The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was Alder’s second week and Bryony was wondering how to tell Alder about the particular rules of the garden. It was not that clothes did not have to be worn. That was of course voluntary. It was just they were not worn. She could not imagine him actually being greatly taken aback at Mr. Carruthers wandering around naked but what would he think of Craig naked let alone Becky and Jessica, and, of course there was herself. She did not like to be encumbered. And then there was the easy attitude to sex. It would not do for Alder to come unexpectedly on Craig deep within Jessica, or Becky sipping the aftermath indeed!

She was opening the tool shed when Alder appeared looking slightly surprised and not quite himself.

“Morning Alder,” she began, “has... is there anything the matter?”

“No Bryony, Oh, yes, good morning. What are we doing today?”

He still looked puzzled and Bryony looked quizzically at him. There was a pause.

“Um, Mr. Carruthers he...”

“Yes?”

“He hasn’t any clothes on.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

Alder looked confused.

“You see Mr. Carruthers likes to go around naked. It’s a thing he has. Naturism. Nothing to be alarmed at.”

“Doesn’t it, Bryony? Doesn’ it, I mean, don’t you mind?”

“No not a bit of it. It’s his thing. It’s his garden after all!” Bryony left it at that. A seed was sown.

It was later that morning when they were going up to the path by the house that Bryony deliberately stopped under some of the garden’s peculiar flame orange blossom.

“Phew,” she said, “the heat is quite something today.” She pulled her shirt away from her skin. It was somehow erotic—the pulling of the material away from the skin underneath. Alder turned hurriedly away, mumbling agreement. Bryony smiled. The garden was having its effect.

That afternoon Bryony made her next move. She removed her bra and let her breasts move freely under her shirt. It was good to feel she was on her way back to being free and unencumbered in Mr. Carruthers’ Garden. She would have liked to have taken her shirt off but she did not want to frighten Alder and so she moved in stages.

Alder certainly noticed the lack of a bra on his return and when Bryony, taking a swig from a bottle of water, managed to spill some water down herself resulting in her left nipple becoming almost visible through the wet material he went very red in the face. Moreover, as Bryony noticed and Alder hoped she would not, his jeans became tighter as his penis strained against the material. He was embarrassed and aroused, both at the same time. He went home that night thinking only of that wet shirt. He would have to be so careful the next day to avoid staring at those breasts if Bryony again went bra-less. Really he would rather she did not: though he did like the movement within her shirt a very great deal.

It was good muck. Well rotted and excellent for the roses. It was also slippery and Alder’s fall into it couldn’t have been more dramatic and comic if he had tried. He was covered. Bryony fell to the ground with laughter, her chest heaving, bra-less breasts bouncing under her shirt. Alder joined in the laughter. He appreciated the humour of the situation and no doubt his appearance.

“You’re going to have to wash that lot off before you go home,” laughed Bryony, “tell you what, get those things off, I’ll take them up to the house and sort them out and you can wash under the hose.”

Of course Alder protested but he could see the sense. Bryony left a naked Alder modestly hidden in the tool shed whilst she took shirt, shorts and the rest up to the house and the washing machine. She returned to find the hose had certainly been used but Alder was hiding back in the potting shed.

“Oh, don’t be silly. Come out of there and dry in the sun. It’s not as if I haven’t seen naked men in this garden before. Haven’t you seen Craig yet, Mr. Carruthers of course and his friends?”

Alder had not seen Craig or Mr. Carruthers’ friends, and he was quite surprised to hear there would be more naked men wandering around the garden. It took some inducing to extract him from the tool shed. He was more than embarrassed but Bryony appeared to ignore him so he nipped past her to the furthest part of the vegetable bed and began digging. He dug hard concentrating on the task in time and ignoring Bryony. He even missed her going up to the house and bringing his clothes back and draping them over the toolshed to dry in the sunshine. She called out to him about what she had done and then he did look up and immediately noticed Bryony had taken her top off. There she was digging away, half turned away from him but stripped to the waist, breasts swinging gently as she worked. They were beautiful. Full and topped with dark brown nipples—he could do nothing but stare and as he stared he reacted as young men will. His penis began to grow as his subconscious jumped from simply looking to readying his body for more. At first he did not think of his erection—his eyes glued to Bryony’s breasts but suddenly it came to him. He, or rather his cock, was not concealed by trousers but pointing out from him in the open air!

