The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Professor Carol Swinton wasn’t exactly sure what she thought she’d find. She hadn’t really made a conscious choice to open the door. She’d finally finished the grading for her Women’s Psych midterms and had been looking forward to getting back home to a meal, a bath, and some quality time with her wife.

She’d finished later than she’d thought and was a bit startled by the emptiness. The usual sounds of a working building—distant voices, the shuffle of movement, a door closing—were suddenly very audible simply because they weren’t there. It was a little eerie, and she shook herself as she walked briskly towards the stairway, the parking lot, the car, and home. In her head, she was already down, out, in, gone.

She heard something. Or maybe nothing. A half cry, a moan. It could have been the wind really. She didn’t know or care what it was. But then somehow she was walking unerringly towards Steve Fuller’s office. More sounds she didn’t really try to identify. In retrospect, she supposed she must have thought someone was in trouble. The sounds could have meant that. Or maybe she was just curious. In any case, she tried the handle and it turned.

The slapping and moaning were unmistakable now, even for someone whose relationship with heterosexual intercourse was almost entirely theoretical. The scene before her was equally clichéd. Steve’s pants were around his knees; he was turned slightly away from her so she could, unfortunately, see his pale, thin, and thrusting buttocks.

The girl braced against his desk was completely and even magnificently nude, her tight, trim body pushing back against Steve’s member with intent as she vocalized with enthusiasm. Her DD breasts, swinging as Steve worked, were improbably huge on her small frame—so much so they had to be fake.

“Fuck your little bitch slut, fuck me for that grade, fuck your bitch!” the girl said. The encouragement, or her final twist of her hips, put Steve over the edge. He grunted and obviously ejaculated inside her. She either came at the same time or was a very good actor. The two of them ended up draped over the desk, Steve gasping, eyes closed, his really unfortunate goatee perhaps even more unfortunate post-coitus. The girl was less winded; her hand, Carol couldn’t help noticing, had slipped down and was working furiously between her legs.

As she worked, her back arched and her head lifted. She saw Carol.

It was Jun, Carol realized. Jun was an excellent student Carol had had a couple years ago in Psych 101. The girl’s breasts then had been much, much smaller.

Jun met Carol’s eyes, smiled and licked her lips, her hand still going. Her body jerked again in orgasm.

Steve though still hadn’t seen her. Carol shut the door quietly as she stepped back into the hall.

She got home, had the meal—take-out Middle Eastern—alone. She’d forgotten Donna was working a rare night shift at the ER to sub for a friend who was out. She took a bath too. She thought about masturbating to relax, but the image of Jun looking at her and cumming was a little too fresh, and a little too—well, appealing and unappealing both, she supposed. She definitely could have lived her whole life happily without ever thinking about, must less seeing, scrawny, droningly tedious Steve’s naked ass.

More disturbing was the question of what she was going to do. Or, really, of how she was going to do it. She had to report a teacher having sex with a student in his class—quite possibly in exchange for a better grade, from what Jun had said in the throes of. If that wasn’t just pillow-talk. Desk-talk. Whatever.

Carol sighed. Being somewhat obsessively conscientious wasn’t always ideal. Donna teased her about it sometimes. “You don’t have to right every wrong immediately” she said in exasperation after Carol told her how she’d confronted one of her colleagues again about the need for more women, and more women of color, in the major.

Carol couldn’t really help it, though. Her colleagues said wrong, bigoted things and she had to correct them so they would know they were wrong and right could prevail. So it had always been, so it would ever be.

Which led inevitably back to the question of the hour: not “What was she going to do?” but “Who was she going to tell?” Her immediate superior, technically, was George Lord, the department head—and a Grade A creep. She’d have been a lot less surprised to find him with a student than innocuous, boring Steve. There was no way he’d be helpful, presuming she could even get his head out of his research long enough for him to listen to her.

Next up was the Dean of the Sciences, Maxine Stefanik. Maxine was not an especially sympathetic ear either, in truth; she was a marine biologist whose aptitude for emotional intimacy was about equal to the algae she studied. Still, she was generally conscientious about her administrative duties. And she was a woman. That should maybe count for something, Carol figured. Though she also knew it often didn’t.

She should probably write the email tonight, she knew. But she was tired and out of sorts and mostly wanted to go to bed. Maybe she could speak to Maxine in person tomorrow, first.

As she drifted off to sleep, or tried to, she saw Jun’s enormous breasts again, swinging, the nipples hard, huge, and distended. Carol had a somewhat embarrassing thing for large breasts. As an enlightened woman and a lesbian, she supposed she should celebrate all kinds of bodies, appreciate the whole person not just the culturally fetishized bits, etc. etc. But sometimes you like what you like. Donna’s were big, but not…well.

She wondered why Jun had gotten implants. And why Jun was sleeping with a professor for grades? Or for any reason. The girl she remembered was smart and focused and very consciously not presenting as a sexual being. She remembered Jun’s no nonsense approach to dissecting the rats. She remembered Jun’s smile from the office when she met her eyes.

Carol turned over. Enough, she thought, and for once she listened to herself and fell asleep.

She dreamt that Professor Lord was fucking Jun’s face. His penis was very large. Jun was wearing a thong and a rat mask, which appeared and disappeared like Lord’s penis.

“That’s okay, Jun,” he said. “We’ll fix that in a minute. With the experiment.”

“I need to tell Donna how turned on I am,” said Carol. “It’s the right thing.”

Jun was wearing Lord’s glasses. They had no pupils. She nodded and Carol nodded with her. It felt sensual.

“You’d better get to class,” Lord said soothingly. He offered her a rat mask. She scuttled through the hallways. There were sounds. She had to find the sounds.

