The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We’re mirrored. I can see the back of his neck and the tip of his nose but I’m not facing him; I’m feeling him. Our skin slides, smooth and hot against us. I nuzzle his neck, feeling his hair brush mine. His grip on my thighs anchors me. We both sweat out a smell, the smell. It’s physically addicting, it binds us. Melancholy eyes over moaning mouths, I bite his neck where it meets the shoulder and look up across the room, into my own eyes. I see his orbs reflected over my shoulder; he’s gazing into the other glass, the one over my dresser. I keep looking; our eyes lock. My roommate’s dresser has brown speck in the corner—rust from some past year. He keeps pushing himself into me, and each jolt of pleasure he brings me makes the scent stronger, sends me racing towards the edge the cliff, the precipice with only air below rushing up inside, harder, harder, whistling speed—yet roots me more firmly in the present than I’ve ever been. Each detail of my dorm room picks itself out, unravels inside my corneas; imprinted memory, a fantastic flashbulb of presence.

He slides his hands over the back of my neck and the sensitive spot below and I arch my back instinctively and mewl. Panting, scrabbling at his back, going higher with every thrust that he gives me and I give one back, working every muscle I still have control over to give him pleasure to give me pleasure, give me the heat, the searing fire. This is the kind of sensation that usually sends me running down the halls tearing my hair out in frustration but now, now it’s being taken care of, pounded into and out of me by this man, this boy, this guy and his seductive scent rising into my nostrils.

My head flops forward and my eyes relax back into the mirror, into our doubled-to-infinity images. Our shy eyes meet; we grin.

His eyes flash; they glow! Just for a second, but maybe the light was coming from mine, I thought I saw a light there, too, no, that’s not poss—irises! Irises green and blue, flowers against the sky in the springtime, stomping flowers that reach for the sun, open their purple petals oh irises, crunch under my foot, obey the foot the sun the sky the earth cringe back to the grass, take refuge in those pathetic roots, shooting with growing glowing oh crunch in my teeth your tubules, stalks, irises, irises in the springtime, staring up at the sun through the blazing blue and green staring back at yooooooooou!

I collapsed against the dresser and him and then we slid to the floor together. His breath was coming out in snorts, and I was shaking like I was a crowd a wave of laugher had just passed through. Relief. Sweet, citrusy, icy, thermal, slick relief. Dripping. My dry hair brushed against my wet shoulders and I shivered again in aftershock.

Seeing, he smiled and nuzzled my neck below my ear, a tuft of his hair brushing the lobe. It prickled and soothed. I reached up and curled my fingers into his shag, just looked at that smooth, roguish face. It came closer; a kiss. Cool lips, compared to the rivulets of sweat that lined the rest of our bodies, the sweat that sheened our faces. His lips were pressed together and firm, twisting against mine. Here was a guy that knew how to give kisses that made you lose days...

“Good?” he asked, a hint of a smile playing in the corners of his eyes.

“Mmmmm,” I sighed, stretching my arms above my head and then twisting side to side to get out the kinks in my abs. “Yeah.” I blew him a kiss and then placed one hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently backwards. “But I need to go to class now.”

“What, you don’t want to take a shower?”

With him? Everyone would know about us if someone saw us in the bathroom together, and I wasn’t ready to break cover about this. Maybe he could afford to let people know he made another conquest, but I wasn’t faring so well in public opinion this semester...

“Naaah...I want to go to class smelling like you.”

“Really, me?”

“Yeah, you, who else did I just fuck? Anyway, that way I can sit in class and just think about you. About us. Hee.”

He gave me a wink. “Know what? I will too.”

I flashed him some teeth and glanced up at the clock.

“OK, time to start getting dressed now. I only have ten minutes to get across campus as it is.”

He looked at his wrist to try and check the time and realized that his watch wasn’t there. I pointed to the shining thing where it lay strewn like a ticking jewel underneath Jenna’s bed. He crawled over to get it, flashing his ass at me. I stifled a giggle; I’d brought the mighty Tristan to his knees. Too bad no one would hear about it. Oh well. I know how to keep my big mouth shut now, that’s for certain, but there are still times I wish I didn’t have to. Little tidbits like that, small confidences exchanged, are the ways girls build friendships. Boys brag and girls giggle, that’s how it works, and that’s the problem with letting my cunt think for me so often. My presumptuous (and sumptuous, if any of the feedback I’ve gotten has been honest) pussy leads to shallower friendships, because I can only share so much without ruining my standing. Those nicknames and impressions stick, you can bet on that and win more often than the pope drinks wine.

I stood, stretched my arms above my head and pulled them to first the right side and then the left until I could feel the burn in my side, then dropped them and started gathering my scattered clothes. Pants? Good...bra? Need that. Panties go on first, then bra, then jeans...oh, there’s a sock!

“Tristan? I think that’s my sock.”

He looked down at the cotton he’d been trying to stick on his foot, chuckled, and tossed it over to me.

“Thanks.”

Sock one, sock two...where did that shirt get to? Hey, it’s kind of dark in here...oh! There it is, over my desk lamp...

“OK well...bye!”