Bryony was between him and the safety of the tool shed. If he tried to go past her she would see him, see him in his erect state. If only he could get his, no doubt still wet, shorts on then he could hide his cock, hide the protruding evidence of his desire, hide the effect Bryony had on his mind. There was no escape behind him or to the side, no concealment at all. He could not simply hide until his erection had subsided—the wall was behind and the hedges either side. What way was there out of his predicament? He could lie down burying his cock in the cool turned earth. This stratagem was a sensible one for the beach but in the garden? Perhaps he could just carry on, try not to think of Bryony and then his erection would go down and most likely she wouldn’t look up and see him. He was still in a panic and debating with himself what to do when Bryony let go of her fork, stretched, turned and looked straight at Alder. He could have died. He went bright red with embarrassment and his hands flew to cover his penis. Rather than looking shocked or saying anything censorious, Bryony simply smiled at Alder and went back to her forkwork.

The shock and embarrassment had an immediate and deflating effect on Alder’s cock and with Bryony turned away he was able to remove his hands and, after a time, resume his work. He kept his back to Bryony and tried not to think of her brown breasts. It was evident she did not wear a bikini top, did this mean she normally worked topless? He was worried, sort of scared but really rather hopeful this was the case. His penis twitched. Alder thought of other things.

The afternoon sun poured down and Alder thought his shorts must be dry. He looked up and saw Bryony had her brown back to him. He put his fork down and walked purposely towards the shed hoping Bryony wouldn’t turn so he wouldn’t see her breasts or say anything. He was almost past her brown shoulders when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Alder.” He had to look at her, he couldn’t avoid seeing those breasts. “You don’t need to be shy. Boys get erect. I don’t mind you having an erection—just let it be. But...”

Alder was standing embarrassed and quite amazed at what Bryony was saying. She had referred to his cock, had talked of his erection. He couldn’t avoid seeing her breasts.

“...if you’d rather not work with it, if you’d like me to do something to get rid of it anytime just let me know.” Her eyes looked down at his penis, Alder’s eyes followed her gaze and, as if on cue, it began an involuntary rise.

Alder watched with increasing dismay as it thickened. It rose from its resting state, swinging up to the right before reaching the horizontal and then, lengthening away from his body, it continued its upward journey. The wrinkled foreskin drew slowly back revealing the smooth pinkness of the head, its little eye seeming to be looking up at Bryony. She was so close to him it was almost touching her. Alder looked back up from his penis to Bryony, red with embarrassment. Their eyes met.

“I can ease it, if you like, so it doesn’t get in the way of your work.” Bryony’s hand closed around the shaft.

The feeling for Alder was electric. No girl had ever touched his cock before. He could not believe this was happening, did not know what to do. Bryony’s hand moved pulling the free skin of his cock upwards to cover the shiny head and then down exposing it once more. “Shall I?”

Alder nodded. He was confused, scared, embarrassed but he did not want Bryony to let go. He looked down but his gaze stopped at her breasts, he looked quickly away but realised, given the situation, there could be no objection and he looked again. He was close to them, could see the detail of her nipples, the brown of the large areolae, the little nipples, the ring of little bumps around the areolae, the smooth brown curves and the valley between the breasts. Bryony’s hand continued its stroking. A gentle rhythmic beat on his foreskin as his penis head appeared and disappeared within the soft skin held in a circle of Bryony’s fingers. An action he was so used to performing on himself but this was very different, very much more exciting. Moreover as her hand moved so did her breasts, they swayed slightly from side to side. Alder had a great desire to touch them. He felt Bryony’s other hand lift and seem to weigh his scrotum before gently squeezing. It was all rather too much for Alder. He felt his balls tighten and he was spurting. A first shot of semen burst from his cock head and flew in a parabola to land two or three feet away from him on the warm upturned earth.

“There you are,” said Bryony, as the second pulse shot from his cock to land close to the first shot. Bryony continued her regular stroking as the third, fourth and then fifth shots left Alder’s penis to land nearer to them on the broken ground. “That’s better.” She squeezed the penis and more semen dribbled from it onto the ground. “All done.”

Alder turned away towards his fork, confused but happy, and Bryony patted his bottom. His penis began to droop. A little more semen came out, the drop lengthening and then hanging momentarily as a bead at the end of a strand of semen before falling to earth. “See, no need to worry about erections. I can take care of them.” She picked up her fork and went back to work as if nothing had happened.

