The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Wyatt stepped off the bus, tugging a duffel bag over one shoulder and wrestling with his suitcase. In the hand that steadied the strap of his bag he also gripped a well-worn scrap of paper, with an address visible in amateurish pencil.

“Gee, I wasn’t expecting the city to be so big.”

The last thing you expected as a farm boy from Ellendale, Alabama, population 4,800 including the hound dogs, was to open a letter with a full-ride scholarship to a big-city college. Apparently, though, one of Chuttenhaw University’s alumni had been an Ellendale native, and the old man made it big. Big enough to send the occasional Ellendale boy off to Chuttenhaw, all the way over in Bellport, Massachusetts.

A proud ma and pa had seen him off at the bus stop, and a friend who had some of his own friends in the city had given him an address of some people who’d be looking for a roommate near Chuttenhaw. Of course, he hadn’t realised that finding the place would be that difficult.

Lost in thought, he turned around and bumped bodily into someone, who pinwheeled, trying to keep her balance. Wyatt dropped his bags, reaching out to help steady her.

“I am so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t see you there—”

He couldn’t help his eyes bugging as he gazed into a sea of breast big enough to get lost in. Her immense tits swayed back and forth in a straining tee shirt, the collar stretched to bursting point. She’d managed to tuck it in at one point, but the impact had made her tits heave the hem out of the top of her skirt.

She cradled them in her arms to stop the motion of the massive mounds. Her face flushed red, and she took several deep breaths.

“W-watch where you’re going!’

She didn’t move away, even after she’d regained her balance. She seemed to fight with herself for a minute, her eyes locking with Wyatt’s. He noted that her eyes were a deep, saturated purple, and her face was framed by a mass of twisted, wavy strands of buttercup yellow and candy red hair that reached to her knees. She groaned slightly, pushing around Wyatt, stumbling, and then hurrying off quickly. A lemony scent followed her.

They’d told him the city would be interesting, but not this interesting. He headed over to a nearby 7-11 in confusion, tugging his bags along.

He dispensed a slushie and grabbed a candy bar off the shelf, sliding them over to the bored-looking clerk along with the address slip. “’scuse me, sir, do y’all know where this address is?”

He nodded. “Not far from here. Couple blocks up, take a left, take the second right.”

“Thank you. Big change bein’ here in the city. People are very strange. Bumped into a lady out there, she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. Got all worked up, even after I said sorry, but looked like she didn’t want to go, neither.”

He chuckled. “You probably ran into an aphie, from the sounds of it. Too bad you didn’t ask for her number.”

“Aphie?”

The clerk raised an eyebrow. “This, uh, lady. She have big, uh—” he held his hands out in front of his chest, making a cupping motion. “You know. Really big?”

“Uh, yeah, but I’m not sure what—”

“Weird coloured hair?”

“Yeah, like, yellow and red. Sorry, I don’t—”

“You don’t have any aphies where you’re from?” The clerk looked half puzzled, half amused. “Looks like you’re going to be getting a real education here.”

Wyatt was more confused than ever. “Uh, I guess? I’m going to Chuttenhaw.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean... Aw, forget it. Young man like you’ll find out soon enough. Just, next time that happens, ask for her number, okay?”

Wyatt made his way to the sharehouse, still mulling over the cryptic conversation with the clerk. His directions were sound, at least, and Wyatt found himself at the entrance to a small rowhouse. He knocked, and extended a hand out as the door opened.

“Hi, I’m Wya—” he stopped, dumbfounded. An absolute goddess had just opened the door for him. She had full lips and thick blue eyelashes that crowned bright, golden eyes, surrounded by a thick, glossy crown of wavy, light-blue hair, shot through with darker blue streaks. It fell down far past her waist, which was visibly trim, a pair of yoga pants hugging the full, sensuous curve of her hips and thighs and starkly outlined against the most visible camel-toe he’d ever seen.

Of course, none of those were what made the words leave Wyatt’s throat entirely. That honour went to the gargantuan pair of boobs that jostled and sloshed in a thin, stretched-out tank top. Completely unsupported, they hung down as she leaned forward, so deep that Wyatt could almost see the entirety of at least one of her breasts thanks to the ruined collar of the tank.