He gave me the little boy-nod, smelled his armpit, laughed, and swaggered off down the hall. He adjusted his balls right before he turned the corner. Eew. Really hot though...

I jiggled my head. Time to get to class. There shall be no daydreaming. I grabbed my bag and my keys, locked the door, and jogged across campus, sliding into the fourth seat on the left just as Professor McAlice started his lecture.

I tried to concentrate on it, I really did; some of the allele stuff was actually really interesting. Not as interesting as me, apparently. I kept hearing whispers, buzzing around my ears like flies. I caught a ‘Shayla’ here, a ‘slept with?’ there, a ‘smells like sex, can’t the hussy be bothered to’ over there. Shit. I should have risked the shower, or just shown up late. Or not at all. Was it too late to transfer, or maybe just turn back time until everyone else disappeared? Nah, I thought. I’d get too horny if I was alone on earth. I grimace. I get too horny now. That’s why I’m in this situation to freaking begin with. I slumped down on the desk and tried to restrain both from crying and from touching myself. Self-pity always made me so hot, dammit.

But all the whispers, they just started getting to me. I mean, I was just sitting there trying to take notes and they just kept chip chip chipping away and every time some girl giggled I realized how much of a slut she must think I was and every time I heard the word ‘slut’ the more that sex stench slapped me in the face. All memory of the amazing fuck itself faded into the distance, replacing pleasure with pain, hotness with humiliation (which I do not find hot), until, until, UNTIL—

“SHUT UP!” I roared, tipping up the hinged desktop and sending my textbook and notebook flying in an explosion of papers.

Chest still heaving, I spun around. “All of you! Stop whispering! Where do you fucking get off on calling me a slut?” I clenched my fists, prepared to take an actual swing at the first kid to speak up, no matter what the Professor would do to me for—wait. Everyone was silent. Not a whisper, not a giggle, not a word. Not a single noise, not even from McAlice. “What?” Silence. I heard a pen drop. Its owner was shaking in fear, clutching at her throat. She wasn’t choking, she was...mute?

Not to be narcissistic or anything, but...did I do this? No one seemed to be able to talk; when I turned around to look at McAlice, he was looking similarly shocked. He was clearly trying to shout; all the veins on his forehead were bulging with the effort...but no sound was coming out.

“Uh...you can all talk now?”

“—DISRUPT THIS CLASS, MISSY, I’M GOING TO HAVE YOU—”

“—my god I can’t believe this I—”

“—could talk fine just yesterday can—”

“—since when does Shayla have mystical powers I—”

“Quiet again!”

It was like someone had thrown a switch. Pure silence. Oh, my—crash. I found that I’d been stepping backwards, afraid of this new talent or power or whatever it was, and now I’d hit the teacher’s podium. He glared at me, silent syllables still pouring from his throat. He looked like a winded race horse; foaming at the mouth and practically steaming. His hands were flailing as if he’d love to put a hand on me if it wasn’t so illegal, shake his words out of me.

Think, Shayla. Think think think! This isn’t a dream, because you’ve never had sex in a dream before. This can’t be a prank, because McAlice would never do something so crass as that. Simply put, there was only one explanation; I was doing this. I had, somehow and inexplicably, acquired powers. Not mystical like Emily was saying; I think mystical would feel different. I think I would also have had to do something like a spell to get mystical powers. No, there must be a scientific explanation. Scientific? Why yes, I was in science class...I should preform some experiments.

“Everyone, you’re not mad anymore. It’s perfectly normal not to be able to speak.”

I looked around. Everyone was back to normal, except for the fact that they weren’t talking. Kids chewed gum, doodled, daydreamed...McAlice wasn’t trying to shout anymore. He looked a little bit bemused, and then put his arms down. I could almost see his thought processes...hey, why couldn’t I? Time to test if my commands could be localized to a single person.

“Professor McAlice, sir, you can speak again, but you no longer have a filter. You will say everything that comes into your head.” I nodded. “And, uhh, this will all seem normal to you!” I added hastily; don’t want any more shouting.

“...really rather strange that a student is standing at the front of my class. I don’t think we’re giving presentations today, I really wish maintenance would do something about this lighting but maybe if I at least had some money for chalk we’d be able to get some real teaching done instead of having everyone stand around. Why is she in front of me? I was definitely supposed to be teaching today, maybe she’s—”

“That’s enough, Professor. Stop.”

He fell silent, and then he fell to the ground, convulsing. What happened? Oh, oh no, oh shit. I must have told him to stop thinking when I meant to tell him to stop speaking. Note to self; be specific! God help me if I ever tell anyone to go to hell..

“Start thinking, Professor!”

“...ow, this really hurts I oh god need air I—”

“Stop voicing your thoughts, Professor.”

I looked around at the class. They were staring, wide-eyed. They couldn’t speak, but they were passing notes furiously. They couldn’t speak and they were still laughing at me! I felt like crying. This was not fair. Powers were supposed to make me liked, or at least respected, right? A tear sprung to my eye as a guy in a powder-blue shirt tried to keep his gum in his mouth, but he was laughing too hard to make any real effort at it. I swallowed hard and made an announcement.

