The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Through the double-glazed window, Monika could see hail pelting the odd pedestrian. Every now and then a big hailstone would blonk loud enough against the window, setting her in motion. Monika would sit up in surprise, hand scrambling to turn the Ally McBeal rerun off. For a moment she would be posed to open up her notebook and take on the appearance that the books strewn on top of her blanket had been studied all along. That was the excuse that had her here, cosy and warm, and not with her. Out there, with the wind and the howling and the cold.

She felt sorry for Ganymede, but she had not forced her to go out on her own, had she? Ganymede could’ve easily stayed here. Besides, what would be the point of her going; arithmetically, that would be two miserable people instead of one. Monika shook her head, sinking into the sofa. The Wicked Witch of the West theme song was playing, and Monika frowned; she really didn’t like Ling Woo. Or maybe her character had aged poorly. It made her uncomfortable in a way that stuff she used to love now did… It couldn’t be the TV show; that was just silly!

For a moment she glanced at the equations on her notebook. Demographics and statistical theory jumbled together. Even if she turned the TV off, she knew she would not be able to study. She had made a stillborn out of her attention span. Monika sighed, looking out the window. When was Ganymede showing up? She hoped her partner had sought shelter instead of walking in that horrible weather. The brunette shook her head at the thought; Ganymede was stubborn to a fault. And negatively persistent. Lazy about money. And aggressive. Even after four years together, Monika would still be surprised at Ganymede’s ability for anger and verbal violence.

Monika looked at her notebooks and textbook sprawled on the coffee table and around her sitting nest; a convincing front, but she knew it wouldn’t really hold any water. Guilt started crawling its way up her chest. “Right,” The bile repeated Ganymede’s words in the same tone that said more than words ever could, “Of course you put out studying until the last minute. Even after agreeing to come with me a month ago.”

Monika reached to turn the TV off. Brow furrowed; chest tightened. Her hand frozen in place, hovering.

“So what?” Monika said to the empty room.

She had made a decision. Damn Ganymede for trying to coerce her to do things she didn’t enjoy in the first place. When had she ever shown any interest in opera? Even if she had agreed to before, she had probably just said yes to shut Ganymede up. With her mood soured, Monika threw the remote on the coffee table. Plastic clackered on glass, and she leaned back on the sofa. She sighed contently, double chin jiggling.

After a while, thoughts trickled to nothing; the screen flickering images of people she would never meet. She wasn’t even thinking about how she had looked when Ally McBeal was being shown. Which was a good thing. She thought too much about her body, ever time she moved and felt limbs rubbing together that had never rubbed against each other before.

Someone moved outside the window.

A sound at the door.

Keys on the lock.

Eyes wide, Monika started scrambling for the remote. “Shit!”

The lock clicked.

She reached out, but didn’t even get close enough. Not for the last time, se cursed her belly getting in the way of bending forwards.

The door jammed. Blessed be lack of maintenance.

Monika’s notebook slipped from her lap, thudded on the carpet. She could uncross her legs but the thought wasn’t coming. She rocked in place, trying to reach the remote; like a tortoise on its back.

The door opened and the only sound was the rain and hail. Cold air flooded the room in through the hallway, and had Monika not been terrified for the prospect of Ganymede’s rage, she would’ve been angry instead at the cold air coming in.

Silence.

That wasn’t good.

Heels on the floor, rustling of a coat that wasn’t for this weather. A heavy, wet thud as it was discarded. Finally, Monika reached the remote. Click, and Ally McBeal returned to the aether of remembrance. Good thing she had it so low.

Monika leaned back, picking up her notebook. When she looked up, Ganymede was standing by the doorframe, just outside the living room, dripping wet. Small hailstones decorating her black hair like a winter queen’s tiara. Make up running darkly in streaks, like paint on a wet wall.

“You know, I am not even surprised.”

“Oh, darling, you look terrible,” Monika said, pleadingly. She saw the set of Ganymede’s jaw, and knew she had said the wrong thing. She inhaled. Why was that a bad thing? She thought. She just tried to be friendly and caring!

“I saw the television on from outside, Monika,” Ganymede’s voice was as cold as the shivering woman looked.

“I was just taking a break, fuck’s sake,” Monika heard the tone in her voice. Winced. She hadn’t meant it to sound like that.

Ganymede didn’t say anything. One hand opened and closed, and then reached to unzip her dress. “I am taking a shower,” She turned, starting to slide out of her black dress. “You obviously have much studying to do; going to have a late night. Might not see you until tomorrow, then.”

And with that, she walked away so silently Monika struggled to even feel the vibrations through the floorboards.

The brunette suddenly felt like the wet coat on the hallway, discarded and not doing its job. She let her head drop, felt her chin rub uncomfortably against her chest. She glanced again at the wet coat.

“That’s what I am,” Her voice broke. “Oh, dang.” She sniffed, looking up, blinking.