Alder absently picked up his fork and went back to digging. His mind a turmoil from the erotic experience—he kept going over it in his mind—and the strangeness of it. He looked at Bryony still working away, firm legs in strong boots poking out from her skirt, breasts swinging freely. A scent of the orange flame coloured blossom drifted over the vegetable plot.

The hot afternoon wore on. Bryony brought him lemonade from the house. It felt very odd standing there naked with a topless Bryony drinking lemonade in the vegetable patch. Strange but very pleasant. It was such a wonderful place. Bryony went to put the glasses down and came back with a sprig of the orange blossom flower.

“Have you seen this before?” Alder indicated he had never seen it until he came to Mr. Carruthers’ Garden. “I hope to take some cuttings in the Autumn. It has a wonderful scent don’t you think?”

Alder sniffed at the flowers. It certainly had a strong scent. He’d noticed it all over the garden. Heady—he felt slightly disorientated.

“I don’t suppose you now much mind being naked in the garden. I expect you will want to strip off and be naked again next week, don’t you. I shall.”

Alder’s slightly muddled mind caught the implication. He was going to see Bryony naked. The effect was instantaneous. Once more his cock stiffened, pumping up until it was pointing up at Bryony.

“Oh dear,” said Bryony,” it’s happened again, “shall I?”

She did not wait for an answer but once more her fingers encircled his penis and began to pull. Carefully she rubbed the smooth skin back and forth across the shiny head. Bryony was tempted to get down on her knees and suck but she was being careful, despite the gently persuasive effect the orange blossom flowers had on the mind, not to take Alder too far, too quickly. Alder certainly was not going to raise any objection to having his penis manually stimulated by Bryony for the the second time that afternoon. He just stood there enjoying the touch and trying not to come too quickly. He was unsuccessful. Bryony’s other hand cupped his balls and he came, spurting onto the warm ground.

“Young men come so easily,” said Bryony, “it takes us girls a lot longer.”

Her hand was still on his softening penis, still slowly moving the foreskin, as she spoke. Through the haze of his just past orgasm Alder noted the reference to her own sexuality. He did not know what it signified but it held promise of more.

It was another glorious morning. The birds had been in full song as Alder bicycled up the road to Mr Carruthers’ house. It was the start of his third week in the garden. He had been whistling as he rode along completely at ease with the world. It was early but he was happy being up with the lark. He’d showered, grabbed his breakfast and headed off on the five miles to Mr. Carruthers’ Garden. It was down quiet country lanes most of the way so he had not minded at all. He had stopped to watch the roe deer coming across the stubble of the wheat field to disappear into the coppiced wood where he had lost sight of them in the shadows. It was a perfect cycle ride: though of course on a windy, rainy winter’s day it would have seemed interminable.

He was still whistling as he came down the garden path past the orange flame bush, its scent already strong in the early sun, towards the tool shed. He was thinking it would be good to take off his shirt and let the sweat raised by the bike ride evaporate and was starting to unbutton the front. It occurred to him he could take his jeans off too, which would be even cooler, but of course he could not repeat the embarrassment of the week before, though Bryony had said—perhaps she might again—he shouldn’t bother with clothes. She had also, he remembered, said... He stopped in delight. Bryony was there before him and again topless. She waved, her brown breasts bouncing.

He felt very welcome by Bryony’s warm greeting and her chatter about what they would achieve over the next two days. He almost forgot her state of undress until she said, “Well, get those things off and we’ll get started.”

It did not really seem appropriate to protest that he would rather stay dressed and so calmly he unlaced his boots and took off his trousers and shirt. His cock was behaving itself and stayed soft as he laced his boots up again. The trouble was, as he walked over to where Bryony was waiting, he became conscious of the way his soft penis was gently swinging from side to side as he walked. It was only a gentle motion but enough to just tap the sheathed head against either thigh and to swing his scrotum to touch first one thigh then the other. Consciousness lead to him thinking he must not think about his cock or about Bryony’s breasts and that lead to stirring. He began to thicken. It was obvious Bryony saw the change—she was looking at it.

“Shall I help you with that before we start?”

Alder nodded dumbly. It was not an idea he could resist and this was very clearly evidenced by his penis not merely thickening but rising strongly in jerks to stand proud in front of him. Bryony smiled at him.

“It’s an easy thing, a very natural thing, in the garden.” She reached out and once again began to masturbate Alder, her right index finger and thumb forming a circle.

“Such smooth skin with the little eye right at the top,” said Bryony. She’d squatted down to look at the end of his cock. It was inches from her and, indeed, pointed right at her face. Bryony kept her rhythm, stroking Alder’s cock backwards and forwards. “You’ve a nice cock.”

