The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“...and then I pointed down and said ‘no, that’s Little Hiawatha, now take care of him with your tongue’,” said Tara with a laugh as her head reared back and her long, blonde, wavy hair flowed into the air, the sun making it shimmer even brighter than normal.

The three girls sharing the picnic table with her also convulsed in laughter, trying not to endanger their lunch in their glee as several pounded their hands on the wooden top.

“This place has been such a hoot, and so intellectually stimulating,” said Lara.

“Yeah, I see Dr. Oxmis has been intellectually stimulating you every night,” said Becky, who quickly ducked a piece of chicken salad thrown at her by Lara.

“Well, I’ve learned something,” said Joanie. “Women are equal no matter their color.”

“That’s nice,” said Tara.

“Yes, I’ve learned that a red-skinned woman can lick a pussy just as well as a white woman,” said Joanie, which just set off another round of guffaws.

“It’s been so much fun, and I think we all agree, no kidding around, that all of us have learned so much being here. The only downer is I wish Sandy was here to experience this with us,” said Becky. “We’re just one Pot short of having a perfect time.”

Everyone gave a brief sigh and nodded their heads in agreement.

“Yeah but she had to go to Australia, they’d been planning that for years; you know she’d be here if she could,” said Lara. “I promise, first thing when I see her at school, I’m taking her to a lesbian strip club and we’re going to have a wild night of sex, sex and more girl sex.”

“Count me in on that,” said Tara quickly.

“Me too,” piped in Becky.

“Me three,” said Joanie. “Oh my, it’s going to be lesbian orgy time for Sandy next time we see her, big time.”

At that moment, coming up the path, the girls saw Dr. Miriam Oxmis and they quieted down. Even if she was Lara’s lover, she was still their superior and knew to act appropriately if they wanted their college credit from her.

“Lara... I must see you now... it is urgent,” said Miriam in an emotionless tone as she stood straight as an arrow in front of the table.

“Sure baby – oops! – I mean doctor,” said Lara, remembering that her girlfriend wanted no public signs of their relationship. “I’m all yours.”

Lara threw the remnants of her lunch in the garbage can and headed off with the doctor. Instead of going back on the path to the reservation, Miriam guided the coed over a nearby hill, which led to a treeline and the border of the reservation.

“Hey girls, where do you think she’s taking Lara?” said Joanie. “Nothing there but grass until you hit the trees, can’t even see anything because of the hill.”

“Boy, for an important school leader you sure are stupid,” said Tara. “That’s the point, she is taking Lara to a place no one can see. It’s called a perfect make-out place, dummy. Doc’s urgent business is she needs her pussy licked.”

“I guess, but Miriam’s been acting weird the last day or so; I mean, she’s doing her job but not showing much joy about it,” said Becky.

“She’s just probably uncomfortable with the whole idea of dating one of her students,” said Tara. “She’ll come around. Then we can be one happy little tribe of lesbians.”

As Lara made her way down the hill, hand in hand with Miriam, she had the same thought as Tara—that her girlfriend was taking her to a new spot to have makeout. But Miriam had not said a word since the picnic table and frankly had not been very communicative period for the past 24 hours.

“Uh, Miriam, I have to get back to the aqueduct refitting pretty soon, so it has to be a quickie,” said Lara.

“It will be resolved, it will all be resolved shortly,” said Miriam in the same dry, toneless voice as before

Near the bottom of the hill, Miriam suddenly stopped. Lara was frankly a bit concerned. What was this all about? Miriam sure did not look horny, more spaced out.

“C’mon Doc, why did you bring me here,” asked Lara. “If we’re going to be lovers we have to be honest with each other.”

Miriam suddenly had a smile on her face and reached into the pocket of her shorts and produced a ring. It was a golden ring with some obvious Indian writing on the crown and sparkled in the bright sunlight as it looked brand new.

“Here Lara, this is my present to you, my gift to celebrate our new lives together,” said Miriam with some spring in her voice. “Please put it on. It would make me so happy.”

Lara looked at the ring in front of her.

It was quite beautiful and exotic looking. She gave a sigh and a small smile. All her worries had been for nothing, she thought, Miriam just wanted to be alone with her to give her an authentic Indian ring to celebrate their blooming relationship.

“This is so sweet, thank you Miriam,” said Lara as she kissed her on the cheek and then took the ring and put it on her finger. “What does it symbolize in Indian lore?”

As soon as Lara placed the ring on her finger she instantly felt a wave of sleepiness wash over her. Her eyes rolled up into her head and her body went limp. Miriam rushed over quickly to catch the now unconscious figure before Lara’s body could collapse to the ground.