He realised she was looking at him, and that he’d choked up and started staring. He immediately pulled his eyes back up to hers. “S-sorry, I’m Wyatt, ma’am. I’m, uh, here about the room?”

She stretched back up, her eyes sweeping up his body. The lowest curve of her breasts was level with her navel. Even without support, their fullness added a considerable circumference to her body, their mass below her ribcage. Nipples wider than his thumb outlined over an inch against the thin fabric of the top, and her breasts were full enough that their teardrop shape left her nipples pointing considerably forward, not practically towards the ground as you’d have expected for breasts that size. They were especially visible when she subtly thrust her chest out at the end of her stretch, with an accompanying jiggle from the mass of flesh on her chest.

“The room? Mm, it’s definitely available. Come on in, I’m Jennifer, call me Jen.”

She bit her plush lower lip lightly as Wyatt lugged his luggage through the door, her eyes following him all the way into the kitchen. She closed the door and followed him, her hips swinging back and forth with exaggerated motion, her tits sloshing from side to side, easily visible from behind.

“Sit down, Wyatt, take a load off.” Wyatt dropped his bags and obediently pulled out a chair. He was practically straining with the effort of not staring at Jennifer’s swaying rack or the roll of her hips and thighs. She giggled, flashing a smile of perfect, straight white teeth, and thrust out her boobs again.

Wyatt felt himself draw back in shock, slamming his eyes back above her décolletage. “Oh God, I’m so sorry—”

“No problem, honey.” She giggled again. “Anyway, about the room. A hundred and ten a week, utilities and cable. You’re not one of those super-religious types, are you?”

“Why?”

She snorted. “Haha, yeah, good one. Can’t think why, right?”

Wyatt’s blank look made her stop. She pointed to her chest and her hair. “Uh, hello? Do I really have to explain why I wouldn’t get along with some fundie?”

She leaned back in the chair, letting out a low whistle through her teeth. “You’re fucking with me, right? You can’t seriously not know.”

“No ma’am, no idea. Sorry.”

“Wow.” She almost looked amused, leaning forward again and resting her head on her hands. Wyatt couldn’t help but notice the motion squashing her massive breasts together. “That’s actually really cute. Kinda weird, but cute. I haven’t met someone who didn’t have any preconceptions about me in years.”

Wyatt blushed, shifting awkwardly in the chair. She was staring intently with those gorgeous yellow eyes, and she had a line of cleavage running down between her forearms. “What sort of preconceptions, ma’am?”

“Oh, uh,” she flushed a little. “Don’t worry about it for the moment. Anyway, the room’s yours, if you want to come and have a look.”

Wyatt did, but unfortunately he was a little hesitant to get up. Between the sultry purr in her voice, her gorgeous face and the milky display of cleavage in front of him, he was having a minor pants space emergency that he didn’t want to reveal to the world. On the other hand, unless Jennifer left the room, it wasn’t likely to get any better.

He rearranged himself as subtly as possible as they got up, turning to the side to hide the bulge in his jeans. Was she staring at my pants?

As he followed her upstairs, he caught a strong earthy smell wafting in her wake. “Sandalwood?”

“Wow, polite, handsome AND knows his scents. You’re a treasure.”

He blushed again. “Thank you, ma’am. My ma makes that sort of thing, perfume and incense and candles.”

“Ah. Well, mine’s kind of homemade too.”

Her ass swayed back and forth in front of his face as they climbed the stairs. Her pants were scandalously tight, and left absolutely no curve of her thick thighs or her massive ass to the imagination, and that scent filled his nostrils. His cock throbbed treacherously with each stair. His mouth went dry as he realised he could see the bounce of her breasts to either side of her waist, as well. God, she’s huge. Even bigger than Mrs. Gulliver.

Mrs. Gulliver had been a frequent object of schoolyard rumour, discussed in hushed voices by groups of furtive young men. Originally Mrs. Gulliver had just been Owen’s ma, a skinny, quiet woman who worked for the PTA and made muffins for the bake sale. One year, when Wyatt was about ten, she started coming to school in a headscarf, bundled up even in the heat. Didn’t have much time for the PTA any more either. Eventually she stopped going out in public at all.

One day Wyatt had to head over to their house to pick something up, and instead of Mr. Gulliver answering the door like was normal anymore, Mrs. