The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Daniel sat in silence and watched a still shaky Jackson down his fourth beer and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. The boy looked lost, unable to focus on anything. Daniel stole a glance at Cindy, who was sitting next to him, quiet and unfazed and looking at Jackson with a mixture of pity and resolve in her eyes. What is going on in that head of hers, he wondered, not for the first time.

“How could she?” mumbled Jackson, lifting a hand to get the attention of their waitress. Around them, the buzz of the Saturday night crowd could still be felt, even though they were not in the most popular bar of the area.

“I think you know full well how she could,” answered Daniel, his eyes boring into Jackson’s.

“I don’t know what—”

Daniel sighed. “Jackson, cut the act. Cindy told me everything. And between that and what Rad and I figured out, the picture’s pretty clear—your frat snatched girls and did something to them so that you could use them without the girls remembering a thing afterwards. Cindy here was such a—well, a sex slave, frankly. Kyra is one. And Biff made Jenn into one.”

Jackson was looking at him with surprise and not a small amount of guilt. He said nothing while the waitress dropped a fifth bottle of beer on the table, eyeing Daniel and Cindy to see if they wanted something themselves and leaving with a shrug when they shook their heads.

“It sounds... pretty bad when you put it that way,” finally mumbled Jackson.

“No shit,” replied Daniel.

After a quick glance at Cindy, Jackson seemed to lose the little bit of countenance he had left. His shoulders dropped. “Fine. Yeah, you’re right, of course. And yeah, I guess it was pretty bad. It is pretty bad. But it wasn’t what I signed up for when I pledged the frat.”

“But you didn’t complain when you found out, did you?” Daniel’s stare was hard.

The criticism drew a rise out of Jackson. “No, I didn’t complain. Fuck, man, who would? All these girls available, and they don’t argue about it, hell, they even put moves on you. What was I supposed to do, start screaming that it’s not right?”

“Yes, pretty much. Not that difficult.”

“Harder than you think. At least for me.” He stared in the distance.

“So Kyra...” started Daniel after a long pause.

Jackson closed his eyes. “Yes, Kyra is one of... one of them. Since sometimes last year, before I was in on what was going on.”

“So back in February, that party there, when Kyra came to me and... You sent her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah... I was sorta drunk, and you were hurting because... Well, it was stupid.” He glanced at Cindy. “But hey, she enjoyed it too. I mean, she’s got this thing where she likes being told what to do.”

But Daniel had something else he needed to confirm. “So you knew about Jenn?”

Jackson stammered and grabbed his beer, squeezing it tight. He avoided Daniel’s eyes. To his credit, he did look ashamed of himself.

“And now Biff’s got his hands on both of them.”

Jackson growled. “That fuckin’ bastard!”

“Oh please! Other guys from the frat must have used her. Biff’s just doing to her what you’ve done to her. You can just get her back the way that Biff got her. That’s what you do, no? Pass her around like a bong at a Dead concert?”

Jackson reacted like Daniel had slapped him in the face, eyes blazing, hand tightening on his beer.

Daniel tensed up, anticipating Jackson pushing back his chair and attacking him. He was ready, and almost happy to have an outlet for his own fiery outrage. But Jackson quickly slumped back down.

“I guess it looks that way, don’t it? But it’s not like that. I really, really like her. And she likes me. I know that. Without the... without the programming, or anything, she really likes me. I didn’t force her. I mean, I can’t deny it, I did use her. But I like her. And I don’t want to see her hurt. And Biff might do that.” He threw a glance at Cindy. Daniel looked at her askance.

Cindy, who had remained silent until now, spoke up, her voice soft. “Biff can be... difficult. He didn’t used to be mean. Just loved to play mind games and stuff. But he’s... different now. Ever since he got his hands on Jenn. I don’t know...”

Jackson grunted, but did not comment. He drank.

“Jackson,” said Daniel, “we gotta do something. We’re in this together right now. Biff got Jenn and Kyra. And we have to get them back. Can you think of anything that would help? Anything you’ve heard? How does it work anyways?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m pretty low on the totem pole at the frat. I’m the new guy, and they don’t tell me things. All I know is that there was this doctor guy that took care of programming the girls—”

“Cargyle?”

Jackson looked at Daniel oddly. “I never heard his name. Never saw him either. Bernie just called him the doctor. There’s a sort of lab in the basement at the frat that he used, but no one really can go in.”

“Past tense? So what Cindy heard is true? What happened to him?”

“Don’t know. Don’t even know that anything happened to him. But the story going around is that he’s gone underground, and hasn’t been at the house since Christmas. And some of the guys are grumbling that there hasn’t been any new girls since then.”

“You said something about Bernie. I remember Biff saying something about Bernie. What about him? Can he help?”

“Bernie seems to have disappeared I haven’t seen him since... Well, since Biff went on his trip two months ago. Nothing. His room at the house has been cleared. Fact is, I thought he had gone with Biff, but I’m not sure. He hasn’t been back.”

“So who can help us?”