It took her a while for her throat to stop trembling.

Monika sat in silence as the weather outside worsened. She could hear Ganymede in the shower, water running, and the occasional mumbling. Most likely venting out about her. Asking herself whey the two of them were together, as if Monika wasn’t in the room next door.

With heart hammering, Monika reached for her phone. She flicked through the tabs, for one from months ago. She and Ganymede had cooked breakfast together, eaten it on a piece of cloth in the garden. And they had said that they would travel and see the world.

“Efcharistó g-gia ti… vólta,” Ganymede said awkwardly, looking like an apologetic tourist. Which she was.

The taxi driver nodded, “’Tis my job, miss. And may you have a grand holiday. This place is so nice not even locals get to see it!” He laughed, tipped his cap, and soon disappeared down the dirt road under a cloud of brown dust.

Blinking, Ganymede just stared after the car.

“Got you there, did he?” Monika said, huffing, and constantly dabbing at her sweaty forehead.

Ganymede mumbled something and turned to look at the hotel.

The hotel building seemed to have been carved out of the sun-bleached stone of the cliff. A single square tower built high between two wings of the hotel, each reaching towards north and south respectively. All around the structure, balconies circled the hotel; hammocks, deck chairs, and the odd snoozing person could be seen. Impressive in that 3-start countryside style, with an adobe roof that was more at home in Baja California than on a Greek island. At least the tiles were painted blue, and there was even an Orthodox-styled weathervane on top of the main tower.

“Looks better in person,” Monika said genuinely impressed.

A pebbled footpath snaked around a garden of yucca trees and dried-up fountains. An artificial canopy tunnel of olive trees led the way into the hotel lobby, a darkened wide-open space with many columns and steps and chairs. To the right, a battleship styled reception desk; to the left, stairs and chairs. Light poured in from the wooden doors directly across from them; wide open, they gave a view of a crisp blue ocean freckled with sailboats and container ships.

Suddenly, Ganymede felt her shoulders relax. “I am actually surprised that you picked a place that looks nice.”

“If only it weren’t so farting far away,” Monika mumbled, stretching her arms. “Ass is chaffed.”

Ganymede bit her tongue before anything came out. Monika had been persistently annoying the moment they left the house. The silences, the anger boiling under the surface. The fight over coming here but… well, Monika did plan the whole thing. What led her to it was a horrible thing, but perhaps this is what they needed. Time away from everything. Trying to use a new space as a platform for something new.

If only she believed any of that.

“You okay, Gany?” Monika asked, concern on her little round face.

Ganymede yawned to cover up the tension on her face. That nickname bothered her so much now. “Yeah, just a little tired, I guess.”

Monika patted her nicely on the shoulder, and then walked up to the reception desk. She rang a little bell, and soon someone appeared.

Ganymede looked around. Must be too early for guests to be about, as the little reception lobby was empty. A soft saline breeze blew in with promises of better days. Ganymede wandered towards the balcony, shielding her eyes from the sudden brightness.

The hotel was built like steps leading down to a beach of white sand. On the level right below Ganymede, a swimming pool with a restaurant; followed down by what looked like a tennis court; and then the shore itself, which was at the bottom of a cliff cove that, from this angle, Ganymede couldn’t tell how the hell you were supposed to get to other than by boat. Some people were wandering in the sands, lazily strolling near to the waves. On the terrace, an elderly man was swimming laps with the virility of someone thirty years younger. Ganymede shaded her eyes and noted that there was a platter of food being watched young man standing nearby and sweeping the floors; he was wearing flip flops, dark blue shorts and what appeared to be a sleeveless surfer shirt. Perhaps he was the lifeguard on duty. He looked attentive and bored in that way people with jobs depending on watching other people seemed to be wizards at.

“Gany,” Monika said from behind.

Ganymede turned around. She frowned, worried. “What’s wrong?” Monika was wrinkling a piece of paper in her hands. “Please don’t tell me you messed up the reservations.”

“Not that!” Monika said loudly. Pressed her lips, took a breath. “No… we’re booked in. It’s just… Ganymede, please tell me our luggage is outside and we just forgot to wheel it in?”

“But you were dealing with the bags…” Ganymede looked over Monika’s shoulder. She saw her little bag of personals, but not her suitcase. She glanced past Monika and into the lobby…

“Fuck! You left it in the taxi!”

Monika’s ample face turned red. “Me? Why are you blaming me on this?”

“You made a point of carrying the bag ever since we left the house.”

“Yeah, well… I was busy trying to pay the man. You got out first and instead of getting the bags you decided to chat him up in your broken Greek. The guy could speak English all along! What did you see in him, anyway?”

What? Don’t change the subject, Ganymede felt her chest tighten. But, instead, she said: “I was not chatting him up—“

“Yeah, right… You’ve been trying to find ways of not talking to me for the whole trip here.” Monika huffed.

