The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“M-my puppies?” Stammered Abby, both stunned and somewhat ashamedly titlated at the thought of this nurturing older woman calling her boobs “puppies.” Her face turned a bright red and she felt herself shiver as the word tickled her lips invitingly on the way out of her mouth. Puppies. The word felt so playful and innocent and bouncy and cute, just saying it in the context made her thighs tingle. Ms. Gilms just giggled sweetly and opened a closet door in the wall of her room, revealing a walk in closet full of…extremely, Extremely skimpy outfits. Well, technically only full of those on one side. As Abby moved closer the other side crept into her view, revealing that it was full of…was full of…

Gulp.

Lingerie and bikinis and bright flashy bras.

“Why do…you have this?” Asked Abby, who felt shocked but…far from appalled. She had always held a certain fondness in her heart for a certain kind of look, even if she lacked the confidence to admit it out loud, and this playful selection catered to it almost panderingly. She stumbled inside in spite of herself, her mouth hanging open at the selection available. A black bikini with a fire motif jumped out to her, then got kicked out of her brain by the much cuter hot pink one right next to it with heart shaped holes for one’s nipples. She tore her eyes away only to find them transfixed again, this time on another bikini, this one blue and covered in little glittery scales (or beads, maybe?).

“What an odd question, dear,” Ms. Gilms said to Abby sounding genuinely confused. “Of course the guidance councilor has a walk-in closet full of cute skimpy uniforms and bikinis and bras and panties. We can’t have our sweet babies sweating themselves unconscious in the summer, right?” No trace of jest or sarcasm existed in her voice or mannerisms. It seemed that Ms. Gilms fully believed that her students needed to wear cute skimpy outfits at school, and she had a duty as guidance counselor to provide them. “Poor dear, do you want me to take your temperature? Do you need milk?”

“You mean wa—” Abby started, before catching herself. Thinking of Ms. Gilms as a Counselor Mommy- that she could deal with. It…comforted her, actually, in a weird way she didn’t feel accustomed to. But she felt like, if she said “you mean water?” in response, then Ms. Gilms would pop a nipple in her mouth and start cradling her and telling her everything was gonna be- “you mean water, right?”

Ms. Gilms did not hesitate. She ripped open her shirt, destroying her bra, and delicately grabbed Abby and guided her mouth onto a nipple. “No Baby,” she purred in a low, sultry, maternally giving tone as her hands lovingly stroked Abby’s hair. Abby latched on automatically and started hungrily drinking from her guidance councelor’s milk fountain. “I meant milk. Babies need milk. There there, little one, lap up milky from your Mommy. Yes, thaaat’s it,” she purred as Abby worked the nub in her mouth using her tongue, pulling one heavy drawl of the liquid after another. Ms. Gilms had breasts that were an older, saggier, less shapely affair than those Beauticia had smothered her with, but it lent them a kind of homely, welcoming, safe vibe that made sucking milk out of them sweet and reassuring.

“Mmmmnnnff,” Abby moaned, suddenly realizing how full she felt and pulling away. She met no resistance, but Ms. Gilms did catch and help rebalance her after she stumbled and almost fell backwards. “Aaahhh, I…think I only needed a little. I had some already, on the way here, haha.” She smiled and blushed a little bit, trying not to imagine what kind of mommying awaited her from her (comparatively relative to Ms. Gilms) younger, tighter-bodied, firmer-chested teachers.

“Wonderful,” Ms. Gilms said with a grin. “It always makes me so happy to see cuties like you being cared for properly. Ready to talk about changing you out of that stuffy old thing?” She asked, using one hand to gesture vaguely at the conservative state of Abby’s attire. Abby felt yanked back to the present and remembered the reason she’d been sent here (even if it wasn’t the reason she’d actually gone).

“Uh- am, I guess I am?” Abby whimpered in a voice that was obviously distressed. She liked the look, she loved the idea of dressing that way, but…she lacked the bravery to actually do it in public, let alone in class. She kept her eyes on Ms. Gilms, so caught up in her own thoughts that Ms. Gilms’s still-destroyed bra and outwardly hanging breasts failed to distract the young woman from the face above them. That face softened with concern.