“I don’t know.”

Daniel looked down at the table. “So we have to find the doctor after all...” he said, more to himself than anyone else. He looked back to Jackson. “Do you know if what they did to the girls is reversible?”

“No clue. No one ever said anything about that.” He looked at Cindy again. Daniel looked at her as well. He thought he knew what Jackson meant. So Jackson knew about Cindy’s condition. Cindy nodded. Jackson finished his thought. “Cindy here is the only girl I know that has managed to overcome the... programming.”

“How did you do it?” asked Daniel.

“I didn’t,” replied Cindy. “As I said, it just stopped affecting me. I didn’t do anything to prompt that reaction.”

“And it doesn’t work at all anymore?”

“Well, we could always try.” She looked at Jackson. “Go on. Fire me up.” There was a slight tremor in her voice, and Daniel could see a flash of desire in her eyes.

Jackson was hesitant. “Cindy, I don’t know if—”

“Come on. Fire me up.”

Jackson looked at her for a beat, turned his head to look at Daniel who did not say anything, then turned back to Cindy. He sighed. “What the fuck. Fine.” He lifted his left hand so that it was on the table, the fraternity ring on his finger prominently displayed. After a pause, and after looking around to see if anyone was listening, he intoned, “Cindy, I am your DIK brother.”

Cindy shivered, and her eyes flashed to the ring on Jackson’s finger. After closing her eyes and sighing, she relaxed, then shook her head. “No. Nothing. I mean,” she said, opening her eyes, “there was a rather pleasant buzz there at the beginning, but it faded quickly. Like it’s been doing for a while now. And I don’t feel compelled to listen to you, Jackson. Although I do feel somewhat horny.” She grinned to Daniel, who rolled his eyes.

He had missed nothing of the exchange. He had seen Jackson move his hand, and seen Cindy look at the ring after he had said what he might refer to as the magic words. He thought about what he knew.

“Do you think it has anything at all to do with you not wearing a charms bracelet?” he asked.

Cindy looked at her wrist. “I doubt it. This started well before I gave up my bracelet.”

“I never knew exactly what the bracelet was for,” added Jackson. “Aside from identifying the girls that were available. Bernie did say something about anchoring the programming, whatever that means.”

“In some hypnosis scenarios, the subject is helped by having a token to which to direct their attention to remain in the trance. Perhaps that’s what the bracelet is for?”

Jackson shrugged. “Bernie did say that without the bracelet the girl could become unstable when she was triggered. So yeah, maybe.”

Daniel was still thinking about Cindy’s reaction. “Maybe you have some sort of natural immunity. Didn’t you say that you thought that there were drugs involved? Jackson, do you have any idea the process that they used?”

Jackson shook his head. “No. I mean, I saw the lab once, and there definitely were instruments that I guess could deliver drugs and stuff, but there was also a lot of electronic junk around.”

“Do you think you could get into that lab and get some info?”

“It’s locked up pretty tight.”

“Do you want to help Kyra?”

Jackson made to say something, but stopped himself, chastised. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Daniel nodded. He wanted to tell Jackson he had Radhu looking for the doctor, and that the FBI seemed to be looking for him as well, but decided to keep that bit of information to himself. He did not trust Jackson just yet. Jackson was upset and angry at Biff right now, but who knew where his true allegiances would lie once he had calmed down. He had one last question for Jackson.

“Biff said something about having Jenn do something to herself if they were ever separated. Is that true?”

“How should I know?”

“I mean, does that fit with what you guys have done with the girls? Is that even possible?”

Jackson seemed to take the question seriously, thinking about it before replying. “I don’t know. I was told that there was no way to get the girls to do something when they were not triggered—no post suggestions, or whatever they’re called. Now, you gotta keep in mind—I don’t know what they did to Jenn. As far as I know, it wasn’t the doctor that did it, it was Bernie.”

“And Bernie’s gone.”

“Bernie’s gone.”

Cindy suddenly stiffened, making a face like she had just thought of something.

“What?” asked Daniel. She looked worried.

“Marjorie.”

Daniel looked at her, not understanding what she was driving at; Jackson appeared equally confused.

And then Jackson’s eyes widened, and a look of horror crossed his face. “Fuck! You don’t think...?”

“What about Marjorie?” asked Daniel.

Cindy looked dejected. “Marjorie. I heard the guys talk once—it’s amazing what they’ll say when they think you’re a little ditz with only getting off on her mind. They said that she was an experiment, about keeping a girl triggered for long periods of time.”

Jackson nodded. “I remember someone saying something like that too—but they never talked about her much.”

“Kevin did,” Cindy said. The fraternity president, thought Daniel, Biff’s cousin. “And he said she was getting unstable. And that the doctor was complaining his equipment was inadequate for the kind of fine work needed to pull off that sort of adjustment to someone’s mind. Kevin was worried about Marjorie going postal and blowing it for the frat, and that he’d have to pick up the pieces.”