That doesn’t mean I was chatting up a man! Ganymede opened her mouth, but suddenly noticed the receptionist approach them.

Ganymede’s ears rose and fell. The woman stirred thoughts and feelings inside her. Touchy thoughts. “Hi. Sorry. But it is not such big deal, really,” The woman had long black hair, a very Mediterranean nose, and Ganymede noticed she was wearing a bikini under a nearly see-through white shirt with what she assumed was the hotel’s logo on it. And her wide thighs disappeared into a pair of tight red swimming shorts. Ganymede blinked, quickly looking up at the girl’s face.

“What do you mean?” Monika said, hopeful.

The receptionist glanced at Ganymede. Ganymede inhaled quickly.

“Alexandros is one of the drivers that bring guests often here,” She told Monika. “I’ve just called him, but he never answers when driving, so he’ll know about your bags once he gets to the depot. He’ll bring them over in the morning when he does his next drive.”

Monika sighed, which set her body jiggling. “That’s a relief.”

Ganymede crossed her arms. “We’re still going to spend a full day of our four-day stay in too-hot clothes, and not be able to swim.”

Monika opened her mouth, but the receptionist intercepted. “I believe we can help with that.”

The room was cosy, breezy, and smelled of a fresh scent the two women hadn’t smelled in months. When the only people in a house have a lowkey war over whose turn it is to clean, things escalate quickly and mould over.

The bed was big and wide, with red covers that matched the beige walls in hue if not saturation. There was a little table with some fruit, and the wooden door to the balcony was open. This side of the hotel gave a restrictive view of the cliff side and the many plants and walkways that snaked up the stone hill. If you stretched your neck just so, you could see a little of the ocean.

“Not the best view,” Monika said, her voice taking on that oblivious niceness that was desperately trying to ignore the enmity between the two.

Ganymede didn’t trust herself to not say something horrible, so she just dropped her bag on the bed. Then dropped backwards onto it, arms stretched.

“Aaah,” She sighed contently. It was so soft and comfortable. And it didn’t smell of sweat.

For a while, the two partners didn’t say anything. Blessed silence. Without a nagging word or snide comment. But Ganymede knew it wouldn’t last.

She felt her heavy-set girlfriend move about: creaking floorboards and the rustle of thighs rubbing together. A memory flicked past her mind, of someone who had once done something with her life and who didn’t eat all the biscuits in one go.

“Can’t believe they had a bathing suit that fit me,” Monika said suddenly.

“Neither can I,” Ganymede replied without thinking. And more petrol for the fire.

Monika grumbled, but didn’t say anything.

A zipper sound made Ganymede glance towards Monika. She saw Monika’s bare back, and the rolls showing on her sides. Practice had led her not wear her disapproval like makeup, but doing it to someone’s back was cathartic if anything. Monika struggled, and then her ass was bare to the world. Ganymede looked away and lay back on the bed. Damn, she loved Monika for many reasons, but her body was not one of them. And the laziness. And the inability to keep a job. And the frugality about money. She knew that Monika hadn’t had it easy lately, but there really was no excuse to go from her cuddly active self—body positivity at its peak—to a… quite frankly, a slob.

She had tried to be supportive, but at one point you run yourself dry trying to help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.

She closed her eyes, trying to think about meeting someone at the beach. Then she felt guilty.

“How do I look?” Monika’s voice interrupted thoughts that would make for the most awkward return flight.

Slowly, Ganymede sat up on her elbows. Her mouth dropped.

“Woah, I haven’t seen that look in a while!” Monika seemed to glow, all blushing and happy.

The surfer’s swimsuit fit her in a way Ganymede always thought was artificial on those plus-sized women ads; custom made suits and lighting. But here Monika was, all smooth curves in that suit. Massive boobs held up, round and bountiful. Her belly, while not precisely hidden, looked kind of nice wrapped in smooth pink; and the blue sides did create the illusion of a slimmer waist. And that little zipper at the front, next to the words Wildvixen did make Ganymede think of vixen-like activities involving plunging cleavage.

Well, whatever Wildvixen is, they’ve got themselves a lifelong customer now, the raven-haired woman thought, seeing how happy Monika looked. It would make some sort of sense, offer guests a try of a fancy swimsuit and then they might never want to wear anything else.

“You haven’t looked so good in ages,” Ganymede said, in a tone that made Monika grow even redder. A blush! That made Ganymede feel giddy on the inside; she hadn’t managed that, sincerely, in months. She had nearly forgotten how making Monika blush had ever felt.

They stared at one another a while.

“So, going to the beach?” Ganymede said.

Monika nodded, picking up a towel from the closet where she had already put some of the few belongings she had. “No point in wasting the holiday. And there’s a mini bar down there.”

Of course she’ll go for that, Ganymede thought.