“Class, Professor, everybody, listen up! Nothing weird or strange happened in Bio class today. There was never a point where you couldn’t talk. McAlice, you taught your lesson. Class, you all listened and took notes and learned something for once. Shayla, that’s me for those of you who don’t know my name, Shayla didn’t stand up or say anything the entire class. None of you gossiped about her or laughed at her or ever will again. When I snap my fingers, you will all commence doing what you would normally be doing right now.” As I said this, I walked back to my seat, feeling all of their eyes on me, feeling their minds editing their memories in anticipation of my snap. I picked up my book and sat down, grabbed my pen with my left hand, and snapped with the right.

Normality reestablished control. Boredom pervaded the air as if it had been there all along. The smell of pen ink and strawberry gum mixed in my nostrils with the stink I was still pushing out. Nobody noticed this time. No comments, no giggles. Just science, just a dim lecture hall with only the projector to shed any light on anything.

I spent the rest of the hour studying each and every person in the room. Would what I had done remain in their subconscious memory, wiped only from their consciousness? Would that change their perception of me? What would this do to my reputation? And why in the hell, if I had erased all memory of all oddness from everyone’s minds, was Serena still staring at me?

I had to look up Tristan’s phone number in the directory. How humiliating; I didn’t even know the number of the guy I’d slept with. Or where he lived, even though I’d fucked his roommate spring semester of last year. When you have a professional relationship with someone, it’s best not to get personal like that. It appeared now, however, that my definition of “personal” was not quite the norm. Only I would know if a guy was circumcised or not before I even knew his last name, but at least I knew that much. How else would I have looked him up?

We’d always communicated by e-mail before, as befitted club leaders on a campus where all news, official or unofficial, was obtained by internet. Tristan and I were trying (and by “trying,” I mean “failing”) to run the campus’s newest literary magazine. We, however, were only sophomores; we had a few freshmen under us (but they were worthless, just like we were last year) but everyone else involved had graduated, leaving us in the number one and two spots. I’d always thought he was cute, but this was the first semester that I managed to get to him before I’d filled my boy quota.

Our work conversations all centered around being desperate for more submissions, but all that working together had actually allowed me to get to know him a little. Funny, for me. His parents were farmers, he had a little sister named Maude, an older brother named Jerry, he was allergic to cats, and he hated raisins. Oh, and he was uncircumcised. My roommate, Jenna, had an early class this morning, I woke up horny (like usual), Tristan “happened” to stop by to run an idea by me...and we end up fucking against my dresser in a most rigorous fashion. I love college.

So I go through all this trouble digging out my directory, trying to find his name, realizing that I was searching in the wrong class year, finding the right section, and then trying to keep my finger on the number while simultaneously trying to find my phone and dial all the correct numbers—and the bastard calls me just as I’m about to hit “send.”

“Great timing,” I said, tossing the booklet back into the depths of my desk drawer. The sarcasm was lost on him.

“Shay! Shay! You’ll never believe what just happened to me!”

“What?” I asked, inadvertently getting caught up in his excitement.

“I have mystical powers!”

“I don’t think they’re mystical.”

“What makes you think—hey! Do you have them too?”

“Yeah. I told my entire Bio class to shut up and they listened. How about you?”

“Well, I—uhh, yeah, I did something kinda like that.”

“Do you have, well, any idea how or why this happened?”

“No, no, do you?”

“None. Maybe we should, like, meet and talk about this in person?”

“OK, cool. LitFly room?”

“Sure. Five minutes?”

“Make that fifteen; I want to take a shower and slap on some new clothes first.”

“OK, see ya then.”

Should I take a shower? Nah...I’d need at least forty-five minutes and it wouldn’t be fair to make him wait. But then, I never made anyone wait? I was always the one waiting...but that’s just because I always came early.

Speaking of early...I grabbed my keys and left.

The LitFly room, home to our failing magazine, was located in the basement of a building so old it made the Sphinx look new. The roof leaked, the one window was above head level and refused to either open or close all the way so the room was either drafty or stuffy, and the whole place was musty, sticky concrete; the most depressing gray in the universe. This is the room they give to clubs the administration thinks will fail.

I flopped into one of the chairs, which sent up a cloud of invisible spores to tickle my throat. I coughed into my hand. Halfway into my spasming, the door opened with a creak.

“Hey Shayla. You OK?”

“Fine!” I gasped, and recovered. “Hey Tristan. What’re those?” I asked, pointing to the sheaf of papers he was carrying.

“These,” he said, “are today’s submissions.”

“Today’s? B-but, we haven’t gotten that many all year! How did you—?”

“I told you, mystical powers!” He grinned.

“Oh, you sly bas—genius!” I jumped up and gave him a hug, but pulled back when he groped my ass in the middle of it. “Bastard.”

“What? You liked it this morning.”

“I’m sorry, I, well, just wasn’t expecting it. Go ahead.” Now that he brought it up, maybe I could do with a little action…I put a saucy flair into my hips as I stepped towards him.

“Actually, uh, no thanks.” His voice was low and serious.

“What do you mean, no thanks?” Was I being snubbed?

“Well, I, I’m kind of disturbed right now. I—I tried the powers again on my way over, and, and they didn’t work!”