Daniel thought back to the party at the New American Deal Association, where he had seen Marjorie collapse on a makeshift stage after some sort of seizure or stroke. That had been the last time anyone had ever seen her. Except for Serena, who had said Marjorie had been carted off to a sanatorium, or something like that, to recover from her ordeal. But can Serena be trusted about that? he wondered.

“You’re thinking,” he asked Cindy, “that Biff did something similar to Jenn that had been done to Marjorie, to keep her—what did you call it? triggered?—for longer periods of time?”

“That’s pretty much the only way I can see that he managed to go on a two-month long trip with her. She would have been okay with it while she was triggered, but once she was out of it, she would have tried to contact someone when she realized she was not home anymore.”

“And you’re worried the process is unstable, and that she might break down as well?”

Cindy merely nodded.

“So what really happened to Marjorie?”

Both Cindy and Jackson shook their head. “No idea,” said Jackson. “I haven’t seen her around since Christmas. She disappeared pretty much when the doctor disappeared. And he was always with her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s with him now, wherever he is.”

“So we have to hurry and get Jenn out of there,” concluded Daniel.

“And Kyra,” added Jackson.

“And Kyra, of course.”

A hush fell over the table, while Jackson finished his beer and gestured to the waitress to bring him another one. He seemed less angry than he had been earlier.

The silence was broken by Daniel’s cell phone beeping at him that he had a text message. He glanced at it. It was Radhu.

Found the doctor. Call me.

“Excuse me a minute,” he said, leaving the table. He found a quieter corner of the bar, near the restrooms. He dialed Radhu’s number.

“It’s me. What’s up?”

“I have narrowed down a location for our elusive caregiver, the plausibility of which I estimate to lie beyond what laymen would consider a reasonable doubt.”

“Where is he?”

“Your original intuition was correct. Our good doctor met with Serena regularly, although under a disguise sufficiently sophisticated to deceive my basic facial recognition algorithm. With a more refined search restricted to the Serena footage, it was possible to isolate him. He rendezvoused with Serena three times in the period from early February to the end of March. The meetings all occurred on a Wednesday, at four in the afternoon, at a small establishment in the mall downtown, faithfully covered by a security video camera.”

“Excellent. You mean it’s likely they’re going to meet there again soon?”

“Yes, highly likely. But monitoring the premises may not be necessary. They violated their pattern once. In early March, on a Wednesday, at four in the afternoon, instead of meeting in town as per their established pattern, Serena instead journeyed to an abandoned building on East Campus, the old Ryder Hall, former home of the Mathematics Department.”

“Abandoned building on East Campus. The only one I can think of is the small one next to the power station.”

“The one and the same. Darnell has it scheduled for demolition once students leave campus for summer break, according to internal documents.”

“Serena might just have been researching a story...”

“The probability of such an event is nonzero, of course. But inductive reasoning suggests that she was calling on our evasive health provider—”

“At his home away from home,” completed Daniel.

“Precisely. An hypothesis confirmed by the fact that isolating the feed from a surprisingly conveniently situated camera produced several instances of the good doctor entering and leaving the aforementioned building.”

Daniel was thinking hard. “Anyone else?”

“Only Serena, that one time.”

“Thanks Rad, that’s exactly what I needed to hear. Can you figure out whether he’s in there now?”

“The feed ago showed him entering the building two days ago, at night. He has not been out since, if we assume that the door covered by the camera is the sole mean of egress.”

“Then I guess it’s time to go talk to Doctor Snowman.”

“I must take this opportunity to remind you of the danger potential of the situation. We know virtually nothing about this man. I have been investigating him online, and does not seem to have a digital footprint. In fact, he seems to not even exist.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. You got at least one camera that can track me there?”

“Only the one external camera at the power station that covers the building. I cannot peer inside.”

“Keep an eye on me when I go in. If I don’t come out within a reasonable time, call the cops.”

“Please define reasonable time?”

“Let’s say if I’m not out of there within an hour.”

“And you are certain you would not prefer me to warn the police beforehand? Or perhaps the FBI agent that introduced herself to you?”

“I don’t trust them. Cindy said some of the cops are in on the whole thing. I can’t chance it. I need to talk to this guy before anyone else does. Including the FBI.”

“I am not overjoyed, but I understand. I will strive to maintain my phone clear in case you require assistance.”

“Perfect. Thanks Rad, I owe you another one.”

“Nonsense. Please be cautious.”

Daniel headed back to the table. Jackson was gone. “Restroom,” said Cindy. “Probably throwing up. Everything okay?”

“Getting better. Look Cin, I gotta go. Can I ask you a big favor?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Can I borrow your taser?”

Cindy raised an eyebrow. “You’re not thinking of going after Biff, are you?”

“No, not today. Please?”

Cindy held his eyes for a few seconds. Daniel tried to keep his face as unreadable as possible. Finally, she reached for her bag, and handed him the small device, keeping her hands underneath the table. “Here. But be careful, okay? You know how to use it?”

“Aim and shoot.”