“Wanna come with?” Monika said.

Ganymede stared at Monika. Thoughts circled in her mind. The flight, the bag— “Not for a while. I need a nap. Might join you after.”

Monika shrugged. “Your loss.”

She put on her high waisted jean shorts over the swimsuit, turned to pick her towel up but nearly tumbled. Her shorts had slipped down halfway down her thighs. “The hell?” The heavy set woman said.

Ganymede sniggered. “Maybe they stretched?”

Monika stared daggers.

Ganymede put her hands up in defence.

“I’ll wear a towel, then.” The woman stepped out of her shorts and wrapped a towel around her waist.

As she closed the door, she looked over her shoulder at Ganymede.

“Bye,” The raven-haired woman waved.

Monika turned, and left the room.

Ganymede stared at the door for a moment, then over at the neat pile of towels and hotel-sponsored clothes.

She leaned back on the bad, dismissing what she thought she witnessed as a trick of fatigue.

Monika wandered down the limestone brick hallway. With each step, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. And that weight had a name.

“You can be so mean sometimes, Gany,” She sighed.

She got to the lifts, pressed the button.

Footsteps echoed down the opposite way.

Why am I waiting for the lift on the second floor? Monika thought. Before any worry about her knees aching, she was walking down the flight of stairs.

The reception lobby was a little bit livelier now. Two men were walking towards the terrace. They were both wearing snug-fitting swimming shorts that reflected some of the light coming in through the balcony doors. Monika found it cute that they wore matching suits the same colour as hers.

“Oh, your suit fits really well,” Monika heard someone say behind her.

She turned around, and the girl that had helped them in was right behind her. She had discarded her shirt and it did wonders for her. Monika open stared at the girl’s impressive chest, beautifully held inside her sporty bikini top. The word Wildvixen on one breast, the hotel’s logo on the other. In one hand she had a bucket, in the crook of the other a box of water bottles.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks. It is really nice. So hard to find things that fit me, you know,” Monika said.

“I hear you, but for different things,” The girl said. “You going to the pool?” She asked suddenly.

Monika shook her head. “Beach. But don’t know how to get there.”

“Oh, you have to come down to the pool and then you’ll find the steps leading to the beach. Come on, I’ll show you.”

The girl pointed with her pretty lips and Monika followed like a puppy.

Clouds had wandered into the sky, providing some respite from the sun. Monika didn’t mind it; it was still nice and warm. As they climbed down the steps, Monika could see that the hotel had come alive. People were swimming, men and women from all over the world. Two slender women were sunbathing topless on the deck, while a family was crowded at a table under a parasol, eating their breakfast of spinach pastries and yoghurt. She saw the two lads from before in the water, holding each other and looking into each other’s eyes in a way that made Monika a little wistful.

“If you go through that gate over there,” The receptionist said, pointing with her bucket hand at a little metal gate just at the opposite end of the terrace. “You’ll get to the lower level. Walk across to the other end, and you’ll find another gate. Another set of stairs, and then the beach.”

Fuck, I’ll have to climb all of that back up! Monika thought. Instead, she thanked the girl and waved.

The second flight of steps were a little more weathered. Mosaic squares had been added to the concrete to allow for some grip, but she wondered how many people had slipped down these steps. With only one hand rail attached to the cliff rock to her right, she really did wonder how people got up and down on busier days. Or when there was an emergency.

The lower terrace wasn’t as crowded as the pool and restaurant. Three people were at the tennis court, the sound of the ball being hit bouncing off the irregular cliff wall in a jagged echo.

She found the second gate, and then descended a long flight of zigzagging steps. Each step a little easier as she got used to the unevenness and quirks of this particular construction. The sand was so pristine, like the most beautiful shells in the world had been specifically ground to make this place real. The tide was low, the sea calm; off in the distance she could hear the horn of a ship, and the cry of children in the water.

“Damn, this is so nice!” Monika cried, feeling giddy. She didn’t even look behind her and instead kicked off her sandals and walked barefoot on the warm sand.

She found a spot right in the middle of the beach, set down her towel, weighted it down with her bag and a book, and then sat to enjoy the view.

A fishing boat crossed the landscape. Marine birds flew overhead, lazily floating on the breezes. Pages flicked, and then flicked back as words made no sense. Someone passed by, crunching sand. Waves rolled lazily, as if the wind barely had any energy to move the water.

“Excuse me,” She heard a deep voice.

Monika looked up from the book she had been ignoring, and the man standing there made her eyes go wide. His skin was dark, a rich caramel and that thought just felt right. He was slender, not muscular; a pretty face with a close-trimmed black beard that Monika had once heard her sister describe as “thigh tickler”. The thought made her shift in place.

“Oh, hi,” She said, more meekly than she had hoped.

“Just wanted to say,” What was that accent? Spanish? Turkish? She couldn’t place it. “That you are a beautiful woman.”