“What? I thought we just had this whatever it was now...I think I still have mine.”

“Well, try it!”

“On who? On you?”

“No, uh, not on me...there must be someone in the lab, try there.”

Shaking my head, I pulled open our door and walked straight across the hall to the computer lab. The door was open a crack, and I heard the click of long nails on keyboard.

“Stand up and give me your computer.”

The raven-haired girl looked up at me through glasses half falling down her nose. She raised a finger and pressed them back up into place, smoothed down her knee-length skirt, and stood. Her sandals slapped her heels as she took a few steps away from the console, and then stopped. She stood stock-still. I looked at her; she sucked in one of her cheeks. She looked very confused. She’d also just done what I said.

“Uh, thanks, you can have it back now.” Tristan and I scrambled for the safety of the LitFly room.

“It worked.”

“Yeah, no kidding. That freaked me out.”

“But why can you still do it and I can’t?” he half-whined.

“I, I don’t know...maybe, well, what’s the difference between us?” I asked, pacing the office.

“I’m a guy, for one thing,” he said, leaning up against the concrete wall near the door.

“No, no, like, like what have we done differently today? What did we do the same to get these powers and what did we—well, you do to lose them? We must have done something the same that gave us both powers, and then there must be something, some opposite thing, that you did and I didn’t do since then.”

We both thought, but it soon became clear that there was only one way we could both have gotten powers.

“We fucked.”

“I’ve fucked before,” I said, trying to keep some of the upper hand. Or something? I think this was just one of those awkward situations where you just say whatever you think you need to say when you’re not thinking.

“Ya, and so have I. But you’ve never fucked me,” he said. He smirked.

“It wasn’t that good,” I snorted, even though it had been.

“Yeah it was,” he countered. I nodded.

“But it couldn’t have been that...could it?”

“Well, maybe it—” he stopped. “Was there anything different than usual?”

“Well, there was the...the smell...” Dizzy silence slammed through my nostrils and into my brain. The smell. Instinctively, I knew that was it. That mind-bending, magical aroma, that melty tang emanating from our bodies, mixing with the heat and—“It was our sweat!”

“What?”

“Our sweat! When we fucked and mixed our sweat, it must have done something...the two together must have combined some way that...well, allows us to control people.”

His mouth opened wide. Wider. Hung there—snapped shut. “So, when I showered—?”

“You washed it off. But I didn’t. I can still do things.”

“Can, can you control me, too?”

“Bark like a dog.”

“Meow.”

“I guess not.”

He shivered in relief. “So we can’t control each other, but when we fuck, no one else can stand in our way?”

I came out with a grin of my own. “I guess so.”

“Shayla,” he said, slinking up to me and sliding an arm around my waist, “we are going to have lots of fun.”

I leaned in for a kiss; our lips met and dragged our bodies up close, and it felt tingly. I put my head down and sighed. He felt firm, and there with his arms around me and my head resting on his shoulder, my lips grazing the soft skin of his neck and my loins afire, I felt peaceful. I felt like maybe, here was a guy who could hold me for a while. Just maybe, I could be happy in his arms and in his heart.

The mystical powers didn’t hurt, either.

Hand in hand, we walked across the quad to our next classes. He dropped me off at mine before continuing to his, waving as he took a couple of backwards steps before jogging over to the Psychology building. His hair glinted in the sunlight, which also obscured his face. Again, I felt restful. Heh, I think I had a boyfriend now. Who would have thought?

Freshly sweaty and bedraggled (although not dragged; fully consensual), Tris and I stepped back into the LitFly room. Our five freshman sat around in random chairs, lightly chatting. One was picking her nails with utter disdain. The whole mood was one of extreme apathy, of “it’s a nice day and you call a meeting? What are you on?” This was the main test, though. If they responded like everyone else had, I was willing to chalk one up to mystic and have myself some fun.

“So. Meeting to order.”

Nothing happened. Oh well; it was just an expression; didn’t mean anything anyway.

“Pay attention!” snapped Tris. All five jerked up and swiveled their bodies and heads our way. “When Shay or I talk, you listen.” I could hear cold malice in his voice. Woah, no need to get strict; I think we have them exactly where we want them. “Understand?”

“Yes!” called one. The others nodded.

“And,” he continued, “you obey.”

I thought that was a bit cheesy, personally, but hey, to each his own.

“Now, the P53 protein, once activated, targets not the area that codes for it, but the...” Hoo boy. This was going to be a long class. The fact that I could still feel the heat of Tristan’s kisses on the back of my neck didn’t help anything. This morning we’d fucked in his room, a first for us. His roommate had smirked on the way out; probably remembering our little tryst in the laundry room last year. What a loser. He probably hadn’t gotten any pussy since then. If only he’d come back fifteen minutes later, I could have made him shut up for good. Or maybe Tristan would’ve; seemed like he really enjoyed barking out the commands. Especially this week, he’d gotten a little, you know...There were times when I was really glad we couldn’t control each other.

“Hey.”

I jerked my head up. The whisper came again.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey Serena. What’s up?”