Miriam held Lara in her arms, Lara’s free arm swinging wildly and loose with the ring still on it.

“Its called the “Ring of Slumber”,” said Miriam, now back to her emotionless voice, as she carried Lara’s body to a nearby spot where she knew her Master would be waiting.

Sandy looked at all the people scurrying around in white lab coats and the walls covered in a seemingly unending row of blinking computers as she followed Matt down the corridor of what she had been told was the surveillance unit for her friend Becky’s father’s large company.

After entering the car in front of Becky’s apartment, Matt had said little on the 45-minute drive.

“What the heck does Becky’s dad do?” said Sandy in wonder.

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you,” said Matt as Sandy’s eyes bugged out. “Nah, not really, just pulling your leg; but without the proper security clearance, I’m really not suppose to say.”

“As long as this is not a lesbian to straight girl factory, I don’t need to know,” said Sandy, who figured she could get Becky to tell her one day—if Becky and her were still close friends, that is.

“No, no, as I told you, we need your help, it’s not our job to change your sexual preference,” said Matt as he led Sandy into a dark room that had a large movie screen on the far side. “Sit here with me and watch what we are about to show you; see what you think.”

“What no popcorn?” asked Sandy, trying to lighten the atmosphere; everything had turned so bizarre since she had arrived back at school, and her being here with a professional security agent just made it seem more bizarre.

“Sorry, but this isn’t a movie theater,” said Matt. “Charlie, roll G-37. This is some video one of our agents shot while Becky and the others were at the reservation.”

“You spied on Becky at the reservation?” said Sandy. “She told me she was going to put on a play and teach arts and crafts to native children, nothing people should be spying on.”

“Well, like I said, we have her father’s permission, so it’s not spying,” said Matt. “And initially we agreed with you; that’s why we only sent in a team once a week.

“The first month all we got was film of her making macaroni pictures with kids, but take a look at this. You tell me if this is a play.”

(15 minutes later)

As soon as the lights went back on, Sandy got up, ran to a wastebasket and threw up. Matt got up and offered her a handkerchief and walked Sandy with her now unsteady legs back to her seat.

“You made that up... it can’t be true... it didn’t happen,” said a now extremely pale Sandy inbetween pants.

“Sorry to say, it’s all live and in color,” said Matt solemnly. “We really need your help Sandy. You’re the only, uh, unaffected Pot of Sex left. I hate to say it, but rack it up again Charlie. You need to remember this.”

The film flickered back on and the lights went dark again. Sandy could not believe she had to relive this horror show again:

The cameraman was obviously on top of a hill and with the quality of the film he had to be using a very expensive camera as the picture was crystal clear.

Panning down the hill, a figure had slung over their shoulder a body with only the back of its head and limp arms swinging back and forth clearly visible. The person being carried had dark, curly hair and even from this far away angle Sandy instantly knew that it was Becky.

The camera then panned forward and, right near a line of trees, was a totem pole and two old Indians looking at it.

One had what looked like some kind of animal head on his head and the other had a full Indian headdress on, like the one Sandy had seen in those old littering commercials.

Tied to the totem pole was a tall, blonde woman completely nude—Tara, Sandy recognized. She had leather straps going around her forehead to keep her head up and straps lashed to her arms and legs to keep her upright.

Sandy noticed she was wearing a ring, which she thought was odd; as, with her delicate fingers, Tara rarely wore rings, even to formal occasions.

By her closed eyes and the slackened look on her face, it appeared to Sandy as if Tara was either asleep or had been knocked unconscious.

Whatever, when the man in the animal hide began loosening the straps her body fell head first into the waiting grasp of the man in the headdress. He took Tara’s body and dragged it a few feet to a patch of green grass.

The man in the animal hide then motioned the figure carrying Becky forward and pointed toward the pole.

The figure walked over to the pole and unloaded their cargo, holding Becky by the waist. The man in the headdress came over and began helping the figure, who Sandy could now tell was a woman but no one she could identify, to strip Becky and then start binding Becky’s body to the pole.

The camera then swung back to the man in the animal hide, who was circling some kind of scepter over Tara’s head. His mouth was moving but the camera was too far away to pick up the words.

After a couple of minutes, the man in the animal hide went to the other side of the totem pole, and Sandy could see some kind of jug was sitting there. The man went over and took a nearby cup and poured liquid from the jug into it.

He then went back over to where Tara was still laying motionless. He bent down and spread her legs as wide as he could. Sandy shivered as she watched.

He then reached into his pocket and produced a small thing that looked like some kind of an idol (the woodcarvings Becky and Lara had worn looked like that!, Sandy remembered on this second look) and he bent down and slowly worked it into Tara’s vagina and when he got up only the head of the idol was visible sticking out of Tara’s box.