“Pretty much. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot. You won’t be happy.”

“Thanks Cin. I’ll have it back to you tonight.”

“Only if you tell me what’s going on then.”

“Promised.”

“Can I go with you?”

“Not a good idea. I promise I won’t do anything crazy, and I’ll tell you all about it tonight, okay? And please don’t follow me.”

Cindy looked at him for another long moment, before nodding.

“Thanks Cin.” He hesitated, then leaned over to give her a quick kiss.

He left the bar, plotting where he could purchase the equipment he now needed.

In a dark corner of the bar, her raven hair and leather coat fading into the shadows, a glass of vodka sitting untouched on the table before her, Agent Eve Shawbank had watched Daniel Malcolm return to the table after taking his phone call, and seen the transfer of the taser—an M26C, as far as she could tell—from the blonde girl to Malcolm. A small tablet computer on her lap was still displaying a copy of the text messages sent to and from Malcolm’s cell phone. She made a mental note to thank Brisecoeur for that admittedly convenient application. Or not.

The last text message was the one that interested her.

Found the doctor. Call me.

Agent Shawbank permitted herself a rare smile.

She waited for Malcolm to leave the bar before following him, making sure that the little blonde cutie with the delectable legs that Malcolm had hooked did not notice her.

Brad Emerson made sure that his car was hidden from the road by the row of bushy trees before shutting the engine and getting out. He stared at the beat-up car he had parked next to, recognizing it from all the times he had seen it in the underground parking of the Delta Iota Kappa frat house. Biff had asked him to make sure he was not followed, and Brad was pretty sure he had not been.

Going up the steps of the main house of a small farm completely indistinguishable from all other small farms in the countryside surrounding North Alexandria, Brad wondered why exactly Biff had called him. The frat president’s cousin had not wanted to talk on the phone, instead asking Brad to come see him instead. Brad had hesitated, knowing that Biff was persona non grata these days—the president’s own words—but had finally decided to go along with it because for one Biff was a friend, and second, Biff had told Brad that he could make it worth his while. And thus here he was.

Brad rang the doorbell, and waited. When the door opened, he was greeted by a sight he would have difficulty getting out of his mind in the days ahead.

Brad stared at the girl who had opened the door, his voice catching in his throat. She was as tall as he was, all in length, and with long flowing dark hair that draped over her shoulders. She wore a large white tee shirt bearing a Nike-style swoosh with Just Do Me written in bright red letters—it was almost a dress, and did nothing to hide the perfect frame supporting it. The collar was too wide and bared one shoulder. Brad eyed the breasts that could be glimpsed through the material. The shirt came down a few inches below the top of the girl’s thighs, covering her narrow hips but exposing a pair of long legs perched atop a tall pair of red stiletto heels.

When his eyes traveled back up to her face, with only a pause to take in a most kissable pair of lips painted bright red, he saw there were sparkles in her eyes as she looked at him. She was clearly amused by his blatant admiration. “You like?” she asked, her voice purring, caressing, bewitching.

Brad was nonplussed, something that did not happen very often, and it took him a second to regain his composure. He smiled, then shook his head. “What’s there not to like? I’m Brad.”

The beautiful brunette smiled in response to his own smile, and gingerly reached up with a hand and ran down the side of his cheek with a red nail. “Biff’s waiting for you Brad,” she said, and the way she said his name made Brad’s dick stiffen at once. “Follow Jennie.”

She turned around—her finger lingering on his face—and glided her way across the floor like a model on a catwalk, one perfect leg in front of the other, her hips swaying slightly in a silent come on. Brad’s eyes were glued to her ass, which looked invitingly tight underneath her long shirt.

Brad followed her into what had to be the living room. Biff was sitting on the couch, deep in the throes of a video game, muttering under his breath at the large television screen that looked severely out of place in the quaint farmhouse.

The tall girl—Jennie—walked up to stand next to Biff, and waited for him to finish whatever battle he was currently raging. Brad looked around the room, wondering what he was doing here, his eyes drawn over and over again to the tall brunette with the perfect legs.

When Biff tossed down his controller with a profanity, he didn’t even look up before patting his lap. “Get down here, doll.”

Jennie sat down onto his knees and put her arms behind his head before kissing him, hard. Biff ran a hand up her leg and Brad noted without any real surprise that the girl was not wearing any underwear.

The kiss lingered, a deep kiss that before too long had the girl moaning into Biff’s mouth while fidgeting on his lap as if her ass was on a hot stovetop. When her mouth freed up she whimpered, “You make Jennie so fuckin’ horny, big guy. And when she’s horny, she wants to fuck, you know that. Do you want to go somewhere and plow Jennie’s tight cunt?”

Biff grinned, then turned towards Brad. The girl turned as well and remembered her duty. “Oh yes, Brad’s here.”

“Brad! Good of you to make it.”

Jennie jumped off from Biff’s lap to let him stand. He gave her a rough slap on the ass that made her yelp. Brad marveled at how her breasts jiggled beneath her shirt as she jerked.