The little blond quaked for some reason. “Ummm, not much...” She brushed back her bangs with long, delicate fingers. Her hair was so pale it practically matched her skin. “Uhhh, I was wondering...”

“Yeah?” I doodled a tree in the margin of my notebook. It was the only thing I could really draw.

“Do you, ummm, have a study partner? I mean, ummm, there’s that test next week and do you want to study?” She was shaking like a leaf.

“Are you OK?”

She nodded rapidly.

“Yeah, sure, why not?”

She let out a huge surge of air. Had she been holding her breath? I noticed her slender form moving up and down beneath her clothes...Huh? A girl? Well, no. I had a boyfriend. But we could still study.

“Come to my room at eight tonight. Boshale 213.”

Serena smiled with a small trace of a giggle, and went back to taking notes. For the rest of class, I was extremely conscious of how close her arm was to mine every time she reached the end of a line.

There was a tentative knock at my door at exactly eight pm. What with homework and LitFly and all, I still hadn’t taken a shower.

“Come in, it’s unlocked!” I called out from my desk.

Serena entered.

I think I managed to suppress my gasp, but I’m not quite sure. She was in this little blue sun dress and wicker sandals with straps that just crawled right up her ankles and calves...short skirts always made me want to touch the inside of those smooth, smooth thighs. Her hair was swept up into a half pony-tail, curling around her face and those deep blue eyes that matched the dress perfectly.

“You’ve...changed. Since class.”

“Yeah.” She ground the toe of one high-heeled sandal into the carpet. “I felt like I should.”

“You can, uh, close the door?”

She reached out one slender arm, took hold of the doorknob, and gently pushed it into its place. I pretended not to notice either the swell of her petite breasts or the way she locked the door by busying myself getting my textbook off my shelf.

“So, ummm, studying?” She shrugged, and it made her little dress ride up on her legs. Oh my...I offered her a drink of milk, water or lemonade but didn’t mention my beer. Beer made me too horny. She refused the drink anyway.

We started out sitting on my bed, and then slid down to the floor when the science got harder. That was why, a half hour later, I was leaning against my bed staring at her creamy ankles through slitted eyes, trying to recall the difference between rough and smooth endoplasmic reticulum.

“Ohh, don’t tell me, don’t tell me...”

“I won’t...cuz I don’t know either.” She winked at me.

“Uchhh...” I groaned and rolled my neck around until it popped. “Ahhh...”

“So, ummm,” she said, that nervous twitch back in her voice, “do you...oh, nevermind.” She twisted her pencil between her hands, wringing it.

“No. Finish the sentence. What?”

“Do you want to do something else?”

“Like what?”

“Ummm...”

“Tell me what.”

“Make out?” She squeaked.

I gulped and choked. Somehow, even after all that heated arm-grazing and the outfit and the fact that I was really really attracted to this girl, it hadn’t occurred to me that she could actually feel the same way. And her suggestion was still ringing in my ears. I wanted to kiss those soft-looking lips, those moist, slightly-parted lips; my eyes were already pulled into her blue skies of irises, irises under a cloudless sky of...She’d only answered my question because Tristan had fucked me. I only knew she liked me because Tristan had fucked me. I only had a chance with this girl because I’d fucked Tristan. My boyfriend, Tristan.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward.

“What’s wrong now?” Tristan asked with an impatient sigh, crossing his arms over that delightfully muscular chest. Thin faded t-shirt riding up under his arms to reveal just a hint of pubic hair and hips, six-pack abs and dammit!

“I don’t really know how to say this...”

“Then don’t. Don’t say anything. Let’s just fuck!”

“I don’t know if I want to.” Last night with Serena had been a thing of dreams. She was delicate in my arms, even paler underneath her dress; a moon with no craters. Smooth and tasty, moaning every time I found a new way to sweep my fingertips across her expanse, hot and tangy when I kissed her. There were no more powers to be had, and our scents mixing had canceled out the ones I still possessed that night, but she tasted like no boy ever had or ever could. She was sweet, and possibly addicting, and she sucked on her finger to keep tasting me. Even after she’d been down three times to feel me shudder “just one more time...” with a giggle, slid those graceful hands over my breasts with patterns that made me moan loud enough to echo off the cement-block walls, even then I still had no desire to stop. Even then, a shaking wreck all hollowed out with pleasure like never before.

“You’re the horniest girl in school and you don’t wanna do it? What’s the deal?”

“Can’t I just not want to fuck every once in a while?” I fiddled around with my computer so I didn’t have to look him in the eye. I turned on some music. Something with a slow, hard beat. Pounding.

“Shayla, you never ‘don’t wanna fuck.’”

“I do right now.”

“Look, hon, I’m kind of in a bind here. I have a test this morning and I really need those powers.”

“Oh, so this isn’t even about the sex, or about me, is it? You just need your little powers to pass some dumb test you should have been studying for. Well, no. The answer is no.”

“No, no! It’s not like that! Not at all.” He looked deep into my eyes. “I...I love you. I didn’t want to say it before, but...I do. I know I’m kind of callous at times, but it’s because I need you. I do, baby.”