Tara’s body seemed to twitch a bit and her lips moved like she was letting out a soft moan, but it was hard to tell.

The man in the animal hide then bent down onto his knees and even more slowly let the liquid pour from the cup right into Tara’s slit, like he was pouring some coffee down a drain.

As soon as he was finished, Tara’s body reacted to the gross violation of her sex, even though she still appeared asleep. Her body began shuddering, her large breasts slapping back and forth, and her hips began grinding itself into the dirt.

Sandy wasn’t sure if it was trying to work the idol deeper inside her vagina or trying to reject it. Whatever, Tara’s luscious body was fully turned on by something.

Suddenly, Tara’s eyes opened and her head and chest bolted forward. This time, Sandy could here her scream clearly:

“S-e-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x!!!!!!!!!!!”

And as soon as Tara was done with that lung-filled cry, her eyes closed again and she flopped back down. Her body now showing no sign of life, save for an occasional twitch near her waist.

The man in the animal hide motioned for the unidentified women to come over and pointed to Tara’s prone body. She nodded her head and bent down and gathered Tara in her arms and picked her off the ground.

She put her down a few yards away, and began to put tiny shards of blue cloth on her that Sandy recognized as Tara’s favorite string bikini (“must have gotten her when she was sunning herself,” thought Sandy).

A quick shot back to the totem pole showed the two men looking at Becky, now completely nude except for a ring on her right hand. The man in the animal hide then waved the other man away and began what looked like a dance around the pole, with Becky helplessly sleeping while strapped to it.

It was just a fleeting shot as the camera had in a flash swung to the bottom of the hill and showed a picture of the woman carrying the still limp body of Tara up the hill, back where the camera was.

The film then ended suddenly, the cameraman obviously beating a hasty retreat so the woman would not see him.

If Matt thought having Sandy see the film a second time would calm her down, he was dead wrong. She was now completely hysterical and her long, muscled frame was heaving from sobs as she cried even worse now than when he had found her in the beach chair.

It took several handkerchiefs and a couple of Valiums before Sandy settled down.

Matt took her out of the screening room; too many bad memories, he figured, for her now, and led her into his office. It was brightly colored and had pictures of his pretty, smiling wife and kids doing wholesome family things on the wall.

Matt leaned back in his chair and began kneading his fingers together; for a former alter boy, this was going to be some strong stuff he was going to have to discuss with this very attractive young woman.

He did give himself a second to glance at Sandy’s figure. If I was a girl into girls I’d do her in a second, he thought, before quickly breaking out of his reverie and getting down to business.

“Can you talk Sandy, or do you need more sedatives?” asked Matt.

Sandy wanted to curl up into a ball and never see or hear anyone again, but her sports training kicked in. She was an athlete, a winner, someone who had overcome any physical and mental challenges that stood in her way her entire life.

She took keeping her sanity at the moment as a challenge, a goal to shoot for. With her old competitive juices flowing, Sandy was able to straighten herself up, at least enough to talk, although her legs felt like jelly.

“Yes, I can talk coherently, now,” said Sandy. “What... What was that I just saw and what were they doing to my friends?”

“That’s what we were wondering when we first saw the footage,” said Matt. “At first we thought it might be some kinky sex game they were playing.

“Let’s face it, you guys do get into some wild stuff, and the initial analysis seemed to be correct as our reports indicated Miss Butler and Becky acted normally in their duties after the incident.

“Of course, we didn’t delve too much into their personal life. What was the point, we figured. We knew what team they played for and, frankly, our agents don’t exactly blend in with the natives there. So, all our observations had to be from long distance, limiting our access.

“We discovered things were not exactly normal pretty much like you just did. When the semester began we noticed Becky and her friends all of a sudden dating men and showing no interest in women.”

“The... thing, stuck in Tara’s pussy. I saw it around the neck of Becky and Lara,” said Sandy haltingly, but she gathered herself quickly. “Is that what turned them straight?”

“Not exactly but it is an important symbol,” said Matt. “When we noticed the, uh, dramatic change in Becky’s behavior, we sent the tape you just saw, greatly enhanced, to a professor of Indian History at Oklahoma Tech and frankly, what he reported bowled us over. I mean, this is the 21st century, after all.”

“Please, please tell me,” said Sandy. “These girls are more like sisters to me than friends.”

“Apparently, the image on the necklace and what you saw on the tape was that of Hothar, a Fertility God to their tribe, and what you witnessed was at least part of an ancient ceremony where these women had their bodies sacrificed to Hothar,” said Matt with a “I know it sounds nuts but it’s true” look on his face.