“Doll, be a dear and go get our other friend warmed up, okay?”

The tall brunette nodded, and practically skipped out of the room, stopping for a second next to Brad to look him in the eye and run a nail down his face in a repeat of what she had done had the door. “Maybe you might want to plow Jennie’s tight cunt,” she whispered, her eyes alight with what Brad recognized as overpowering lust. “She can make it very very good for you, you know.”

Brad did not doubt the statement for one second, but Biff intervened before Brad could say anything. “Leave him alone, doll—Brad and I have some business to discuss. Now move your cute ass out of here before I spank it off.”

“Promises, promises...” mumbled Jennie before leaving the room, swaying her hips while giving a quick glance to Brad over her left shoulder as if to make sure he was watching.

“She’s sweet, ain’t she?” Biff grasped Brad shoulder, shaking him off of his reverie.

“Yeah, she is. Who’s she?”

“My new toy. And don’t tell anyone,” and Biff lowered his voice in a mock conspiratorial tone, “but I think I’m in love!” He laughed, hard, and invited Brad to sit down.

Brad did so, electing to simply smile at Biff and say nothing, waiting for the big man to get around to why he wanted to see Brad in the first place.

Biff did not waste any time. “Brad, I’m looking for your support. You’re one of the good guys in the frat, and people look up to you.”

“They do? News to me.” He settled in his seat, uncomfortable. “What kind of support are you looking for anyways?”

Biff stared at him for a long time before speaking. “Here’s the scoop. I think my cousin’s been the big honcho for too long. I mean, I was behind him at first, like the rest of us, and I can’t deny that he’s done some good stuff, but he’s been keeping us down lately. Not allowing us to reach our full potential, you know, shit like that.”

Brad looked at Biff, fearing a trap. Deep inside, of course, he agreed with Biff—there had been a definite slowdown in frat activities these last few months, and there had also been no influx of new girls. The brothers had gotten used to getting a new girl every other week or so. Everyone was starting to grumble, that was sure, and he was one of them. He had shared that displeasure vocally to several of his friends, but a lot of it was venting. Brad was not convinced that ousting Kevin would help matters—the more reasonable part of him, the one that spoke softly when he was lying down in bed at night—could not help but suggest that their president had to have some sort of good reason to behave the way he did. It was infuriating, granted, but who knew what was really going on?

“I think he’s been okay,” Brad replied, cautious.

“Pfft!” Biff made a dismissive gesture. “Kev’s always been a know-it-all, ever since he was a little kid. And he hasn’t gotten any better. Always has to be on top, the best, the one everyone looks up to. Always has to be the smart one, the one to make decisions, the one that people admire. Always. Always a step above, always looking down on me. But no more. No more. Look, if he’s so okay, if he’s so great, how come we haven’t gotten ahead and gotten new chicks? Come on, I know you think like I do. Didn’t you mention that hot babe there, that sociology teacher, what’s her name? Christina Monroe? Didn’t you say you’d love to get your hands on that ass of hers? Why isn’t Kevin listening to you, trying to make you happy? He doesn’t care, that’s why. He never has.” Biff was agitated, his face growing redder as he spoke.

Brad tried hard to keep himself from reacting. Whatever else he might feel about the fraternity’s internal politics, this smelled like a family feud, not a disagreement about how to run the fraternity. And getting in the middle of a family feud when one member of said family was Biff Cusker, bully extraordinaire, and the other was Kevin Cusker, ruthless leader, well, that sounded like the most effective way to end up as collateral damage. Still, backing down before Biff was not an attractive proposition either.

“Let’s be honest here,” said Brad, feeling sweat drip down his back. “How much does this have to do with Kevin sending you away before?”

Anger flashed in Biff’s eyes, and he barely managed to squash it. “Oh, that didn’t help. But there were problems before. Come on, Brad, remember how hard we had to push him last year to get that Marjorie whore out there to work for us? Remember how much money the frat raked in? And Kev stonewalled the whole way.”

“Well, that Marjorie business did cause problems—”

“Bah! Most of it because Kev was too incompetent to keep things under control. No, I’m telling you, my wonderful cousin’s just got to go.” Scorn was dripping from Biff’s voice. Brad wondered briefly how far back the animosity that Biff held towards his cousin went.

“Biff, I don’t know. You’re putting me in an uncomfortable position here...”

Biff nodded. “I am, aren’t I?” He laughed. “I like you Brad, always have. You’re my kind of guy. Which is why I’m gonna make a deal with you. You get on my side, help me muster up the troops, and I get you something you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doll!” Biff shouted loud enough to be heard all through the farmhouse. “Get your ass down here and bring our friend!” He turned to Brad. “So, what do you think of Jennie?”

Brad was caught by surprise by the topic change. “She’s pretty hot...”

Biff laughed again. “She’s fuckin’ smokin’, you mean! I’ll let you in on a little secret, okay? Remember what the doc did to Marjorie?”