It came into Alder’s mind the idea that it would be so easy just to press his penis forward to touch Bryony’s lips. He thought of his penis pushing open those lips, and then it came to him the idea that she might actually take him in, given her position—but he did not of course dare to push forward and Bryony gave no such indication—but the idea was enough—more than enough, “Bryony I...” His warning was, of course, too late. A jet of hot semen hit Bryony with some force on her cheek.

“Alder, really...” was all Bryony said before the next jet shot onto her lips. She laughed, starting to rise and look at Alder’s ecstatic but appalled face. The next jet caught her on her breasts and the last spattered on her tummy.

Alder stared at Bryony’s face as his semen dripped from her cheek. It was actually on her lips. He could not believe it—his cum on her mouth—what a thing to have done! And then, and then she actually licked it off her lips. His mind was confusion so he looked down and there was the rest of it on her brown breasts and tummy.

“Oh, Bryony, I am sorry.” He put his hand out and wiped his cum off her breasts and then realised he was committing a further error in touching them without permission. He drew back his hand in a hurry, “I didn’t mean to...”

“That’s all right Alder. Really. My fault for getting too near at the wrong time. It took me quite by surprise—as you can see! I expect you feel better now don’t you? So it’s time for us to get to work don’t you think.”

Mr. Carruthers, coming down the garden mid morning, was pleased to see Alder naked, “Excellent,” he remarked, “to see you joining in the custom of the garden and divesting yourself of your clothes.”

Alder was embarrassed but whether by his own or Mr. Carruthers’ nakedness was not clear. He stammered some words about how good it was to work in the garden and how comfortable it was in the hot weather to be naked.

“I’m surprised at you though, Bryony, with your skirt on,” and he waved the spray of the Orange Blossom Bush he was carrying in her direction sending its scent across the garden. Bryony laughed and Alder stared as she undid her skirt and let it fall to the ground. She was naked beneath and his eyes took in the fullness of her now naked hips and the wild patch of black curly hair.

“Better?” she said to Mr. Carruthers, bending down to pick up the blue denim and giving Alder a fine view of her round bottom. Despite the presence of Mr. Carruthers he began to harden.

“Just right, my dear.” Mr Carruthers smiled as he started to walk on, “though look at the effect it is having on young Alder. You young people...” And he ambled off to tour his garden.

“Well,” said Bryony, turning back to Alder and pointedly looking at his hips, “what indeed could have brought that on? We can’t seem to keep you down can we? Perhaps we should strap it down.” She walked towards Alder who could not take his eyes off the triangle between Bryony’s hips and his cock, completely out of control, pointed rigidly at her, foreskin rolling back. Bryony bent and took hold of Alder’s penis pretending to try and pull it down against his thigh.

“We could perhaps strap it with some twine to your thigh.” She pulled it a bit harder down, “though I think we would have to wind quite a lot around it to hold it in place!” As she had done earlier she squatted down to get closer to it. This action of course opened her legs and Alder caught a glimpse of pinkness before it was obscured by Bryony’s head. This time Bryony, instead of just looking at his penis, did just what Alder had imagined before, she took it into her mouth. The shock of the sudden warm wetness and the realisation of what she was doing made Alder gasp. He could feel Bryony’s tongue actually licking his cockhead in her mouth. It was wonderful, better even than Bryony’s hand. He could feel every slight movement, the rolling of the tongue around the smooth skin and the tickling right underneath with the tip of her tongue. He shut his eyes as he arched his back, pushing his hard cock forward into Bryony’s mouth. Bryony rolled her tongue around the head for a time and then he felt a sliding of her lips up and down his cock simulating, he knew, the action of cock in vagina—something he had not yet experienced.

Mr. Carruthers had not actually gone and he peeked round the hedge and nodded to himself. His garden was having its usual effect or, rather, the Orange Blossom Bush was having its subtle but inevitable effect on young minds. His own penis stirred but, he reminded himself, Jessica and Becky would be along later and it was so much more comfortable to be sucked whilst lying in your deck chair than be standing like Alder. Of course once upon a time when he was young he could remember... but that was a long time ago.

Despite having already come once that morning Bryony’s hot mouth and slippery tongue were bringing Alder to orgasm. He was conscious of the mistake he had made earlier that morning, “Bryony I think I’m going to come soon, so you’d better...”