“But why would someone want to do that? I mean, yeah, we like to have a lot of fun, but really, these are very nice good-hearted girls,” said Sandy plaintively.

“I know, I’ve watched you and your friends at Christmas feed the homeless,” said Matt. “But apparently someone does not want you having fun with other girls. Think about it; if these girls now want to be fertile, what’s the most obvious thing they should do?”

“Well, like guys obviously, it helps,” said Sandy. “Oh-h-h-h, I get it. To make these girls straight, those two Indian guys had them sacrificed to a fertility god who, wanting them to bear children, would switch them from lesbians to heterosexuals.”

“Exactly,” said Matt. “They wear the image of Hothar as a sign that they need to be fertile, and thus like guys.”

“So, pardon for me for saying, but this sounds so easy to solve,” said Sandy. “I can just go up to them and yank off the necklace and, voilà, my Pots of Sex are back and ready to lick.”

“We’re not stupid, Sandy; we thought if we could take away the necklace that would be it, too,” said Matt. “We had agents outside the gym shower after Becky’s aerobics class, looking inside her bedroom waiting for her to take it off before she went to sleep but she never, ever, took it off her neck.

“We went back to the professor and he did some more investigating and found out some dire things would occur if we just ripped off the necklace.”

“Like what?” inquired Sandy.

“Like they would instantly drop dead,” said Matt. “Apparently, if the sacrificial ceremony is done properly, your friends mind, body and soul are linked with the spirit of Hothar.

“If an outside force suddenly cut this link, they would cease to exist. That’s why, as part of the spell they are under, they know subconsciously they can never take the necklace off.”

“Well, I guess Becky’s dad must be happy at least,” said Sandy with a note of irony. “The way Becky is going at it, she’ll be spitting out heirs right and left soon enough.”

“Funny you should say that,” said Matt. “When we gave him our initial report he was inclined to keep things as is. Apparently, whoever did this to them had no other agenda but to stop them from being lesbians, they simply used Hothar as a means to turn them straight, otherwise they are pretty much the same girls you knew.

“But like I told you, Becky is the sole heir to this corporation and the higher ups overruled her father. Even though the power is not being used right now, Becky is under the control of an outside authority and we cannot have the future owner of Robinson, Inc. in that situation. Too much of a security risk.”

“What do you mean ‘higher ups?’” asked Sandy, this was all so confusing. “I thought you said Mr. Robinson owned the company.”

“Indeed he does, owns 100 percent of it,” said Matt who then looked around furtively. “But he does answer to people. And I would have to kill you if you knew their names, so lets drop it.”

“OK, fine, it’s dropped,” said Sandy now a bit frightened. “So as I understand it, as a patriotic American, it’s apparently our duty to remake Becky into a dyke. How do I fit into this? You obviously did not bring me here just to freak me out watching a film of my best friends getting sacrificed.”

“When we asked the professor for a way to reverse the spell he said there was no solution,” said Matt. “We then told him to investigate further as having the four girls remain this way was not an option. He drove 180 miles to see a 102-year-old medicine man in the Black Hills who gave him the answer.

“Apparently, the only way to break the spell they are under is to have a trusted member of their tribe, in a moment of passion with them, crush the symbol of Hothar and only then will their true spirit will be freed.”

“One problem there, Matt my boy,” said Sandy. “None of my friends are Indians. Jeez, I think Tara’s mom’s not even an American; I think she’s from Sweden. None of them belong to any tribe.”

“You are wrong Sandy, we checked it out,” said Matt. “A tribe is a gathering of individuals who think of themselves as one people, who consider all among them as blood whether they are or not. As you said, you consider Becky, Tara, Joanie and Lara to be more like sisters to you than friends, and in the depths of their stolen souls you know they feel the same way.

“You are a member of the Pots of Sex tribe Sandy. It is time to liberate your tribeswomen.”

“By having sex with them,” said Sandy.

“Yes,” said Matt.

“Even though they have been converted to be straight, by a god no less,” said Sandy.

“Yes, and to make things more fun, they probably have all been implanted with the thought that having sex with another women is the most disgusting thing possible and under no circumstances would they do it again,” said Matt.

“It’s a challenge; I like those, I’m up for it,” said Sandy. “Hey, what did you mean the girls staying this way was ‘not an option?’”

“Just what I said; the higher ups have ruled that the we cannot have the minds of the heir of Robinson, Inc. and her closest friends under the control of outsiders,” said Matt. “Too risky. Them continuing to be like this is not an option.”

“So, if I don’t manage to get these super-straight girls to have sex with me, and if I don’t get a chance to smash what they think is the thing keeping them alive, what happens then,” asked Sandy with wide eyes.

“I’d rather not think of Plan B,” he said. “Good luck.”