With mounting anxiety she opened the door. Something was in there, sweaty and huge and coming towards her.

She startled awake with a gasp. Donna muttered something beside her. Carol felt her heartrate slow down as she looked at her wife curled next to her. Donna’s shoulder length blonde hair was touseled; the cover was half-off and Carol could see the curve of her hip where it met her waist, a snug bend by Donna’s comfortable belly. She suppressed an urge to lick right there, kiss down to Donna’s lips and folds, dusted with blonde hair. Maybe wake her sweetie up with a nice strong cum.

She had a strong, very…affecting flashback of Jun’s back arching as she came.

Her hand was between her own legs, she realized. Her finger teased her clit and slid inside, almost like it had a fuck-mind of its own. She thrust once or twice. She was really wet.

She glanced at the clock. It was a couple minutes to 8. The alarm was going to go off. She had a 9:00 class, and some prepwork to do. She informed her finger of these facts with an effort at sternness. The finger slid out reluctantly. It thrummed her clit with a last defiant outburst.

Tonight, Donna should be home, and Carol should be home. We’ll take care of my wayward cunt then, Carol thought. It had been more than a week since they’d done it; with work and conflicting schedules it could be hard to make the time. But obviously she needed to.

In the shower Carol did not touch herself and did not think about Jun. She didn’t.

Not thinking about Jun was more difficult when Carol got to her office after class, mainly because Jun was waiting outside her door. The student was leaning against the wall, one knee up, showcasing clunky black high heels. She was wearing a tartan pattern red and black skirt that was almost too short to even qualify as a mini, and a novelty white t-shirt that actually had the Parental Advisory logo on it. It was quite tight, in a way that confirmed that Jun’s assets were, if anything, even more enormous than Carol had remembered.

Jun was adjusting her skirt—or at least Carol hoped that’s what she was doing—but she looked up when she heard Carol walking towards the door. “Hi, Professor Swinton!” she chirped (Carol was sure Jun had not chirped when she had her in class.) “Can we talk for a minute?”

Carol cleared her throat, which felt dry for some reason. “Sure, Jun,” she said. “Hold on and let me get the door unlocked.” She juggled her purse and her class notes. When she got into the office and reached for the light switch, she realized that Jun was a good bit closer behind her than she’d realized. The girls’ hand almost grazed her side.

Carol retreated hurriedly behind her desk. Jun smiled much like she had smiled when… Anyway. Then the girl sat down and crossed her legs in a way that made the skirt coverage even more precarious.

There was a moment of silence. Then Carol said, “Well, how can I help you, Jun?” at the same time as Jun said, “So, you caught me and Professor Fuller fucking, huh?”

Carol stopped. “Uh,” she said.

Jun giggled. “Oh, you’re embarrassed! Don’t be; Professor Fuller didn’t see and I thought it was kind of hot getting caught. I would have gone again but Professor Fuller was kind of wiped, you know? He’s enthusiastic but the stamina isn’t really…”

Carol managed to make a strangled noise. “Look, Jun, the details aren’t really my business. I do not want the details to be my business. No. details.” She was trying to be calm about it, but she knew she was flushed.

“Oh, awesome!” Jun said, standing up abruptly in a way that made her breasts do things that strongly, impossibly, suggested she was not wearing a bra. “Then you’re not going to report us or anything? I was a little worried, because Professor Lor…I mean, I was a little worried.”

Had she been about to say something about Professor Lord? Was she sleeping with him too? Carol felt a little seasick. What was going on? Also how could Jun’s breasts possibly be so…

She shut her eyes. She took a breath, looking down, since that seemed to make things easier. “No,” she said. “I’m afraid…I understand that you don’t want to be embarrassed and don’t want any trouble. But professors can’t… I have to report Steve….Professor Fuller. I can try to keep your name out of it, though I’m not sure what will happen with the investigation. Obviously nothing will be made public.

She looked up, with what she hoped was a reassuring expression. Jun had come around the desk. She was leaning over, lips parted. Her nipples were outlined against the shirt, clearly very large and very erect. “That’s really not okay,” she said. “Can’t I get you to change your mind?”

“What?” Carol said, and Jun was kissing her.

Carol tried to get away. Or she thought she tried to get away. Her brain seemed to be malfunctioning; she could almost hear the sparks sputtering and cascading behind her eyes. Jun’s lips were soft, and her tongue darted between Carol’s lips with a languid expertise. Carol could feel those huge, soft breasts pressed against her own much smaller chest. Jun’s hand was sliding down towards her slacks, teasing at her zipper. Her cunt, needy all day, was a clamor of want. She was sure Jun could feel her heat against her palm as she tried…

Carol somehow managed to disentangle herself and put the desk between them. She wiped her mouth with one hand, and pulled up her zipper with the other. “No,” she said. “This is…Jun you can’t just…what happened to you? You didn’t used to be—this is—you don’t need to do this for grades. You’re a smart girl. You’re…”

She backed towards the door as Jun came towards her around the desk, hips swaying. She was hefting one huge breast beneath her shirt. Her expression was a weird amalgamation of wistful regret and rampant leer.

“Well crap. Professor Lord said you’d be tough,” she said. “But the way you looked at me—you totally want me. And I want you. Why does it have to be so hard? I can make you feel good, and then you just don’t tell anyone I made you feel soooo good. What’s wrong with that?”

Carol was at the door. She opened it and stepped backwards into the hall. Jun had stopped, still playing with her nipple.

“George Lord?” Carol said. “What’s he got to do with this?”

“Oh, I’ve got everything to do with this, Carol,” Lord said. Carol tried to scream, but he’d put something over her mouth. Jun was smiling at her again as blackness came.