The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

I casually walked across the room to silence the alarm buzzer. I had never really needed an alarm to wake up on Sundays for church, but as I couldn’t rely on my family to wake me for it, it seemed like a prudent precaution.

I had always tried to make God and church a big part of my life. I had been trying for years to get my parents to come to church with me and accept God into their hearts...but they said it wasn’t for them. Jesus preaches acceptance, and so I accept my parents for whom they are. I pray for them every day, though. I still hope someday they’ll decide their souls are worth saving.

I silenced the alarm and went back to the mirror to finish getting ready. I was wearing my finest Sunday dress today. It was a beautiful flowing white gown that stopped just short of my ankles. It had some old-timey ruffles and light blue ribbons that combined into a really pleasing effect. As I had just recently celebrated my 18th birthday, the pastor had asked me to help lead part of the service today; I was honored and wanted to look my best.

I made sure I hadn’t wrinkled the gown and went back to brushing my long brown hair. I always brushed for 100 strokes...I was on 76. Janie, my best friend from church and school, had once said it was foolish to be vain enough to spend so much time on my appearance. I asked her, “If God isn’t worth the effort, then who is?” I noticed her hair looked much nicer the following Sunday.

I finished getting ready and went downstairs for breakfast. “Good morning!” I chirped.

My cheery greeting was met with a grunt from behind my father’s newspaper and a sleepy, “Morning” from my mother while she cooked some eggs and yawned. “What time will you be back from church today, Ally?” she asked.

“I have a chastity club meeting afterwards, and then I wanted to stop by that party planning store after that, too,” I said. “I still haven’t done anything for the party you insist I have...so...2:00? And please stop calling me Ally! My name is Allison.”

“I know what your name is. I gave it to you, remember?” she quipped. “And I’ve called you Ally since you were 1. And come on…you’re 18. You have to have a party. And your parents can’t plan a party for an 18 year old girl...that’s just wrong!”

“But that’s just it…I’m already 18. I turned 18 two weeks ago. My friends all turned 18 without their parents making them have parties. Why do I still have to have a party? Whatever. I don’t want to fight about it,” I conceded. “I said I’ll have a party, and I will. You and Dad can go wherever you want to go and I’ll have my friends from church and school over, ok? Now...can I have some eggs? I have to leave in a couple minutes.”

Not sure whether she actually won the battle or not, but satisfied with the outcome, my mother passed the eggs. I said grace, ate as fast as I could without getting any on my dress, and hopped in my car.

It was a beautiful service at church. I led the Lord’s Prayer and several others as well. The pastor even mentioned me in his sermon as an upstanding member of the church. After the service I helped the pastor to greet the congregation before heading back inside for the chastity club meeting in the church basement. I was looking forward to the club meeting almost as much as the service, not so much because of the content (although I do believe in maintaining chastity until the sanctity of marriage), but also because I would get to see my boyfriend.

My parents didn’t approve of Maurice. I didn’t know whether it was because I met him at church (in the chastity club), because he didn’t approve of them as non-believers, or because he was black. Whatever the reason was, we fought about it a lot. But, as it was their house it made it hard for him to come and visit me while they were at home. Unfortunately for us, since my mother didn’t work she was almost always at home. That made it great to see him anytime I could.

Maurice and I had hit it off the moment we met. Our religious beliefs were right in tune with each other and we felt the same way politically as well. We did the same things for fun. Also, very importantly to me, he felt strongly about the importance of chastity before marriage. That was quite rare in a boy these days, and it made me feel a lot more secure in our relationship. I knew it was something I just didn’t have to worry about. I was worried, however, about what would happen to us when we went away to college. It was already the end of our senior year and that time was rapidly approaching, but we had both agreed to cross that bridge when we came to it.

After the club meeting Maurice and I went out to lunch like we always do.

“I don’t know why they’re making me have a party,” I complained. “I wouldn’t mind having some friends over. I wouldn’t mind going out to dinner or something but they want me to have a party. When will they realize that I’m not them?”

“I can’t answer that,” he responded. “They want to make you happy, but they seem a bit lost how to do it. I’ll tell you what. How about I come with you to the party store after lunch? We’ll figure something out together. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. That’s how it sounds.” I smiled. Maurice always knew how to cheer me up. I reached across the table, grasped his hand, and squeezed. The warmth of his hand and smile made me blush and turn back to my lunch.

The rest of lunch passed uneventfully. We discussed the church sermon, our friends from church, his school and mine, and of course, what I wanted for my party. “Nothing big…that’s what my parents want. I think they would be happy if they came home and found the house trashed and an empty keg,” I joked. “I just want a quiet get together with friends. We’ll play games and maybe watch a movie. If we drink anything it’ll be lemonade or Cherry Coke.” Maurice agreed, of course.

After lunch we gave each other a kiss, keeping it to a quick peck to avoid temptation, and parted to meet again at the party store.

