The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Carol did not like frat parties. In the first place, she was a lesbian and heterosexual mating rituals tended to bore and irritate her. In the second, she’d always been very clear that she was at school to study, not to get drunk and pass out in a puddle of someone else’s beer. In the third place, her personal space was hers, and she didn’t want hundreds of random people on various controlled substances invading it. In the fourth place, she’d mentioned she was a lesbian, right?

Or she had thought she was a lesbian? She had been sure. Since she was 10 or so.

But as she stood outside the lit-up house and saw the press of bodies through the windows, she was forced to admit to herself, forthrightly and honestly, that she was thinking a lot about how many cocks there were inside. And about whether or not those cocks might get hard when the guys they were attached to saw her tight red dress. With cleavage. Courtesy of a push-up bra that Jun had recommended.

Jun who had said she’d meet her inside. Jun who was quite possibly already getting fucked in there.

By cocks.

Carol closed her eyes. What was she doing? She had lied to Donna; told her she had papers to grade late. She knew it was wrong. She should call her right now and tell her the truth.

Which was what?

The truth which was that Carol was a bisexual treat and she’d gone out to see if she could get some cocks really hard so that they could fuck Jun in her gorgeous, tight little cunny.

Donna would be horrified. Carol couldn’t bear to hurt her. But she had to. She had to be true to herself. And her self was so turned on by the thought of watching Jun get gang-banged that she had just about soaked through her panties.

Or would have soaked through her panties if she were wearing any. Jun had told her it would be hotter not to. And Carol wanted Jun’s cunt to be slick and hot so anyone could just…

“Hey, Professor Swinton?! Ish…whadderyou doing here?”

She opened her eyes. A gangly student she vaguely remembered from one of her classes—probably Psych 101?—was weaving slightly back and forth in front of her. He looked delighted and more than a little confused.

“Wow,” he said. “Are you, like, chaperoning? You look, I mean…” he paused. His forehead furrowed. “That,” he concluded, “Is a great dress.” It couldn’t be more obvious that he was looking at her tits.

Humiliatingly, excitingly, she felt her nipples spring fully to attention. “Thank you,” she said. She sounded breathy. She hated that she sounded breathy. She hated flirting. She wanted to flirt. “Walk me in?”

“Yeah! I mean, wow—sure!” She swayed on her ridiculous heels, walking beside him. She didn’t even know his name, she realized. She wondered if he had a nice, thick cock. She wondered if she could get him to fuck Jun while she watched. She had a vivid image of him, cap still on his head, thrusting into Jun’s ass. She was licking his balls to make him harder. She was telling him she’d give him an A if he fucked Jun like she needed to be fucked. She betrayed everything she ever thought she cared about and it was worth it when he came for her.

The worst part was she knew she’d do it, if he let her. That was the best part too. And imagining Jun’s giant naked tits shaking in orgasm.

She’d been thinking about those tits a lot. Since she’d seen Professor Lord fucking Jun so magnificently. And since Jun had come to her office and shoved her tongue in her mouth. And her hand in her cunt. She hadn’t wanted to betray Donna. She had tried to pull away. But Jun’s fingers seemed to have some sort of magic power over her clit, over her slit. She’d bucked against them helplessly.

Hadn’t she? She remembered in her head getting away, getting across the room and then—something about Professor Lord?

No. She’d bucked against her hand. She’d babbled. She’d told her how watching Professor Lord fuck her was the hottest thing she’d ever seen in her life.

And Jun had whispered in her ear. She’s said she could watch Professor Lord fuck her anytime.

She’d told her she fucked lots of guys and that Carol could help.

“You’re my beta bitch fucktoy,” she said. “You’re going to crawl on your knees to get cocks nice and hard for me.”

Carol had just said, “yes.” Over and over, “yes.” When Jun had finger-fucked her. When she told her she’d let her watch her fuck Professor Lord. When she told her to dress sexy and get a push up bra and not wear panties and come out to the frat party and more.

She’s said “yes” to all of it. She’d used to be able to say “no.” She’d used to feel it was important to say “no.” “No” was how you knew who you were. “No” was what defined you. What you wouldn’t’ do. Who you wouldn’t hurt. What you knew was wrong, which drew the boundaries around what you knew was right. “No” was how you kept all the messed up things in the world from opening you up and fucking you.

Now, though, she was only “yes.” She didn’t know what she wouldn’t do. She didn’t know who she wouldn’t betray. There was only Jun’s tongue in her ear, Jun’s tongue between her lips, Jun’s tongue on her slit, entering her and saying “yes.”

She was terrified. She hated herself. She didn’t know who her self was. But it was her, and she had to embrace it. She had to fuck it. Yes.

She lost the gangly kid almost instantly in the press of bodies. She was relieved and also sad because she’d wanted to see his cock fucking Jun and then disgusted and the disgust turned her on.

Or she might have been turned on because so many people were looking at her tits.

The music was loud and unbearable funkless rock bellowing of some sort. People were dressed in a mix of party sexy and casual. She had to be one of the oldest people there, though the lights were dim and she wasn’t sure anyone noticed.

They noticed the dress, though. And the push up bra. And the walk the heels gave her. Lots of young guys were checking her out. She noticed some girls too. She felt like meat on display. She felt like a bisexual treat. She wanted to hide in shame and masturbate furiously. She made eye contact a lot. Below she could feel herself leaking.

The gangly kid was back with a cup of some punch-like substance. He handed it to her, leaning over to say something in her ear. She thought she caught the word “chaperone” again; he smelled of alcohol and weed. He was looking at her tits. The music was really loud. She was pressed against some ratty couch. He was half-pressed against her.