Monika started chuckling. Looking around. “Oh, well… heheh, thanks?” She said, feeling stupid. Feeling giddy. Feeling… good. Why was she feeling like this? She didn’t care for guys but when was the last time a girl—or anyone— had called her beautiful? “Look, thanks, but I am not interested…”

Then he laughed. A soft, melodious thing that was making Monika feel strange. “Oh, the day I hear someone is not interested in being called beautiful is the day the sky rends asunder and the world ends.”

Woah, Monika thought. She put a hand on her chest, touched air, then moved her hand until she found her chest. She felt her pulse.

“That is…”

She looked up at his dark eyes.

Pulse.

Suddenly, Monika stood up.

“Yes, thanks for the complimentbutIneedtocooldown—” She said, stepping quickly across the sand. Kicking herself for that last thing. Cool down? He could’ve misunderstood that! She thought. And he probably would.

The water hit her like a cold snap in summer. A blessedly welcomed cold. She dipped underwater, her long brown hair streaming behind her. She kicked with her legs, feeling the water waving and her own body waving with it. She came up for air a way from the beach, where she could float without kicking some sand. She deliberately didn’t look towards her stuff.

Now what? She thought, feeling a little more coherent.

A little wave made her sink underwater. Light broke through the surface, tinting the bottom of the sea a greenish-bluish hue. Rocks and discarded boat parts were down there. Treasure natural and reclaimed by nature.

Monika came up for air with energy. Her arms stroking over the water. For some reason, she just felt like moving.

Ganymede felt silly until she looked at her reflection.

The swimsuit fit her better than she had expected, but it also showed her that she was a hypocrite for calling Monika a slob.

She turned around, seeing her buttocks barely contained by the purple neoprene bottoms. They weren’t as smooth and toned as she had thought of them for the longest time.

“I need to work out,” She told herself.

She turned around, standing with her arms to the side. The surfer’s bikini was all light purple and black. The top was more of a shirt than a bikini, but it fit so snuggly that had it not been for her own issues, she would’ve said she looked hot. But her body was too long, and not full where it mattered.

“You need to exercise more,” She told her reflection.

Ganymede suddenly stood up straight. The neoprene fabric moved over her torso, between her buttocks.

“Oh,” She said.

The room was silent. She heard only the rustling of olive trees outside the window.

“You need to work out,” She told her reflection.

The same deep tingly feeling flared up from the bottom of her pelvis.

She cocked her hips, tipper one shoulder down.

“Maybe if you work out more,” She licked her lips. “You’ll look better in this.”

Ganymede put her hands on her hips. This suit did fit her well. So very well. Even with the little extra kilos, she still had her rollercoaster waist. And her height, while annoying, really did made her stand out. The neoprene top had two lines of blue running from one shoulder to the other, bringing the eyes to just how wide her back was; and that made her look all the hotter.

“I want to look better in this,” Her left hand moved over her belly. “I want to look… hot… in this—ooh.”

Ganymede shivered, fingernails digging into the skin just under her bellybutton.

Monika got out of the water feeling like a diamond.

She had gone from one end of the cove to the other, what, nine times? Maybe fifteen. The swim and water had felt too good to worry about numbers.

Her heart hammered in her chest, her every breath deep and rich and full of the wonderful scents of this island. The back of her arms ached, and her thighs were a little chaffed where they had rubbed from all the paddling she did.

But, damn, did she feel so good.

She got to her stuff, which was exactly where she had left it. She dug around in her bag, and sighed when she realised she didn’t have anything to drink. And the closest one was at the top of the cliff.

Sand crunching behind.

“Excuse me,” The man with the pretty face said.

Not again, Monika thought, looking up and seeing a water bottle extended her way.

She raised an eyebrow. His smile was courteous.

The water was just what she needed.

Maybe I need some of him, the thought appeared like a hailstorm in August. The man gave her the smile of someone who could read thoughts, and she started blushing. Then she blushed even more when she realised that she had been staring at him for a good while.

Fuck, he is hot, She thought. “Thanks,” Monika said. She licked some water off her lips. Imagined his lips on hers. Felt something tingle from the bottom of her pelvis.

“Your welcome. Thought you might be thirsty after that swim and, well, I needed an excuse to keep talking to you,” He said.

Monika giggled, looked away, then looked back at him.

Her eyes wandered over his caramel skin. That slender tummy, with a bit of love handles. And those tight shorts showing all of his thighs and legs. The black hair made him look all the more...

Virile, Monika thought. Hard virile cock. She noted the erection outlined in the tight spandex. And, to his credit, he did seem to be trying to point it away from her.

“Might hear this a lot, but that is a funny name for a place. I didn’t know England had such silly names!”