“Sweetheart…are you nervous?” Ms. Gilms asked, sounding a bit worried. Abby nodded her head yes, eager to take that lifeline. “That’s perfectly alright sweetie. Just take it easy then, okay? I and the nurse are here for you, feel free to leave class without asking and come see us.” She smiled. “We both love surprise visits from our Baby, after all.” Abby smiled and waved, then turned…and remembered how sticky her thighs were. Not just that either, she still had the panties on that she’d soaked in cum earlier. Not three steps towards the exit, Abby turned.

“I…can I wear something a bit closer to like…this?” Abby asked, waving her arms about her current outfit and pleading with her big puppydog eyes for Ms. Gilms to say yes. “Only a little…only a little bit slutty?” Ms. Gilms crossed her arms and frowned. As the following seconds ticked by, Abby felt something inside her getting all crunched up. Ms. Gilms spent a while pensively lost in thought…and then she spoke.

“I can work with that, Baby.” She fluttered her eyes playfully and it made Abby’s heart flutter in kind. “Come, come. Let’s get you dressed up nice and cute and only slightly skimpy, little slut~”

The words hit Abby in the face like the biggest, lovingest, no-clawsiest swipe from a kitten’s paw ever recorded by human hands.

Abby, for her part, would not have classified what she was wearing as “only slightly” skimpy. Sure, the clothes adorning her body left nothing vital uncovered- if she wore it to the pool she wouldn’t even be able to jump in without taking some of it off- but like…she still felt exposed. She couldn’t wear this to CLASS, could she?

She twirled and watched, in the full-length mirror, as the miniskirt hanging from her hips flared up. At the peak of her twirl the skirt failed for a microsecond to cover more than just over half of her undies. Those undies- a cute hot pink pair of panties made of silk- she found herself feeling quite fond of, sure, but the thought of flashing them accidentally made her blush. Still, though, they were very cute. And it wasn’t as though the dark blue pleated miniskirt she wore did not feel free and flappy and fluttery in all those wonderful ways that wearing thin cloth always did. As for her top, Abby wore a remarkably normal outfit save for one detail. She wore a cute white blouse and a pink bra that matched her panties.

The thing was, though, her blouse was a button-up. It also didn’t have any buttons. This meant that she had no choice but to wear it fully open.

She’d convinced Ms. Gilms not to make her wear high heels- she liked the look of those but couldn’t walk in them very well- and she’d found a pair of knee high socks. She’d wanted stockings initially, but those took so long to put on, and she’d floundered so badly, and Ms. Gilms offered to help, and she’d panicked and asked for these instead. There had probably been thigh highs in there somewhere, or even knee highs cuter and/or thicker than these, but it was too late to change her mind now. These were cute ones at least, plain white and thin but fuzzy in that way that socks tended to be.

Abby sighed. Her boobs looked good in that bra, her long, tight, thin body and wide hips rocked the combination of open blouse and miniskirt wonderfully, and she couldn’t lie to herself and claim not to like the way her skirt, shirt, and boobies swayed all nicely and stuff when she moved. Perhaps her look could be even better with lipsticks and makeup, but…if looks were the problem she could simply avoid mirrors (probably). Still, her panties weren’t soaked in cum anymore, and thanks to some application of paper towels, her thighs weren’t either! She only had to wear this ensemble until the end of the school day, when she could retrieve her old one from the school’s laundry and go home.

She turned again, less skittish this time, and waved Ms. Gilms goodbye on her way out. She made her way to her first class…only to arrive there exactly as the first period ended. She threw herself against the wall as the class left like some kind of cartoon character, animated by a silly embarrassment about showing up late dressed how she was. As soon as the coast seemed clear, Abby darted off to her next class- content to simply skip this one entirely and pretend that the whole thing didn’t actually happen.

Abby still felt exposed when she entered the classroom for her second period. She arrived there last- despite the teachers’ names and room numbers in her memory proving accurate, the school’s actual structure seemed to defy it. As she entered the room two minutes late, she felt every eye in the room drop its previous endeavor to look at her instead. She gulped and laughed a nervous little laugh.