She looked away to try to clear her head and there was a couple on the couch making out with stoned and languid enthusiasm. The girl was straddling the guy, her hips undulating in her jeans as her mouth worked against his. The guy’s hand moved on her ass. Carol found herself twisting her neck to see if she could see his cock. It had to be hard. She wanted to see the cock.

Gangly kid was at her ear again, saying something about her chaperoning again? He had one joke, or one thought, she guessed. She turned back to him with frustration. She wanted to watch the fucking. “I’m not chaperoning,” she said. “I’m a fucktoy.”

He looked blankly, irritatingly confused. He probably couldn’t hear her. But she could show him. That really seemed like the best approach. She wasn’t used to hiding who she was or keeping her opinions to herself. It was better to be forthright and honest. She looked up at him and smiled as she cupped his crotch in her hand. She felt his balls through his jeans. The music was loud, but she was pretty sure she heard him make an exclamation. She stroked with her other hand.

He had gotten very hard. She stroked faster, harder. He jerked against her hand as he came. She sighed involuntarily, a little pre-orgasmic shudder dampening her cunt and making her nipples ache. She felt deeply satisfied, like she used to feel when she’d finished a research article, or when she’d done the right thing for a student despite some rule that said she shouldn’t.

This was just like that. She wasn’t supposed to jerk off students because of rules. But the gangly kid had obviously had a cock that wanted to fuck her, wanted to cum. And she had fucked him.

He was flushed and stammering in embarrassment, like he’d done something wrong. It was kind of cute, in a sad sort of way. Of course she’d get him hard again and he could fuck her, maybe over the couch.

There was a lull in the music between songs. “See, I’m not here to chaperone,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Suddenly Jun was by her side. She was wearing a strappy top that looked ready to disintegrate under the tide of her massive tits and black leather-look pants so tight it was obvious she wasn’t wearing panties either. Jun leaned in as the music started up again.

“That looked yummy, baby,” she said. She bit Carol’s ear lobe up above. Below, her finger stroked shamelessly down Carol’s slit.

The gangly kid had staggered away to clean up, somewhat to Carol’s disappointment; she’d been thinking about cleaning him up with her mouth, getting him hard again. Jun was insistent though. She pulled her through the crowd and upstairs. Watching Jun’s ass flex in those pants as she walked up the steps was a religious experience.

Hot as it was to watch Jun move, though, Carol was sickeningly but inevitably losing that sense of perfect rightness she’d felt when she’d jerked off her student whose name she couldn’t even remember. What was she doing? What was she thinking? If he told anyone, she could lose her job. She could lose her wife. And why wouldn’t he tell? She’d risked everything she cared about for the chance to sexually molest some random guy she wasn’t even attracted to.

Yes, he’d looked at her tits. Yes he was flirting with her. But did that mean she needed to make him cum? That she needed to be his bisexual treat and masturbation aid?

Yes, something deep inside her answered. You turned him on. So you had to help him cum.

“Jun,” she said, as the girl led her into a small bedroom off the hall, “I think there’s something wrong. I don’t know why I’m here. I…oh.” She stopped talking and just about stopped thinking as Jun pushed her against the closed door. Her lips were fierce and hungry; her knee ground up into Carol’s panty-less crotch. Carol’s hands moved to Jun’s huge nipples of their own volition, it seemed like. She felt them hot and hard under her hands. Her cunny thrust and thrust again; she was on the edge. “Yes,” she said against Jun’s mouth.

The girl pulled back and gave an empty-headed giggle that was about the sexiest thing Carol had ever heard. “That was yummy too,” Jun said. “We’re going to have a lot of fun!”

Carol nodded. She tried to say something but all that came out was a whimper, needy and debased. Her hands fumbled as she tried to pull up Jun’s top, to get at those tits.

Jun stopped her, cupping her tits through the fabric, still giggling. “Oh, you’re greedy! Not yet, you hungry little bitch. Fucking you would be fun, but with allll these options here, I’m in the mood for an orgy. What do you think of that? A whole bunch of cocks and cunts to fuck me. I deserve that, right?”

Carol was having trouble thinking of anything. She thought of the gangly kid’s cock in her hand. She thought of him fucking Jun’s giant tits.

“So,” Jun said, “I think I can find somebody with a nice hard dick or two. I want you to go out there and seduce some nice hot little chit and bring her back here to be fucked, okay? Do that for me and you can join in the fun.” She stepped forward again, pinning Carol against the door. Her mouth licked Carol’s collarbone. Her hand brushed towards her crotch.

“Uh…oh god,” Carol said. “I can’t…you want me to bring a student up here and then…I can’t. I can’t get some girl and tell her and then…that would be assault. Jun, you don’t…”

“Oh, Professor Lord said you were a balky little bitch, Jun said in her ear. Her fingers dove in relentlessly. “Now listen. You are my fucktoy, you little slut. You just jerked some guy off because you’re so horny and easy to please. You know you have no self-control. No morals. You are my fucktoy and your job is to help me cum. And right now I want to watch some little innocent co-ed get gang-banged till she screams. I want you to get her cunny all nice and slick with your tongue and then guide cock into her hole.” She flicked Carols’ clit to emphasize each word. “Do. You. Understand?”

Carol panted. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Her crotch was wet with something else. She thought of what Donna would say to see her now. She wondered how Donna would look, split open by Professor Lord’s giant cock.

She was disgusting. Was she disgusting because she was Jun’s fucktoy? Or because she wasn’t a good enough fucktoy for Jun? She remembered that feeling of perfect bliss as the gangly kid’s cock hardened. As she served her purpose.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”