Point it right at me you slab of—

It was like having a sudden power outage. Monika blinked, realising where her brain was going. She stammered, and realised that she had held a semi-coherent conversation with a man all the while thinking of fucking him and she didn’t even know what she had said.

“SorrybutIgottago.” She said, quickly picking her stuff up and running up the cliff side.

Ganymede’s neck was a little uncomfortable, but that didn’t matter. Her back was arched, her buttocks raised. She could feel the skin on her belly stretching uncomfortably, and her hips were beginning to cramp from having her legs wide open. But none of that mattered. One hand ran up and down the inside of her legs before it started drawing circles on her pussy. Her black hair was a mess, stuck to her sweaty forehead and neck. But it didn’t matter.

“Hmm… yes, the pain is good. It’ll burn so much when I am working out. When I am balancing on the waves,” Ganymede’s right hand drew circles around her pussy and through the bikini bottom. Ever now and then her lips would wrap around her left index finger.

Her eyes closed, Ganymede was somewhere else. Jumping from scene to scene like an epileptic actress. One moment she was surfing on a long board, high up on a wave, feeling like the queen of the world. The next she was lifting weight in only a bikini, with other women encouraging her to max out her lifts.

“I’ll be the hottest surfer bitch,” She moaned, grinding her hips around and around as her fingers danced round and round.

Her bikini bottoms were rubbing between her ass cheeks, and if she moved just right the fabric would also rub over her wet pussy as she circled and circled and got lost in this wonderful feeling.

She’d be tanned gold. So hot. Water dribbling form her high ponytail, her sponsored branded surfing gear tied to her leg by a little line, kind of like a collar. So hot.

“Oh, gosh,” Ganymede moaned. She twisted, sitting back on her legs. She pressed her chest forward as if displaying herself to someone. Felt her breasts constrain against the neoprene fabric. She opened her eyes, and looked at the hungry babe in the mirror. “I am, like, such a fuckin’ hot surfer girl. Like, a totes hot bikini babe.” She said, and that electric feeling spread from her chest, from her crotch, up and down her spine. Like a hundred fingers stroking her skin. Like kisses when it really matters. Like food after a workout.

“I’ll totally be the hottest babe in town,” She said, playing with one neoprene covered boob, not entirely aware of how heavy and big they were now. Ganymede sat on her knees, pressing her crotch towards the mirror. A wet patch showed through the bikini bottoms, displaying the outline of her pussy. She imagined it was throbbing, visibly showing how fucking hot she was. Her torso suspended in the air, held taut by her taut belly. Her totes hot bikini babe belly. She ran her other hand down her abs, feeling the tightness of all those workouts.

“Working out until no one can stop looking at me,” She moaned. Her hand went under her bikini bottoms, and she collapsed back on the bed.

She rubbed her back on the soft covers, pinched a nipple through the top.

She’d have a wide back, muscular. So hot. Strong legs that let her keep her balance and control the board so well. So hot. She’d be able to hold a squat for so long; controlling her centre of gravity with simple movements. So hot. Passing a perfect tube as a wave starts closing in. So hot. Being stared at by all the totes hot boys and girls staring at her because she’s the hottest bikini babe in the beach and when she gets back to the shore being chatted up by hot muscular men.

“Fuck… that’s so wrong I love it so much,” Ganymede whimpered. Getting closer and closer to the crest of another wave. “Yes.

But that was a little gross, so she would push them away and instead fuck her girlfriend, but she would invite them in so she could have some cock in her but they didn’t matter, only their cocks, and all she wanted was to make hot surfer love with her hot girlfriend.

“Using them up. Just using them. Using them.” She moaned, rubbing faster, faster. Reaching the crest.

“Fuck them like the surfer dudes they are and oh fuckin’ god!”

The wave crashed.

Monika felt her chest rise and fall; felt the snugness of the swimsuit on her body. Felt the sweat dribble down the small of her back and collect there. She felt the sun on her brow, and felt the happiness exuding from the family of four playing with a giant beach ball in the swimming pool.

But she didn’t feel tired at all.

What she did feel was hot.

Burning hot.

Needy hot.

She hadn’t felt so hot in a long while. Maybe a year? She couldn’t tell. It had been a slippery slope, and she had been sliding down that slope for a long time. Growing for a long time. Becoming a stranger in her own body. Ganymede still kissed her, still loved her. Still touched her. But she didn’t touch herself. How could she like her own body?

A tingle went down her spine.

She placed a hand over her belly, feeling the absence of girth. Feeling light. Feeling the edge of her ribs. What was going on?

Monika shook her head, and started walking.

A blonk sound, and she turned around to pick what she dropped.

“Here,” The receptionist said.

Warmth spread from places. Fuck, Monika thought, if a curse or a desire, she couldn’t tell.

“Uhmm… E-efkáristo.”

The girl smiled. She put her hands around Monika’s hand; they felt cold. “Efcharistó,” She said, looking straight into Monika’s eyes.

