor. He’s trans, you see.”

“S-so, you agree with me!” Yes, that was it! But then, why this? Was she a stalker? Ms. Ferrin didn’t really have fans, this was the kind of situation floozy singers and dancers with no self respect-

“No.” For a moment Erris’ face became a chilling, contemptuous sneer. Ice shot through Ms. Ferrin’s blood like an injection. Then, her cheery smile came back in full force. “Sorry about that! It just pisses me off sooo much when people disrespect my friend.”

“W-well, if your friend thinks he’s—”

“ZIPPIT!” That snarling expression of animistic disdain returned, if only for a moment. Again, it vanished almost instantly. “HE, you see, is a GUY. He’s trying to get into the boys’ dorm. Cause he’s a BOY.“

“But wait, what do I have to do with this? You should be—”

“AAAAGH!” Erris clenched a fist, flared her nose. She was about to start stomping. Instead she closed her eyes. “In...one...two...three.” Back to normal. “Okay, so. Because you’re being DENSE. Trans people, okay, they CAN BE DUDES TOO. Not in the shitty transphobic way you mean, but like. Born with a body like mine, want one that isn’t. Are you following?”

Ms. Ferrin frowned. What were her options? “I...don’t follow.” Erris buried her face in her hands and groaned.

“Brainwashing it is.”

“Wait, wha—”

Erris seized Ms. Ferrin by the head and yanked the academic in towards her. Both stumbled backwards and collapsed onto Erris’ bed. Ms. Ferrin struggled, her attempt to pull away countered by a pair of muscular legs wrapping her torso.

But then, something caught her eye. It wasn’t as beautiful as it had been earlier, but the necklace was dancing about as Erris twisted and jerked at her body. For an instant, the light show put Ms. Ferrin’s body on a delay. She slackened. Her face went between Erris’ tits.

And then she went limp. A carnival of dull, empty joy exploded through her mind. Pulses of pure, causeless happiness rippled out of Erris’ chest and shredded what thoughts remained in Ms. Ferrin’s mind. She let out a shaky groan and her body was still.

“There, there,” cooed Erris, who herself began to relax now that her opponent was subdued. “That’s not so bad, right?”

“Nmmmmmm,” Ms. Ferrin moaned into Erris’ shirt. The girl giggled and began to cradle Ms. Ferrin’s head and body affectionately.

“Now, I know this is, like. Morally a SHITTY thing to do.” A pause. Laughter. “What I’m about to do, anyway. Not the brainwashing. I’m much comfier with that. But...I have some frustration to work out, and you deeeeesperately want to please me don’t you?” The older woman’s head moved veeeery slightly up and down. Erries scratched her quarry’s neck gently. “So.” She rolled over so she was on top of Ms. Ferrin and then rose to sit on her knees, keeping Ms. Ferrin’s face in her chest through the whole process. Ms. Ferrin was limp and cooperative, which made it easy. Then, Erris took one hand away and used it to unzip her skirt, which she tossed to the floor. She pressed her crotch against Ms. Ferrin, and smiled at the groans her partner made.

“MMMMMF…” She was happy.

“Good girl,” Erris whispered in their ear. She started humping. Bouncing her tits. Jiggling them in Erris’ face. The moans got louder. Erris tried play along, to hump back, she really tried god bless her, but she was too limp and too comfortable. That was okay. Erris was going to be doing all the work in this relationship anyway. “I kinda hate you right now, cutie.” Ms. Ferrin moaned, sounding equal parts hurt, sad, and aroused. “But that’s okay. I don’t believe in punitive justice, so I’m going tooo ahehehe,” she laughed, started to thrust harder. To clutch Ms. Ferrin’s face against her chest tighter.

“Sorry, that’s a lie. I tooootally do.” An evil smile. “Not that it works, but...hey. at least I admit it.” She threw her weight down, jamming Ms. Ferrin against the bed under her. Again her waist accelerated. Thrust, thrust, thrust. She should have worn a vibrator, she thought to herself. “Tell me thank you.“

“Fnkyuuu,” came a muffled voice.

“Louder!”

“Thnnnkyu!

The humping got faster. Stronger. Erris cackled and shoved her entire upper body against Ms. Ferrin, smothering her more.

“LOUDER!”

“FNKYUUUUUU!!!!”

Erris quaked. She came. She went limp. She sighed. “Mmmmm,” she rolled over onto her side, releasing Ms. Ferrin. The activist stared blankly upward and saw stars. Some time passed. When she started to stir, Erris gently guided her face back into her chest. “Good girl. Relax. It’s class time. Shall I rehabilitate you now, or humiliate you first?”

Tessa smiled wide. The voice on the phone shouted but she didn’t care.

“Mmmmm,” she murmered to herself, idly rubbing herself as the silly lady on the line shouted. “I’m sorry. An emergency came up.” She looked glassy-eyed at her reflection. She was gorgeous, slightly tanned and with curly, thick, dark brown hair. Her chest was a bit small but nothing she couldn’t touch up with implants or a colorful push-up bra. “We had a rain date right?” The voice sighed. Said yes. “See you then, sweetheart.” She hung up before the lady could react.

“Feminism is girls fucking girls,” she sighed dreamily to herself. “Feminism is girls objectifying girls. Feminism is about fucking and fucking and fucking.” She sighed dreamily. The neighbor was cute. So was their daughter. Would they accept a threesome?

Mmmm. But the poor neighbor lady was married. Whatever. If he would mind that just meant he hated women. Women were defined by sex, after all. “Mmmm, sex.” She wondered what sort of big-tiddy hotties the family next door banged. It made her wet.

“I can touch. I’ve earned it.”