“What he did to Marjorie? What do you mean?... Oh! Wait! You mean, the way he made it so that she was triggered for long stretches at a time?”

Biff nodded, grinning, not saying a word.

Brad finally clicked. “You mean...? You mean Jennie’s like that? Triggered all the time?”

Biff was still grinning. “And not just that. She’s also aware. She just can’t control herself. You know, like that blonde cheerleader chick we got end of last year?”

Brad whistled, and his dick twitched at the thought. Triggered all the time, and therefore obeying all of Biff’s orders, and also aware of her actions, just not able to control them. This cut deep into some of Brad’s darkest repressed fantasies.

Before either of them could say anything further, Brad heard the clacking of Jennie’s heels on the hardwood floor. She appeared at the entrance of the living room. She was not alone.

Brad forgot to breathe for a few seconds.

Jennie held a chain in her hands, a chain that was attached to a collar tight around the neck of a naked girl with short red hair walking slowly on her hands and knees. When Jennie stopped and jerked once on the chain, the redhead immediately stopped as well and pulled herself up to a kneeling position.

Brad did not need to stare to recognize her. He stared anyway. Kyra. Naked, her breasts standing firm and proud on her chest, her beautiful body shiny in the light coming in from the window. Her eyes were cast down, her whole demeanor docile. Submissive. Her hands were joined atop her thighs. A large ball gag in her mouth kept her jaws from closing.

Jennie, holding the chain—no, a leash, was the thought that flashed in Brad’s mind, sending blood flowing to his groin in a rush that left him dizzy—stood next to Kyra, dominating the lithe redhead with a thin smile. She licked her lips while looking directly at Brad, who could do nothing more than swallow and look back down at Kyra.

“What... what’s this about?” he asked Biff, his eyes never leaving the kneeling redhead.

“What does it look like it’s about? You know our little Kyra there, don’t you? Except we don’t call her that here. We call her cunt. That’s what she is. A submissive little cunt, all wet and ready to be used. Oh come on—don’t make that face. I’ve got my sources, and they all agree that you’ve got a big hard-on for that submissive little cunt. Especially the submissive part”

Brad purposely did not look at Biff, focusing instead on Kyra’s hard nipples. The way Biff talked about it, he made it sound so dirty. Judgmental ass, thought Brad. Like you’re so much better than I am.

“The funny thing is,” continued Biff, “I didn’t even know she was a sub. We spent some quality time with her a couple of days ago, Jennie and I, and it was Jennie who realized exactly what the cunt was. But lemme tell you, I really dug that. I can really see what you see in her. Anyway, I got Jennie here to train her a bit—that doll has one crazy imagination and some pretty dirty ideas—wow! And the little cunt here has been getting better and better at following commands and acknowledging her true masters.”

Brad was still avoiding looking at Biff, and trying hard to figure out what the big guy’s play was here. Brad’s dick, as he fastened his eyes on Kyra’s ball gag, shiny with her saliva, large and tight enough to cause her to drool from the corner of her lips, those lips bright red against the black rubber ball—his dick was pushing him to just say fuck it and go grab Kyra and fuck her into the next century, perhaps getting the tall brunette with the long legs to help him out. With a supreme display of willpower, he controlled himself.

Biff must have read all of this in Brad’s eyes because he laughed out loud. “Here, let me demonstrate. Doll—you know what to do.”

Jennie smiled and looked down at the kneeling redhead before yanking sharply on the chain. “Guess what, little cunt?” She leaned towards the redhead, pulling on the chain. “You get to satisfy a cock now. Aren’t you the lucky one? You get to showcase all those hard-earned skills of yours. And you better make Jennie proud, cunt, or you’re going to be punished harder tonight than you’ve ever been before.” Jennie yanked on the leash once more, and Kyra shivered before going down on all four again, her eyes never lifting from the floor. Walking with exaggerated hip motions, Jennie catwalked slowly across the room in Brad’s direction, two steps ahead of Kyra. Brad’s eyes were fixated on Kyra’s breasts swinging gently as she struggled to keep up with the tall brunette.

Jennie yanked on the chain once to stop the redhead. Kyra went back to her kneeling position, eyes cast down.

“Go ahead,” said Biff. “She’s all yours.” He gestured to Jennie. “Give him the leash, doll.”

Brad was unable to take his eyes away from Kyra, his gaze directed at the space between her thighs where he could see that she was shaved bare, noting in passing that her skin really was shining as though she had been oiled up. Almost absently, he grabbed the leash that Jennie was proffering. “N...Now?” he said, finally.

“Of course. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll keep busy with my own toy.” He grinned at Jennie. “Come here, doll. And ditch the shirt. I wanna see your titties dance.”

“Are you gonna shove your big cock deep into Jennie’s tight cunt and make her come, big guy?” Jennie pulled her tee shirt over her head as she strode towards Biff, giving Brad a flash of her perfect naked ass. “You promised Jennie you’d let her come if she was good. And Jennie’s been very very good, don’t you think? Please?”