She’s so pretty, Monika thought. Her heart was beating so fast.

“Efcharistó,” Monika repeated. Not looking away.

“How are you feeling?” The girl said, moving closer to Monika.

Monika wanted to move. But she also wanted to feel more of this delicious electric feeling coursing all over her chest and hips and belly and back and oh, fuck…

“I… hmm… good?”

The girl cocked her head to the side, “Really? That’s all?”

“I… uhmm…” Monika wanted to look away. “I have to go and see my g-girlfriend.”

The receptionist took another step forward, moving Monika’s hands against her chest. Holding her in a pleading position with only the book and towel to protect her. Monika blushed, feeling the girl’s finger suddenly on her ample, firm bosom. Her firm bosom.

She pressed her thighs together.

“Of course. You want to show her how hot you are, don’t you?”

“I—“ Monika began. Felt the hand squeeze her boob. Bit her lip. Stared deep into those dark eyes.

“Yes. You want to show off how hot you are. She is your girlfriend. And you need to show off to her. Be eye candy for her. Be hers. Do as she says,” Another squeeze.

Monika wanted to whimper, to scream, to nod, to say yes, to put her own fingers inside her, to ride a cock, to eat her girlfriend out… to do what this cute Mediterranean girl was telling her.

She hugged her towel and stuff closer to her body.

“You’ll be hers,” The receptionist said.

And those words cut through Monika like a hot knife through butter.

She was nodding, eyelids flickering.

The receptionist smiled, gave her boob a squeeze, and then patted Monika’s cheek affectively. “Now, go and get your little girlfriend. Do as she tells you from now on,” The girl’s voice sounded so far away. Farther away than the ocean.

Monika felt a shiver go down her spine, nestle between her legs. It was as if part of her had just leaked out of her.

“Yes. I will…” She whispered.

Ganymede was getting out of the towel and into her new favourite bikini when she heard fumbling at the door.

She winked at the totes hot bikini babe in the mirror, took the towel off her wet hair, and then faced the door.

Her jaw hit the floor.

The woman huffing at the door was a memory come real. Wide hips, boobs that needed more than one hand to be cupped fully. The swimsuit fit her so perfectly, enhancing her curvaceous body, showing off toned arms and toned legs. She was short, curvy, and so hot.

“Gany… we’ve got… a situation,” Monika huffed. She looked up, and dropped her things when she saw how good Ganymede looked in her surfer bikini.

“Gany, you’ve got abs!” Monika exclaimed. “A-and… and tits!”

Ganymede frowned, looked at her body. Well, duh. I am a totes hote surfer girl, she thought. She looked up at her girlfriend, at her pretty freckles and messy brown hair. She took a step forward

Monika stepped forward too.

Something was welling up Ganymede’s throat. Tears and emotion, thoughts from months blended together into a mess of too many things unsaid.

Suddenly Monika’s cheek stings in pain. She turns away, bringing one hand to her cheek. The sting from the slap making her cry.

“What the…” The shorter girl said.

Suddenly she felt a hand wrap around her hair and before she knew it, Ganymede forced her face close and their lips were wet and warm and so sweet. A tongue explored inside her mouth, a hand found the small of her back. Her own hands found Gany’s back, her tight ass. They pressed against one another, kissing deeply, wantonly.

She felt her head being pulled back.

“You fucking slut,” Ganyemede said, voice breaking. She sniffed. Kissed Monika again.

“What?”

Ganymede kissed her again, then pulled her hair again. “I’ve been so worried about you for so long!”

“What!?” Monika said again. Feeling her cheek. She felt hot. Not angry, just hot. She had never liked being rough but… fuck, that had felt so nice.

“You stopped taking care of yourself, Mon,” Ganymede said, pulling Monika in close. She started stroking her girlfriend’s hair. “I’ve been so worried about you. Your health. Your mind. Just… I tried to help you, but I don’t know how. Nothing I did ever… seemed to work. And… and then I started getting so tired of it.”

Monika hugged her girlfriend tighter. Ganymede placed her chin on Monika’s head.

“You… you started getting so bitchy,” Monika whispered.

“I know.”

“Insulting. Angry all the time. Just… at some point I wanted to do something, anything, and I couldn’t, and you being such a cunt made me want to do fuck all and eat more and…”

“I am sorry.” Ganymede said.

“Same…” Monika added.

The olive trees rustled outside.

Ganymede felt Monika’s hand on her back, stroking, softly.

“You feel good,” Ganymede said, nuzzling Monika’s hair.

Monika’s hand wandered down her hips, stroking, touching. She shivered. Her own hands moved away from Monika’s brown locks, down the smooth surface of the swimsuit, lower and lower.

They parted slightly, locked stares.

“You look… so hot,” Monika said, “Like a—”

“Bikini babe?”

“Yeah.”

