The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As Jerry followed the path down through the woods below the school, his thoughts were a dream that was all the more wonderful for being true. Last night, he thought, I had Nicki. And not just to fuck: she got out those gorgeous great tits and offered them to me in her cupped hands like two big pink grapefruit. She showed them off to me, kneaded them like dough, squeezed them at the bottoms till they bulged like balloons. And then she wrapped my cock in them and pressed them in tight while I fucked them, and when I was near to coming she got her head down just in time for me to push the head up into her mouth and let her suck my load.

And the night before it was Saskia, the sexiest thing in the ballet class. She doesn’t just do classical: she did a strip-dance that would start a riot in any sex club. But her ballet training has its uses. I had her do a ninety-degree split, one foot on the floor and one on the dresser, and hold it while I fucked her spread wide like that. It must have been a strain, she was running with sweat by the time I finished, but she never wavered.

And the night before... I bet Sandra’s sorry she ever teased me. I made her crawl—literally, grovel naked at my feet and kiss my toes and tell me she was Master’s fuck-slut, Master’s cunt-slave, Master’s sex-toy. And then touch her toes and ask me to paddle her for being a cock-teaser—and I did. And then kneel on the bed and spread her red hot cheeks and ask me as nicely as she knew how, pretty please with kisses, to please fuck her up the ass till she cried... and I did.

Which shall I have tonight? Maxine, Sheila, Joan? And what can I do with them that I haven’t done already?

Half a dozen of the foxiest girls in school, and I bet none of them can figure out what’s happened. They probably haven’t even realised it started with that psych experiment and my hypno machine—I made sure they didn’t remember a thing at the time. All they know is that when I say “Ur Hekua Setcheh”, they have to do what I tell them—even if they’re screaming inside—till they leave my sight again.

Maxine. Yes, I reckon Maxine—if I see her. She was giving me some filthy looks in class, she needs a lesson. I think I’ll make her...

His dream flew to pieces as something hit his shins and something his back, and he tumbled. He caught himself painfully on his palms and then hands were grabbing him everywhere as he tried to rise, he opened his mouth and something dry pushed into it, he closed his teeth automatically and someone pressed a thumb and finger into his cheeks till he opened them again, hard dry cloth pushed down his tongue, a band wrapped round his head and jerked tight.

He half stumbled, half was lifted to his feet. He stood struggling to breathe through his nose, his mouth wadded with cloth, and stared at the girls who had just been at the front of his mind. Saskia and Joan held his arms. Maxine stood in the middle of the path, hands on her hips, and grinned savagely. “NOW say your goddamn magic words!” she gloated.

Jerry fought hopelessly to tongue out the gag against the scarf tied around his head. Maxine stalked closer, shaking with mingled triumph and fury, while Sandra, Sheila and Nicki stared. “You think you’re so fucking clever!” she snarled. “You think we can’t talk to each other and work it out! I don’t know what you did to us, but you’re going to undo it, or ELSE!” She stared up and down the path. “Quick, get him out of sight—Sheil, get the other scarf and tie his hands —”

Between them, with slaps, punches and kicks, they hustled him through the trees for a couple of minutes till they were well clear of the path. In a small clearing Maxine waved a halt, and turned. Jerry faced her tottering; his head was ringing from several backhand smacks from Nicki.

“So, smart guy,” she grinned, “Sandra tells me you’re into paddling. Someone find a nice tough switch—Nick, get his pants down —”

“Hey!” said Sandra. “I thought you said we’d tell him to fix our heads, and if he wouldn’t —”

“Uh, uh!” smiled Maxine evilly. “First we beat him up, THEN we tell him what to do! Come on, San, don’t you have some scores to settle with this bastard?” Sandra brightened.

“Now you mention it...” Her face lit up. “I know what I want to do with him! The bastard treated us like dirt—I want him to get some dirt!” SHe pointed through the trees. “There’s a mudhole just down there—I want to see him come out filthy, like he made me feel!”

“Hey, why not? We’ve got time for everything. C’mon, guys!” Jerry’s jeans were already round his knees; the girls half dragged him down the slope to the ditch. “How ‘bout it, San, look mucky enough for you?”

“Yeah, great!” Sandra started for him, but Saskia and Joan didn’t wait: they thrust him forward. With his legs tangled and his hands bound, all he could do was curl up before he hit the cold slime.

He squirmed frantically and got his head into the air to hear the girls shrieking with laughter. “Come out, mucky-pup!” jeered Sandra close to him, and her hand clutched into his dripping hair and pulled him toward the side. “Come and get it —”

And then, incredibly, beside his ear she whispered “Master, be quick, before they notice!” Her hands came down on his face, one pulling down the scarf and the other tugging out the gag.