Brad was distracted from that exchange by Kyra unfastening his belt and working to pull down his pants. She never looked up at him, working deftly and in silence. He had been with her many times before, but this was different. Brad stole a glance in Biff’s direction. “Do I...? Is she...?”

Biff laughed as he pulled Jennie down between his legs. “That’s the beautiful thing, man—she’s not triggered right now. You’ve got the real deal there.”

Brad looked at Biff uncomprehendingly. “What do you mean, not triggered?” Then how could she be here, baring his dick, her breath short, if she was not triggered?

Biff grinned. “Just what I said. Pretty impressive, ain’t it? You know what the trick is? My little fuck doll Jennie here figured it out—just use the triggering against her. Show the cunt recordings of what she does when she’s triggered, show her that no matter what she wants, she gets used like the cunt she really is. Over and over again. Took two days for that little cunt there to break and accept the truth. Anyway, you can trigger her if you want, but she’s a lot more fun when she’s not. Trust me. It’s like fucking bareback: you do it once, you never want to do it any other way.”

While Brad tried to digest the news he had been imparted—turning his attention back to Kyra who was gently stroking his dick—Biff looked at Jennie who was playing with his own shaft. “You’ve got brains, doll, I give you that. But I’m not after your brains right now. Blow me good, doll, and I’ll consider consider making you come this time. No hands. Just your mouth. Oh! That’s it! Fuck! Oh yes!” Jennie’s head was bobbing slowly in Biff’s lap, and Brad was in the best possible position to admire the round buttocks of the tall brunette. “Tell you what, doll,” Biff continued, “if you beat your record for how long you can keep my cock stuffed down your throat, I’ll make you come. Deal?” He did not wait for an answer as he thrust his hips forward to skewer Jennie, who took it in stride.

Brad looked down at Kyra, who by that point had gingerly grabbed his erection in her hand and was slowly rubbing it up and down. He felt the leash in his hand, heard the chain clink when he moved. After watching her and especially feeling her for a while, he wound the leash in his fist and when it was taut he yanked on his, pulling Kyra’s head to the side. She stopped what she was doing. “Look at me,” he said, keeping his voice low, still ambivalent about Biff’s presence.

Kyra hesitated a second before lifting up her gaze towards Brad. He stared at her a long time, taking it all in—the fear, the acceptance, the lust fighting it out in her eyes in a kaleidoscopic fashion. She had a coat of makeup on, he realized. She’s been primped for this. Her skin had been oiled and her face had been decorated, like an offering of old. And Brad knew. He just knew that Biff would offer to give him Kyra in exchange for his support, for his assistance, for his help.

Kyra was still looking at him, silent, probably trying to divine what he wanted, trying to anticipate his needs. Her lips were stretched out over her ball gag, he could see, and he absent-mindedly ran a finger over the red flesh. He was thinking. Because of Kyra’s programming, of course, Brad could more or less use her anytime he wanted. Except that she was in love with Jackson, for real, and Jackson could cause problems if he ever decided that she was his exclusive. The frat boys would protest, of course, but the old bro code would kick in, the one that said that you do not fuck with a brother’s girl. Already Brad had to be careful with some of his friends at the frat because of his dallying with the cute redhead. But here she was, with him, right now, looking at him with desire, and without even being triggered, a submissive in training, and were he to claim her, he could have her drop Jackson and shack up with him, and he could have her any time he wanted, any way he wanted, for as long as he wanted.

He raised his eyes towards Biff on the other side of the room. Biff was leaning back with his eyes closed, letting the tall brunette on her knees between his legs worship his dick noisily, her hands together behind her back. This is exactly what he’s counting on, you know, Brad thought. That you want Kyra for yourself.

Back to Kyra, still staring at him, her hand stroking his dick. He stared back at her, hunger and apprehension clashing within him. He tugged on the leash once more, seeing her straighten up, at attention, and his dick jerked in response. “You little cunt,” he whispered. He caught the slight stiffening of her spine, the tension in her hand clenching on his erection. “You like this, don’t you, you little cunt?”

Unable to hold his gaze, she lowered her eyes and after a few heartbeats nodded.

“Look at me, you cunt!” She did, her eyes big. He loved the expression they held. “You like to be on your knees like that, ready to serve?”

Another nod.

“Show me.”

A hesitant look.

“Squeeze your tit and pinch your nipple.”

She reached up with a hand—keeping the other one on his dick—pressed it against one of her breasts and squeezed, the flesh blanching under the pressure, while she pinched the hard nipple between two fingers.

“Harder.”

Fingers shaking under the strain, she looked for all the world like she wanted to pop her nipple like a zit.

“Harder. With your nails.”

She moaned through her gag as she obediently dug her nails into her rapidly swelling nipple, closing her eyes. Her other hand never stopped swiping up and down his dick, and Brad felt it throb harder as he watched the beautiful redhead abuse herself.

“Fuck you’re a hot cunt,” he grunted, Biff’s presence now forgotten. “Come up here and ride me.”