I melted. I couldn’t tell him now...but that was just a one time thing, right? I was mostly straight, and he was my boyfriend. And I’d pined for him. Insomuch, you know, as I ever pined for anyone. And that was really the key, wasn’t it? Like Chuck Klosterman says, every once in a while you meet someone and the way you love them becomes your definition of love. My first love was the guy I first pined for, a guy I never fucked, never got, never even talked to. I’d pined for Tristan. And now I had him. Love. I loved him.

“Come on, Shayla,” he said, looking deep into my eyes and wrapping his arms around my waist. “You know you want a little action.” He swung his hips into the music and brought mine along with them.

“Tristan—” I still wasn’t sure about this. But his heat was getting to me, jump starting my libido.

“No, shhh...” he placed one finger over my lips to stop me from protesting.

“You’ve been acting kind of—mmph!” My eyes shot wide open as he kissed me full on the mouth. He worked through my surprise, tilting my head back and deepening the kiss in a semblance of romance. He ran the fingers of one hand through my hair, winding them in, and slid the other down to the top of my jeans. His clever fingertips played with the button, then slid up to run his hand over my exposed hips. Softness against my skin...

“Tris! No!” I jerked away. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Sure we can, Shayla. You want it.”

“No, I...” The fact that I did, really badly, was not helping.

“You’re hesitating. Look at me. No, look at me. Yeah. Shayla, this is a gift. This power...this doesn’t happen every day. We should take advantage of that.”

“By taking advantage of me?”

He snorted. “Shayla, you’re not some blushing, fuckit, virgin or anything. Even before I got to you. I mean hell, you slept with my roommate, and his buddy the week before.”

“That was last year!”

“Sure, whatever. But it’s good with me, isn’t it?”

“Well...”

“Yeah.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Shayla. I get fireworks when I kiss you, did you know that? This is...this is special.” He let his mouth fall open just a tiny bit, just so my sight was drawn to it, watching the air flow in and out, in and out, in and out...

“I—”

“You’re burning up, aren’t you?” He reached out one strong arm and pulled me to his chest.

“Heat...yes, I—oh god!” I cried as his hand reached my ass and squeezed.

“Don’t think anymore,” he insisted. “Just feel. Just feel the heat. Feel my hands...feel my hands on your stomach, undoing your button, your zipper...” I grabbed his hand as I felt the pressure on my front slowly subside; I grabbed his hand to make him unzip me faster. The air came, it felt like it was rushing inside the slowly parting denim, as if the fabric was connected to my body, another set of lips for him to push though, to dominate. Tristan gently plucked my hand from his and knelt, pulling my jeans slowly off my hips and down to the floor. I lifted one foot at a time and he took the rings of cloth away. He went back up for the panties, leaning in close to breathe on my aching, swelling sex as he rid the center of my being of its last vestige of control.

“Please, please” I whimpered weakly.

He slipped a hand between my legs and ran it up my thighs, up and up...but didn’t touch my dripping folds, only used it to spread my legs apart. My socks stuck on the rough carpet, but the dragging feeling was nothing to the sensation of my heart pounding in my pussy. My clit was ticking, twitching with arousal, wanting only the slightest touch to—

I yowled. His tongue, his tongue, he’d taken his hand away and replaced it with his mouth, his mouth latched to my aching need, lapping up my juices, and then swiping at my clit, sensations rocketing to my skull, ricocheting around the empty space where my brain used to be. I grabbed his hair, my dumb fingers forcing his head further between my legs. This pleasure was such torture, but look at me asking for more! I looked up into my mirror, saw tears sliding from my eyes with the intensity of the sensation. I saw one of his arms snake up my stomach and disappear under my shirt. Another fuzzy jolt of pleasure hit my eyes when his fingers slid over my nipple, raising it to heretofore unknown heights, and I was lost. Gone was any reluctance, any resistance, anything other than the desire to suck and fuck and cum, cum so hard they’d never get my smell out of the carpet.

I stripped off my shirt and added a hand of my own to the other raised nub. I think by this point I was moaning, but I don’t remember the next few minutes very well; the next thing that’s clear to me is the tumbling sensation of my body being lowered to the ground, being laid to rest atop a pile of discarded clothes; both his and mine.

His dick brushed my thigh, and I felt a spot of his wetness stay on it. I shivered. His cock brushed higher up and closer in. I spread my legs open farther, farther... he was hovering. He was waiting. Waiting? Why?! He’d gotten me this horny, why would he do that if he wasn’t going to take care of me?

“Gah!” I moaned in indignant anger. “Are you gonna put it in, or what?”

Tris smiled one of his sideways grins at me.

“What? What do you know that I don’t?” I wrigged my hips beneath him. I was going to lose it in a minute, why the damn delay?

He reached into the pocket of his pants from where they lay near us. He pulled something out, brought it towards my face. What was that? A little black box, what did he want with—oh. Oh! Spark-l-ly...

“Shayla, will you marry me?”

I sniffed. So romantic! “Yes, Tristan, I will.” I held up my left hand and he slid the shining ring onto my finger. “Now put your cock in me before I fucking scream.”

He grinned again, tossed the box aside, and slammed home.

The next day in bio, I saw Serena saunter through the door with more confidence than I’d ever seen her possess. I saw her smile at me, toss her hair, slip into the seat next to me, move in closer...