The party store was pretty much everything I had expected and nothing that I had hoped. It was mostly row upon row of streamers and balloons for kids’ parties and invitations and favors to baby and wedding showers. Nobody went to this kind of store to plan a birthday party for an 18 year old girl unless they were being ironic. I was about to just give up and leave when Maurice called me over to the corner of the store.

“What about this stuff? It looks pretty generic and inoffensive...”

When I got to the corner of the store he was in I found a rather decent selection of, as he said, generic and inoffensive invitations and party favors. It all seemed a little too generic for my tastes until I found a set of plain white invitations with little red cherries embossed on the top. They first caught my eye because of my joke earlier about drinking Cherry Coke at the party, but they actually looked quite nice.

“Hey, these are kind of cute,” I said. “We could make it a cherry theme! We’ll have Cherry Coke, cherry cheesecake, and red colors everywhere...and besides...these invitations are actually pretty good quality. Look at the really nice embossing on the cherries!”

Maurice took the packet of invitations from my hand and inspected them carefully, paying special attention to the cherry on top. “They do look pretty good—whatever you want is what we’ll do, Allison.”

Fifteen minutes later we left the store with two packs of ten invitations, some red balloons, streamers, and some cheesy party favors. Before getting in our respective cars to head home I gave Maurice another goodbye kiss. I gave him a better, longer kiss this time. I was quite excited to have finally figured something out for the party, and he deserved something for helping me. Maurice just kind of went with the flow.

When I got back home my parents weren’t there, so I went upstairs and changed out of my dress and pulled out my purchases. With the party being this Saturday I didn’t have any time to waste. I needed to get these invitations out tomorrow which meant writing them today. I pulled out my list of invitees and got to work: Maurice of course, several friends from school and a bunch of members of the church (all friends from the chastity club). It came to about 15 in all. With so few people to invite, I didn’t figure it would me take very long, but I kept getting distracted. The embossed cherry at the top of the invitation kept drawing my eye. It really was solid craftsmanship. At one point I actually found myself just running my finger over it for several minutes.

I finished writing out and addressing the invitations and decided to figure out what I found so fascinating about that little cherry on top. I pulled out one of the remaining invitations, set it down in front of me, and stared at it. I ran my finger over it. I inspected it from every angle. There was something fascinating about it, but I just couldn’t figure out what it was. By the time I heard my parents come home, I had been staring at that little cherry for over two hours. When I finally looked away it was practically burned onto my retinas. No more cherries for me...at least until Saturday.

I went downstairs and found my mother busying herself in the kitchen making dinner. “Hey Ally, how was your day?”

“Fine.” I ignored the diminutive of my name. “I’ve got my cherry. I mean...I need some cherries...for my party...” My face burned cherry red.

“Freudian slip, darling?” my mother chuckled. “No problem, what are they for?”

“Cherry cheesecake and Cherry Coke and stuff,” I told her. “I’m going to have a cherry themed party.” I was embarrassed enough to want to just run upstairs and hide.

Mom went back to making dinner and I thought about my “Freudian slip.” I wasn’t embarrassed by still having my cherry. Mom knew that. It was quite the opposite, in fact. I was proud of it! I intend to hold onto my cherry for a long time!

“Whatever, Mom. I have some homework to finish,” I said. “I’m going to go do it before dinner.”

Once I got back to my room I started to clear my desk. I wanted to finish my last math assignment, but that darned cherry caught my eye again. Now though, it just made me think of my own cherry. I considered how long I would have it and who would take it away from me. I had always known I would have my cherry until marriage. I had never really considered before who would take it, though. Would it be Maurice? Would it be some man I hadn’t even met yet? Maybe it would be a man I already knew, but just not in that way. Maybe it would be a boy from school or church. Whoever it was, it was an intriguing thought.

I hoped it would be Maurice. I loved him and we were right together. We hadn’t really talked about it because we both knew we would wait, but I could imagine how it would be. We would kiss. It would be a much longer, harder, and more passionate kiss than we shared today. We would press our warm bodies together in an intimate embrace. He would slowly, lovingly remove my wedding dress while I helped him remove his tux. We would lie down on the bed and lovingly explore each other’s bodies for the first time. Finally, he would look into my eyes and ask if I was ready. I would smile, nod my head, and he would press into me. It would be a beautiful moment…one I would never forget.

I got so lost in my fantasy that I didn’t get a chance to finish my homework before dinner. Then, after dinner when I tried again, I got lost in the same fantasy. I shook my head and decided a cold shower might help me to cool off and get the fantasy out of my head. Before I went I stuffed the invitation in my desk drawer so I wouldn’t see it when I got out of the shower. I really did need to finish my homework.

My plan worked beautifully. I cooled off and got that lustful fantasy out of my mind. I got my shower out of the way and when I got out I was able to get my homework done. Win, win, win. I set my alarm, said my prayers, and went to bed ready for school the next day.