Even Jerry’s friends would not have called him a quick thinker, but he could take a hint. He sucked air and yelled “Ur Hekua Setcheh—FREEZE!”

And shook the water out of his eyes to see six rigid figures staring at him in horror.

He got his breath back, and slowly smiled. “Untie me—slave,” he told Sandra. Then, with an afterthought, “The rest of you—stand to attention till I’m ready for you.” As he turned, he saw five girls jerk into ramrod poses.

Tugging up his jeans on dry land, he studied Sandra’s face. “Okay—why? The truth.”

“Master, I couldn’t lie to you even if you hadn’t ordered it,” she said softly. “I don’t know how it happened—maybe you did something different to me, maybe what you did just triggered something that was always in me. But when you made me your slave—when you forced me to crawl to you, when you used me without caring how you hurt or degraded me—I loved it. I felt like I’d been waiting for a guy who could do that to me.” She gave a short laugh. “Okay, you cheated, doing it with that machine—but I don’t care. You are my Master, and I want it to stay that way.”

“So when Maxine —”

“She already had the other girls with her when she came to me. I knew the only way I could save you was to go along with them and wait for a chance.” Maxine’s stiff brace did not shift, but she looked daggers at Sandra from the corners of her eyes. “Master—you’ve got me forever, you don’t need a magic word to make me yours—won’t you let them go? I was lucky, but they HATE what you’ve done to them. You’ve got one happy slave, can’t you spare five unwilling ones?”

“After this, I guess it does look safer,” Jerry admitted. “Okay, to please you—but not just yet. They owe me one for this afternoon.” He looked round, and smiled a smile that made the five stiffly standing girls shiver. “Okay, gang. We’re going to head back to my room together, and you’re all going to chatter and giggle and look like my best friends. Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, stretched out on his bed, Jerry was deeply content. Joan, Nicki and Sheila were crowded round him, all as naked as the next, their attention desperately focussed on cleaning every spot of mud from his skin with their busily working tongues. As they finished licking one spot clean they carefully dried it with handfulls of their hair before moving on to another. The girls had licked him from his toes to his chest, and as far as he was concerned they could go on licking him all day; he had already told them a couple of times to take more care drying him, just to make it last longer. Meanwhile his hands roamed happily, tweaking tits, pinching bottoms and goosing pussies, while his victims struggled to stay focussed on their work.one spot they hadn’t licked was his cock, because that was reserved for Maxine. She had already finished licking every inch from his asshole up, and now she had her lips wrapped hungrily round his shaft, her eyes streaming from the effort of trying to get another inch of him down her throat. With a hand in her hair, he slowed her pumping action: she’d love to make him come and finish it, but she wasn’t getting off that quickly.

On the other side of the room, bent over his desk, nude Saskia was sobbing as Sandra laid the paddle yet again across her red hot buns. “Forty!” panted Sandra. Jerry smiled, lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, and with a sob of relief Saskia hurried back to drop to her knees beside him and add her tongue to the clean-up crew.

“Okay,” Jerry smiled, looking round and running his hand over four painfully glowing well-paddled butts bent around him, “who’s next?” The head in his lap flinched slightly. “Oh, yeah—Maxine! But you’re doing such a great job there, I’d hate you to stop. So...” he grinned, “you’re just gonna have to get your butt up without stopping, aren’t you?” He reached under her belly, found her clit and gave it a vicious pinch. “Up!”

With a despairing muffled groan Maxine straightened her legs, and stood effortfully bent at the hips, still gobbling him as she presented her ass to Sanda for the paddle. As the first swats landed she howled around her gag of flesh, adding a new and delightfull buzz to the sensations she was giving him.

Jerry shuddered with pleasure, hanging onto the orgasm that was ready to explode from him. Just a little more, he thought deliriously, around the thirtieth smack, when her butt’s aching and she thinks it can’t get worse for her, then I’m gonna come till she’s drowning in it.

And then... The girls would go away furious but unable to consider revenge again, and their memories would fade with their bruises, till in a month they would only have a vague idea that he had tried to mess around with them but they had slapped him down. And Sandra...

He caught her eye as she plied the paddle with glee, and she flashed him a smile of unconditional love. Sandra would stay, his worshipping slave, happy to kneel at his feet, to offer him her ass to beat or fuck, to serve his pleasure as he ordered. Didn’t they always say one volunteer was worth ten forced?

And if he ever felt like more... well, he still had the machine.