Then she noticed the ring. She looked like she’d been slapped. She hopped up from the seat and fled the room.

What else could I do?

“Serena and I were both here all class,” I snapped to the class and the Professor, and sprinted out after her.

“Serena!” I called, “Serena!” My sneakers burned asphalt down the path.

The whole place, MON University, was gorgeous. It was like one big English park; tree-lined paths, shrubbery, and manicured lawns. Sure, they were surrounded by box-like nondescript brick buildings, but on sunlit days like today most students didn’t care; everywhere I looked were sunbathing, chattering, frisbee-throwing students. Where was Serena?

The first flowers of the year were starting to bloom, but there was only one bright blossom I was looking for.

“Serena!” I slowed to a jog; people were starting to notice me. Some guys carrying drivers and tennis balls looked me over as they passed on through. “What’re you looking at?” I growled.

“You.” Said one of them.

“You’re pretty hot,” commented another.

“Hey, aren’t you those guys who raped that girl last year?”

“Uhhh...” They looked at each other nervously. “No, we were just at the party.” They both sighed. Oops. If it was them, one of their friends had died that night.

“Whatever. Have you seen Serena Michaels?”

“I think so?” said the one in the polo shirt, “Is that her?” He gestured towards a blonde in a short red sundress, power-walking angrily towards the Lilac building, a dorm on East campus.

“Yeah, that’s her. Thanks. And you guys can, uh, feel, um...oh, fuck it. Thanks!”

I started to jog, and then turned it up into a sprint. Serena was wearing those cute wicker sandals again, but it meant she couldn’t go very fast. She also didn’t know I was following her, at least not until I pulled up to her side, panting.

“Serena!” I wheezed.

“What?” she snapped. Her eyes were red from holding back tears.

“I, I wanted to apologize. Just a..hoo, just a sec.” I put my hands on my knees and breathed slowly and evenly, trying to recover. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“OK, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But...what did you think was gonna happen with us?”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a long second. “I...I thought maybe you would like me enough to break up with Tristan. But then you, you...you get engaged to him the very next day? What was I to you?” One tear snuck down her left cheek. I thought about how soft her face was and my heart melted.

“Let, let me explain, OK?”

She nodded.

“Now, I know this is all going to sound completely crazy, but I can prove it. Remember that, OK? I can prove everything I’m about to say.”

She sniffed, and rubbed one hand along her upper arm.

“OK, so, in the beginning I liked Tristan, well, not actually in the beginning, because in the beginning I just wanted to fuck him but I started to like him after that, see? Well, yeah, kinda, but the thing is we have these powers. We get these powers because we fuck each other. You remember the other night when I was asking you all those questions? You never would have answered those if I didn’t have my powers making you do it. And it turned out awesome, it did, it really did, but like, see, I need to keep fucking him to have these powers because, it’s like, the smell. Our sweat mixes when we fuck and that’s what gives us these powers; the smell. And then there was you and it was totally amazing, best night of my life but...I want to keep having these powers and then he fucked me and he asked me to marry him and just, you know...”

She stood silently for another minute, absorbing it all.

“Prove it.”

“Oh, uh, yeah sure. Do you know any of those guys?” I pointed to a group of scantily clad girls and admiring guys hanging out on patio furniture they’d dragged into a circle on the lawn outside the dorm.

“Darla,” she said, pointing to a short, gothy-looking girl. I could clearly see her bra through her netted shirt. The sight only distracted me for a second.

I walked over to her. “Hey Darla!” I said. “Stand up and come with me.”

Wordlessly, she complied.

“Serena, what should I tell Darla to do? What wouldn’t she do normally that would prove my point?”

She shrugged. “Hey Darla.”

“Hey...uh, who is this girl?”

“I’m Shayla, and you need to do jumping jacks until I tell you to stop.”

“What do you even—oh!” She yelped, as her body started doing jumping jacks without her permission. Serena stared incredulously.

“Wow, you’re really making her do that?”

“Yup. Want to see anything else?”

“Ummmm...I can’t think of anything.”

“Bummer. OK Darla, you can stop. I want you to forget that I made you do those jumping jacks and that I have this power; make something up when you go back to your friends. I’m Shayla and you’ll be friendly to me from now on. Bye.”

She looked at me out of the corner of her eye as she stumbled back over to her friends. She shrugged at them, and then made a joke I couldn’t catch. They all erupted in laugher.

“Believe me now?”

“Yes. And believe me when I say that you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll get you away from Tristan yet.”

“Oh really?”

“Try me,” she said, giggling, and ran towards Lilac’s front door.

I pushed down a massive lump of guilt about cheating on Tristan again, grinned, and ran after her.

Over the next few weeks, I lived a double life. I was sleeping with both Tristan and Serena and not telling the other one. I used the power on Serena to make her forget Tristan’s smell on me, and I just looked in the mirror when I fucked Tristan. I looked deep into my own eyes and tried to pretend I was with Serena, lovely Serena. She was like sunlight.

The guilt grew with each passing day. Every time I felt satisfied from Serena, every time I felt powerful because of Tristan, I felt nauseous. It got worse and worse and lasted longer and longer, until finally, right before midterms, I cracked.