Kyra scrambled up and straddled Brad’s lap. He could hear the loud sucking noises from the other side of the room, as Biff pushed his own hips up and thrust into Jennie’s eager mouth. Sounds of gurgling and gagging resounded regularly, emphasizing that Biff was not going easy on the girl, who never let up on her rhythm.

Brad was brought back to his own situation when he felt Kyra slowly sink herself down on his hard shaft. She was so wet that he encountered almost no resistance going in—it was like sliding into molten butter. He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her further down against him, making her groan. “Fuck!” he growled, “you’re juicier than a whore when the army comes to town! You couldn’t wait to feel my big dick inside you, didn’t you? You’re such a dirty filthy cunt!”

She shivered, and Brad remembered how she craved insults and being told how low she was when she was triggered. It looked like she loved it now as well, though her reaction was more subdued.

“Pinch your little whore nips again, cunt! That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Abusing your own body for men’s pleasure while they use you like a rag? Is that what you are? A rag? A spunk rag? Just a bunch of holes begging to be ripped open?”

Kyra was kneading her breasts, her fingers pinching her nipples as ordered. She pumped up and down on Brad’s dick, a thin layer of sweat forming on her skin from her exertions.

Brad could feel her pussy clench around him, massaging him. His hands ran up and down her sides, pressing down on her hips whenever she bottomed out onto his lap, once in a while circling around to palm her round buttocks. He swiped two fingers along the crack of her ass, tickling her nether hole. He smiled.

“Look at me, you little cunt! When I get tired of pounding you like this, I’m gonna shove my big dick deep in that ass of yours and fuck you so hard you’ll need diapers.”

Kyra’s breathing was ragged, as she stared at him with wide eyes into which fear and craving flickered back and forth rapidly. She slammed herself down onto his shaft with accrued force, still squeezing her breasts.

Brad slipped a finger into her ass, enjoying the way it gripped him and seemed to pull him inside. “Then I’m gonna ram my dick down your throat, and let you lick it clean. You like that, you little cunt? You like the thought of being a toilet whore? I think I’ll get you to lick my ass clean, too. Get you to dig your tongue inside as far as it’ll go, you little cunt! You little dick-sucking, ass-licking, shit-eating little cunt!”

Brad pulled one of Kyra’s hands away from her breast and leaned over to grab the hardened abused nipple between his lips and bit on it, hard, making Kyra gasp hard through the gag. She slammed down onto his shaft one last time before stiffening at once, and her whole body seized up before starting to shake as she came so hard he thought his dick would be choked off in the process. And when her pussy started convulsing like crazy it milked his shaft so forcefully that he could not help thrust once, twice, three times into her before exploding himself.

She collapsed against him, panting with difficulty, flushed, satisfied, while he struggled to regain his balance. He distractedly noted that Biff on the other side of the room seemed to be coming himself, unleashing a groan mixed with an obscenity while Jennie gagged loudly. Brad did not bother looking, keeping his eyes closed.

When he opened them he saw Jennie standing next to him. Her eyes were red, and her makeup had run under the facial assault she had undoubtedly received. Her lips looked swollen. Still, she had a smile on her face as she winked at him before pulling back Kyra’s head. Jennie took off Kyra’s ball gag and forced the redhead to arch her back before kissing her hard. Brad saw the thick spunk Jennie had been holding in her mouth dribble down into Kyra’s, compelling the exhausted redhead to swallow Biff’s spent, and he felt her pussy clench up as she shivered.

“Do you want the little cunt?” Biff’s voice rang loud in the suddenly silent farmhouse. “She’s yours. If you help me. A submissive little cunt, to do your bidding. Whether she’s triggered or not. Best of both worlds. It’s a good deal. And when I’m head of the frat, we’ll get you your little sociology teacher, too. Maybe even get her fixed like my little fuck doll here. Obedient and always triggered.”

“You... you can do that?” Jennie had let Kyra go, and the redhead had cuddled up against him, her breasts pressing into his chest, her ass straddling his groin.

“Of course. Nothing’s too good for my vice-president.” Biff cleared his throat. “By the way—Meant to ask earlier, but where’s Bernie? I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for the last week, but no luck.”

“Nobody’s seen him for the last couple of months.”

“Mmm... Kevin sent him packing too?”

“I guess. But no one knows anything. His father called a few times, too. Freaky.”

“Mmm...” was all the response Biff gave. “Well, guess I’ll have to ask my dear cousin when I see him, then. No matter. So, what do you say?”

Brad looked at Kyra, who during their conversation had slid down between his legs to gently caress his shaft with her hands, her cheeks, her whole face, rubbing against it as if she were a cat craving attention, never looking up at him. Now that she did not have her ball gag anymore, her mouth was free, and she took took advantage of it to suck him deep, cleaning his shaft of her own juices. He knew she would do anything he asked, even though she was not triggered. She would choke herself for him. Over and over again. Whenever he wanted. He could practically own her. He could own her.

Brad looked up at Biff. “What do you need me to do?”