“H-hi,” she said meekly. “I’m here.”

“Welcome, Baby!” Said Bridget, a blonde busty cheerleader that Abby secretly had a huge crush on. Oh, god. Oh god, her too? Abby felt torn: on one hand, the unambiguous purehearted delight to see her that she felt radiating from a girl she felt pretty sure didn’t even know her name, but on the other hand…she wasn’t ready for that! Not right now, dressed like this!

“H-Hi, Mom- Bridget!” She corrected, biting her tongue figuratively and just barely managing not to do it literally. One hand automatically seized hold of her shirt and tried to clamp it shut and hide herself. She felt her heart pounding in her head. She couldn’t go around calling Bridget “Mommy!” What was wrong with her!?

“Is anything wrong?” Asked Ms. Hendin, a woman who Abby remembered being in her early sixties but who her eyes told her had to be forty five tops. That would be the teacher, her mortified mind realized on a slight delay. Ms. Hendin stood turned completely away from the class as she continued writing on the chalkboard. After she finished the equation she turned, and Abby saw that the teacher was wearing a tight jacket that accentuated her big…round…pillowy…

“N-nothing!” Squeaked Abby, darting into an empty seat. She clasped her hands together in front of her and stared down at her desk, ready for this adorable nightmare to end. Why was Ms. Hendin suddenly so hot, anyway?

“Awwww, Baby, what’s wrong?” She heard one Mommy- one CLASSMATE- whimper with obvious distress.

“Poor Baby, can we help you? Is something the matter?”

“I heard that Baby was wearing a stuffy outfit on the bus.”

“Yeah! She had her TITS, COMPLETELY covered!”

“Can you imagine her poor skin after being suffocated like that?”

“Enough!” Growled the teacher, her eyes darting across the room with an unmistakable look of iritation that Abby definitely remembered. When they hit Abby, though, Ms. Hendin’s eyes…softened. “Ohh…” she muttered as she relaxed and limply grinned like some soothing drug was lazily spreading through her body. “Maybe…it isn’t enough. Maybe you should be good girls and pamper her.“

“Pamperrrrrr,” the entire class (except for Abby) moaned with blissed out eyes and lolled out tongues in happy, mildly aroused unison like the word was lovingly massaging their hips and thighs.

Abby squirmed in her chair.

“You look tired, sweetie,” said Ms. Hendin, all of her trademark scorn completely gone. Even the piercing blood red eyes that made students afraid of her seemed almost pink and comfy instead. “Take a nap?”

“I-I will,” Abby stammered out.

“Okay, darling,” cooed Ms. Hensin. “Pick a lap.”

“H-huh?”

“Pick a lap,” Bridget repeated like it was the simplest instruction in the world. “Pick a Mommy whose lap you want to sleep in, sit in it, bury your face in her heaven marshmallow pillows, and nap during class! What else could she mean, silly~?” Bridget smiled. Abby couldn’t form words. Did she just get told to nap in a classmate’s lap? With her face buried in their warm pillowy tits? Surely not DURING class?

“N-no, that can’t be right,” Abby stammered.

“If you’re uncomfortable with it that’s okay,” reassured Ms. Hensin. “But I did mean exactly that. Babies need sleepies. If my sweet little angel is all tired out I don’t want her fighting the natural order to stay focused on scary, stressful numbers, I want her nice and comfy in a soft lap with her blissed out face drooling all over a big ol pair of milkers while she dreams about cuddling a bunch of sheep.”

That statement hit Abby like a ton of bricks.

“B-Bridget please.”

“YES!” Bridget shouted, jumping to her feet and ripping open her blouse to reveal she had no bra on. She licked her lips hungrily and wiggled her hips all seductive-like. “She picked me! She picked me!” She stood on her desk and swung her hips back and forth as she locked eyes with Abby and stripped off her jeans. “My Baby! My Baby! Miiiiine!” She hopped off, sat down, and patted her thighs with a purr. Abby was there in a flash.

And then tits enveloped her head. Soft, spongey tits. She almost couldn’t breathe. It felt wonderful. Sleep came quickly, and with it wonderful cuddly dreams.