I’d been sitting through one of my longer classes, just thinking about it and pouring through all my guilt when I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to tell Tristan; he was the one I was engaged to, he was the one I had the responsibility to. I had to tell him I’d been cheating on him. The thought made me sick, but I knew it was the only way to stop feeling like the scum of the earth. This is why I’d been setting limits on my fucking in the first place!

I walked back from class, watching the happy students around me. The happy, horny students; there were sure a lot of kids making out on the grass. And up against the trees. And the buildings. Spring fever? No, it had to be Tristan. All the girls were wearing ultra-short skirts and none of them were wearing bras. Seriously, what was that? Why would he make them do that? It’s really uncomfortable and it causes sagging. Had he finally gone mad with power?

“You can all wear bras again if you want to!” I called, and walked a little faster.

And hey, that girl was...wow, not wearing any underwear, either. I started jogging. Then I stopped; my bag was heavy.

Finally, Boshale dorm was in sight. With a nervous sigh and one last look at all the necking couples, I opened the door and took the stairs two at a time. I could drop my stuff off in my room, grab my cellphone, and try and track down Tristan.

If he’d been up to evil deeds, would he pick up? Yeah, he would. He would want to fuck. More power.

I heard moans coming from behind the door of 213; if Jenna had a guy over...they wouldn’t mind me walking in for a minute. They wouldn’t remember it.

“Hello?” I turned the knob to see if it was open, and it was. And the sight that met my eyes was more horrible than I ever could have expected.

Tristan was sitting on my bed, getting his cock sucked by...Jenna and, and...Serena!

“Tristan! What?!”

“Oh, hey babe. What’s up? These ladies were just sitting here waiting for you, so I figured I’d get some decent use out of them.”

“You bastard! Serena, Jenna, stop sucking his cock! Tristan, get away from them.”

Jenna leapt away and headed straight for her listerine.

“I’ll get whoever I want to suck me off, you haven’t done it in a week.”

“That’s no fucking excuse.”

“Oh, but it’s OK for you to fuck this one?” he pointed a thumb at Serena.

“H-how did you know?”

“She told me.”

“He asked me what I was doing here and it just...came out!” she sobbed. “And I definitely never wanted to touch his dick!”

“You. Bastard.” I gritted my teeth. “Know what? We’re not going to fuck anymore.”

“What?” he said, buttoning up his jeans. “But I love you! You can’t just cut me off. Mystical powers!”

Jenna snorted and spat.

The blood was still rushing through my ears. Nobody forced my girl into anything she didn’t want to do. Nobody who didn’t want to pay very dearly, that is.

“Jenna, Serena, his commands no longer have any effect on you. Grab him and don’t let him go!”

Tristan just laughed, but I knew Serena was stronger than she looked, and Jenna was on the lacrosse team; she was tough.

They each took one of his arms and together they stood him up and pressed him against the wall. I strode over and faced him.

“It wasn’t really me you liked, is it Tristan?”

“No, nah, of course I like you Shay, I love you, how—”

“Stop it. I know the truth. It’s not me you love, it’s not even me you like. You like the power; that’s what you love. That’s what keeps you up nights sweating and groaning after me. The...power.”

A flash of anger hit me. I turned the engagement ring around so the diamond faced into my palm and slapped him across the face. The sound of my skin displacing his sent a crack like thunder across the room. One drop of blood rose to his cheek where the diamond bit into it. Jenna winced and Serena turned away, but their grip stayed strong on his arms. “And, and take this fucking thing back.” In two wild motions I ripped the ring off my finger and flung it at him. It hit him square in the chest. It couldn’t have hurt, but he flinched nonetheless.

“You prick, you need to pay.”

“Too bad you can’t command me too, bitch.”

“Yeah, too bad...But I can hose you down and never fuck you again. And then I can call the police on you for what you did to everyone on campus.”

“You got some kinda proof?”

“I’ll testify,” said Jenna.

“Me too,” chimed in Serena.

“Just one flaw in your nice little plan.” He spoke in a soft voice, one filled to the brim with malice. “What about everyone on campus. How you gonna make them normal again without the power?”

That stopped me hard.

“Why not just make him go running?” said Jenna. “Catch his sweat in a cup and mix it with yours later. Then he gets nothing and you can put everyone back to normal.”

“Wow, why didn’t I think of that?”

“You really don’t give me enough credit.”

Tristan snorted.

“OK, that’s it. Girls, do whatever you want with him, and then haul him under the shower. I’m gonna go call the police.”

Spring was fairly idyllic, despite all the judicial process stuff. Hearings were boring and our lawyer was kind of a scuzzball, but he did make sure I got a cup of Tristan’s sweat. We won the case.

On sunny days, Serena and I sat out on the East quad, just holding hands and watching the people go by. Sure, there are more mini-skirts here per capita than any other college campus, and just maybe everyone flirts and gives head in public places a little more than usual, but things are pretty much normal.

Nobody makes fun of me anymore.

Every once in a while, Serena gets this faraway look in her eyes, and asks me to make her do something. With pleasure, I comply.