The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“And that is why women should not have sex until they are married,” said the red-headed nymphomaniac.

“We hope all you dedicated virgins out there, as well as the married ones who can have sex, enjoyed the presentation,” piped in the blonde nymphomaniac as 250 Young Republicans applauded loudly.

A tall leggy blonde about 30 in a very expensive pale blue suit ran up to Kristen and Stacy as they walked off-stage. The next lecture at the state Young Republican Leadership Conference was going to begin. It was about election security, and people were streaming to the hotel bar.

“You girls were just excellent,” gushed the perfectly coifed woman with a slight upper-crust accent, known as Alexandra Van Pelt, even better known in the society pages as Debutante of the Year for 1989.

“I know this was a tough job. When state committee told me I had to provide an “Abstinence is better than Birth Control” lecture I didn’t know what to do.

“Thank goodness your history professor told me Stacy you had confided in her you had never slept with a man, and to find out you hadn’t too Kristen, wow, it was like a godsend. I hated to put two college girls into such a high-pressure situation but you did a marvelous job. You really came through for the club.”

“Thanks Miss Van Pelt,” said Stacy a bit cocky. “We’re both athletes at the university, we know about coming through in the clutch.”

Kristen smiled but shifted her feet a bit and said nothing. With their job done, she wanted to get back to school as soon as possible and tie up her girlfriend for an afternoon of bondage sex.

“Well you girls did a great job,” said Van Pelt. “You should be rewarded. Both of you have been in the Young Republicans for months and here am I the president and we’ve never really gotten to know each other. I insist you come to my penthouse tonight around 7 for dinner.”

The two looked at each other. Outside of having a lot of sex with each other, since it was a school night the only plans the lesbians had was watching Law & Order. Their Mistress, Dr. Martha Satyriasis (who had gotten a good laugh when told of their lecture), had not given them any instructions that would interfere with going.

“Sure,” said Kristen, “We’ll be there. But we gotta go now.”

“Then she jabbed the neck of the bottle into my vagina and laughed. She had this look of pure evil. I couldn’t stop her. I just lay there on the floor helpless. The chains were too strong and I was still weak from the drug.”

Annie Harpring stopped for a moment as she buried her head in a handkerchief quickly provided by Dean Smith and sobbed loudly. They were in the dean’s office by themselves but her wails could be heard in the hallway.

“It hurt, it hurt so-o-o-o much. I told her but she didn’t care. She slapped me really hard on the face. Then she just grinned and said “You’re a basketball player. You know what the Indiana coach said: If it’s rape, relax and enjoy it.", and sister believe me you are going to get raped but good.

“Then she wedged the bottle in a bit tighter and then she bent down and started biting on my clitoris. Not playfully, but really hard. It hurt so-o-o much, blood started trickled out of it and down my thighs. She began licking the blood on my legs. And then...”

“That’s enough,” said Smith, who being on the stuffy side was close to a complete state of shock. “The woman is a beast. How come you didn’t report this to me or campus security?”

“What could I do?!” wailed the beautiful blonde who had turned down a Playboy centerfold spread. “She’s my team’s academic advisor. She could tell the coach my grades are slipping and I should be benched until they go up. She could make sure I don’t make the conference all-academic team and end a chance at maybe graduate school..She knew she could turn me into her slut-puppet and use me.

“I just prayed it was just me she did this...horror to. But when I found out about poor little Cynthia I had to speak up. That kid idolized her and she used her like she did me, just her little fucktoys.”

No one had ever used the word “fucktoy” in front of the esteemed Dean Smith, Annie’s final word searing his morality to its core. He had served in World War II and the only person he had ever felt more hatred for than he felt for Dr. Heather Slick now was Hitler, but it was close.

Harpring went back to crying into the hankie.

“There, there Miss Harpring,” he said, gently patting her head. “This monster will be taken care of in two days. Go back to your room and relax. The playoffs are coming up and we don’t want you to worry. Justice will be served.”

Annie gave the dean back the hankie soaked with her tears. She left the office with her head bowed and still sniffling.

When she got into the main hallway, Annie stood erect, making her full 6-foot tall presence be felt. She loped in a calm manner across the campus back to her dorm room, where she knew Tracy waited to have sex with her.

About halfway there Harpring’s glistening smile spread across her face.

“If you girls are 21 I have some nice Chianti that will go well with the stuffed grouse we are having for dinner,” said the tall, pencil-thin blonde with wavy hair down to her shoulders.

Stacy and Kristen looked at each other. Both came from working class backgrounds, their families probably wouldn’t have been able to afford to send them to college if they hadn’t gotten scholarships.

They had gotten much more sophisticated during their college years but neither was sure exactly what Chianti and stuffed grouse were. A big juicy steak and a few beers would have made them happy.

“Uh, we’re both 21 so that’s fine, but not too much for me, I’m trying to cut down on Chianti,” said Stacy who got a dirty look from Kristen, who knew she would now get more of whatever this stuff was.

It seemed the only thing the refined Alexandra Van Pelt had in common with the pair was they were members of the local Young Republican club, which she headed.

Before coming to the university to teach history, Stacy’s lesbian lover had been an aide in the Reagan White House, where since she was married and had two young children no one questioned her sexuality.