Bryony let go of his penis and it bobbed wetly upwards as she released it from between her lips. She looked up at him, “This’ll be a lot better than you coming all over me and making such a mess!”

All Alder could think to say to that was, “yeah.” He smiled weakly down at Bryony. She in return winked, stuck her pink tongue out and tickled the end of his penis—just licking it over the little eye. This was too much, “Bryony I am...”

Bryony got the message and as Alder felt the semen welling up he watched her open lips simply slide over his dome to envelop the head. He began to come, the pleasure heightened by the thought his semen was going right into her mouth, there down below him.

It was indeed. Hot spurts of viscous fluid appeared in Bryony’s mouth. Not exactly filling it as, after all, Alder had already come once that morning but it was a respectable ejaculation. She let the penis rest on her tongue for a while before she swallowed and sucked gently on the now wilting penis to remove the last seepings.

“Oh Bryony, thank you, thank you. That was, was lovely. You really are great, great to be with, to work with, to...” Alder wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“And see no mess at all. All gone.” Bryony smiled, “perhaps you’ll last now the rest of the day—though I doubt it!”

After lunch Bryony sometimes liked a little rest. She lay on her back feeling very content, eyes closed and knees open to the sun. She was thinking that she had better be careful not to go to sleep when she heard a noise. Alder had come up and, whilst he was trying not to, he was finding it very difficult not to stare right between her legs. Bryony knew she was exposed. Her sex would be open, the labia major, with its curly hair, apart revealing the folds within. Alder could certainly see her vagina and, if he had very good eyesight or got closer, her little clitoris. She was not sure she was not a little wet which would make her sex glisten in the bright sunlight. She let her legs open a bit more, “you can go closer if you like,” she murmured sleepily.

Alder pretended not to understand, going red in the face at the thought that Bryony had realised what he was looking at.

“Between my legs, silly!”

Alder was torn between embarrassment and falling to his knees to inspect. He fell.

His visual inspection was careful and minute. Bryony waited patiently anticipating that any moment he would touch—surely he must see she was becoming excited by seeing the thickening of her lips as the blood pumping into them and her clit standing up.

“Come on Alder, return the compliment. Suck me now!”

Alder hadn’t expected that. He’d been plucking up courage to ask permission to touch but now he was being told not to use his fingers but his lips and tongue. He bent and tentatively touched Bryony with his tongue. Naturally being inexperienced his tongue went straight to a rather more prominent area, nearer the top than the bottom, in the middle rather than either side. His tongue touched Bryony’s clitoris. She jumped in pleasurable shock.

“Ooh no, move around first and take the long way around to there.”

Alder let his tongue slowly make its way clockwise round the very edge of her sex, sometimes brushing on the curly black hairs framing the sex, other times his tongue just running over the edge of the labia major. He was surprised by the wetness welling up. It seemed, if he moved further in, he would next be licking not so much skin as a puddle of hot liquid. It was an exploration he was keen to make. He began to lap until his tongue found the entrance to Bryony’s vagina. He rolled his tongue around the edge and then pushed it in as far as he could go. He pulled it out and pushed it in again and again. He thought to himself in amazement, “I’m fucking Bryony with my tongue.” Slowly he let his tongue slide upwards towards the clitoris. This time he was slow and careful, circling around it gently a few times before gradually bringing his tongue closer and closer in. Bryony was wriggling from side to side. Alder brought his fingers into play slipping first one, then two and then three fingers into her and rubbing them in and out simulating intercourse. His tongue flicked faster and Bryony went rigid for quite a few moments before gradually relaxing back and patting him on the head.

“Stop, stop, enough, enough.”

Alder took his head out from between her thighs and looked down at where he had been. Bryony’s sex was so much wetter than it had been when he started. The liquid had even leaked out wetting part of her brown thighs. He had found the experience exciting. His already well exercised penis stood rigid.

“You can fuck me if you like.”

Alder did not need encouragement and was on top of her in a trice and, given Bryony’s lubricated state, slipped in almost before he knew what had happened. He could hardly believe that his cock was actually in Bryony, right in her. Bryony’s legs closed over his back locking him in position and Alder began moving his hips to push his cock backwards and forwards in Bryony. She kissed him full on the lips and her tongue sneaked through into his mouth. Traditional missionary position style intercourse ensued. It cannot be said that Alder’s gushing penis filled Bryony to the brim. Far from it: Alder had very little semen to expel but the hard electric feel of his third orgasm of the day was even better than the morning’s efforts.

The scent of the orange flame blossom drifted over them.