The two shivered.

Hands found warmth. They spread their legs a little, moved closer, getting comfortable.

“Am I a bikini babe?” Ganymede said, kissing Monika on the neck.

“Oh, fuck… yes…” Monika moaned, her hips starting to grind. While her fingers stroked Ganymede’s pussy through the purple fabric, her other hand tried to feel just how tight and muscular her buttocks were. “You are my hot bikini babe.”

Suddenly Ganymede pulled back, looking at Monika with a hard stare that made the shorter girl feel tiny and owned.

“Yours?” Ganymede said, lifting one eyebrow.

“Ehmm… you are my… girlfriend…”

Smack! The sound paralyzed Monika. The sting made her so wet. “Ow!”

Suddenly, Ganymede smiled and pushed Monika hard. The curvy girl tittered and fell back on the bed. Before she could stand on her elbows, she felt hands on her shoulders pushing her down.

“I am not yours, Mon,” Ganymede said, straddling her chest. She rubbed her crotch against Monika’s body before leaning over to kiss Monika on the lips. “You are mine.”

Monika moaned into Ganymede’s mouth; started to grind her hips against the air.

“Say it,” Ganymede said.

“Monika pressed her lips together, tried not to smile.

Ganymede frowned, then smiled. She leaned back, showing off her slender body. She ran a hand down her belly, under her bikini bottoms. The fingers danced, and finally came out with a wet pop. The bikini snapped on Ganymede’s body as she brought a wet finger close to Monika’s lips.

Monika’s lips parted, her tongue tried to sneak through but she closed the trap. She shook her head, her eyes hungry.

“If you say it, I’ll let you eat me,” Ganymede said, moving a finger back and forth.

Monika bit her lips, smiled.

“You want to say it, Mon. You want to make it final. You know it is already true. You are mine. My pretty girl. You want to worship my cunt, don’t you?”

Monika nodded.

“You want to taste this?” Ganymede dangled her finger over Monika’s lips.

Monika stretched her neck, but Gany’s fingers were faster.

“Say it.”

They locked stares.

“Say it.”

A finger pressed against lips.

A tongue touched a salty taste.

“I am yours.”

Ganymede leaned, kissed Monika softly. Her legs shifted, and she moved herself until her bikinied crotch was on Monika’s.

Monika’s hands started pulling down the bikini bottoms, but she felt Ganymede’s hands stop her.

“Through the bikini.” Ganymede said.

And there was no arguing about that.

Hours later, there was a knock at the door.

Ganymede opened her eyes, drowsy and confused.

Monika was already stirring, “Coming…” She mumbled.

Then came the sound.

The two women suddenly stood up and took a couple steps to stand before the door.

“Come in,” They said.

The door opened, and in walked the receptionist. She had a sports bag in one hand. Behind her, a man in white button-down shirt, tropical shorts, a Panama hat and sun glasses came in. He glanced at the two women standing at attention, noted something on a pad, then went to move one of the chairs closer to them.

“Woah, they look so hot,” The receptionist spoke in Greek.

The man shrugged. “Get the stuff ready.”

The girl, set the bag on the floor, pulled out a pair of motorcycle helmets and a laptop. She gave the laptop to the man, who sat down and began typing.

“I’d love to eat you two,” The receptionist told the two women before she lowered one of the black helmets on Monika. If they heard her, they didn’t react.

Monika shivered.

“Specially you,” The girl told Ganymede as she lowered the helmet.

Ganymede shivered.

“Antennae,” The man mumbled.

The receptionist tittered on her toes and pulled out two antennas from the top of the helmet.

“And we’re in,” The man said. The hard drive on the laptop started spinning audibly faster.

The receptionist turned to the two beauties, running her hands over their swimsuits. Her face getting redder and redder.

“If only we could keep them, Daddy,” The girl said.

“Don’t call me that,” The man said. His hands moved on the keys. “They’re hooked on the suits now. Personality simulation… installed. Huh,” The man turned to the girl. “So that’s what you went for?”

She shrugged and moved away from the two women. She walked to the fruit bowl, picked up an apple. “It’s what I had to work with. Seemed fitting.”

The man nodded approvingly.

The girl blushed, and smiled as she bit into the apple.

He tapped on some keys. “Aaaand Brand Ambassador program installed.”

The two women suddenly stirred. They stepped away from one another, placed their hands on their hips, and stood with legs akimbo, chests out, shoulders back. Like they were displaying themselves.

The receptionist smiled. “Is that it?”

“Of course not. But it is as much as we can do today,” The man said, typing some more. After a while, he closed the laptop and started taking the helmets off.

The receptionist put everything in the bag.

Ganymede and Monika simply stood like two mannequins.

“We’ve got four days to finish customization,” The receptionist said, scanning the room to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind.

“More than enough time to make them happy.” The man added as the two left the room.