Although Ronald Reagan was suppose to be the “family values” president, she had found plenty of other similarly bisexual or gay women to have affairs with in D.C.

“I felt for national security reasons the president himself should know the truth,” explained the professor one night while they were necking and an old Reagan movie happened to be on TV. “I was really worried about his reaction but when I told him I was bisexual he was OK with it. He said he was from Hollywood so he was used to that sort of stuff, he had been a friend of Rock Hudson’s.

“He said it would be our secret unless someone had to know for security reasons. He knew his aides were a bit on the homophobic side. The man kept his word. He told no one. He even called up the university president here to get me a job when he left office.”

Her lover knew Stacy liked a lighter course load during softball season and Alexandra had spent a summer as her White House intern. She arranged for Stacy to get college credit for being active in the Young Republicans.

Kristen was not political, she wasn’t even registered to vote at the time, but when Stacy begged her to join with her and get the same deal, she had agreed.

It beat algebra class and maybe she would make a good business connection for after graduation. As Stacy had pointed out, we better have fulfilling careers because neither of them was going to get married and raise a family.

Tracy of course thought they were both idiots, which greatly relieved Stacy. Tracy was not exactly the Young Republican type and if she had been interested in joining Stacy wasn’t sure what to do.

Luckily, most of the research for their lecture had been done before both had been ensnared by Dr. Satyriasis, who stunned their brains and then programmed to be her nympho-slaves.

As they ate, Kristen and Stacy noticed this Chianti drink was pretty good. It gave them a pleasant buzz. And the grouse, which they learned was the state bird of Pennsylvania, was tasty. They thought Alexandra would be a snooty rich bitch but she had been nothing but the gracious host.

As the two tall blondes and the shapely red-head took their drinks to the sitting room, Kristen and Stacy’s faces began to look a bit flushed. Their surgically enlarged clits had not had sex in several hours now and they were howling to be satisfied.

Tracy had lasted 5 1/2 hours of uninterrupted sex with Annie before tiring out. She lay on Harpring’s bed fast asleep. Annie lovingly ran her fingers through Tracy’s dark curly locks.

She didn’t think it was humanly possible for anyone to love someone more than she loved Tracy. However, both had agreed for the team’s sake to keep their affair under wraps until after they graduated in the spring. Then they would drive to Vermont and get married and reveal their love to the whole world.

What a total waste her life had been until she had become a nympho-slave Annie thought.

She wished Dr. Martha gave her more orders to obey. She loved serving her Mistress in any way she could. All life was about was having sex, with loved ones and others, and being a loyal slave to your Mistress as far Annie was concerned. Anything else was incidental.

Martha had rewarded her loyalty by giving her phone number to her. No other nympho-slave had it. That knowledge made Annie’s cunt juice up as she dialed the number.

“Hello Mistress? It’s Nympho-Slave Annie”

“Hello Nympho-Slave Annie. OK, let’s get it over with. How many orgasms did you have today?”

“Only 32, Mistress, you made me spend the morning with the dean guy or I would’ve had more. Are you displeased with that amount?”

Martha knew that Annie always wanted to have more orgasms then any of her other nympho-slaves. She is so darn competitive thought Martha.

“No Annie, your Mistress is pleased. You may orgasm for Mistress.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!, AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!,” groaned Anne as she convulsed in sexual glee.

“You know Annie, nymphomania just means you have a lot more sex than normal for that specific woman, you could have 3 orgasms a day and be a nymphomaniac or you could have 30 and not be a nymphomaniac,” said Dr. Martha.

“Well Mistress, I want to make sure to have as many orgasms as possible then I’ll definitely have a lot more than normal,” replied Annie. “I am your true nymphomaniac-slave.”

“Fine. Now how did your stage in Operation Slicky Dicky go,” said Martha getting down to business.

“I obeyed your commands to the letter,” said Annie as she detailed to Satyriasis her meeting with Dean Smith and her betrayal of her best friend.

“Excellent Nympho-Slave Annie. You know you must repeat that story at the hearing in two days”

“Yes Mistress, I live to do anything you say.”

“Great, now Nympho-Slave Annie you have pleas...”

“Ah Mistress?”

“Yes, Nympho-Slave Annie?” said Martha stunned that someone as totally subservient to her will would dare interrupt her.

“You’re about to tell me I pleased you again and I can orgasm for you.”

“Yes, Nympho-Slave Annie. Don’t you want to orgasm again?”

“Oh yes, Mistress. Very much!! It’s just that you will tell me to have one orgasm and...well, I’d like more than one if possible. Of course, I am your slave with no mind of my own and I will obey any command you give.”

For someone with no mind Annie Harpring sure had made a heck of a lot of demands the last few days thought Martha. Well, if she wants to be the slut of all sluts, why not?

“OK. You have pleased your Mistress, Nympho-Slave Annie. You will orgasm in 15 seconds and then have another orgasm every 10 minutes for the next two hours. You will then go to sleep.”

“Thank y-o-o-u-u-u-u, M-i-s-t-r-e-s-s!” sighed Annie as the first of 12 upcoming orgasms ripped into her.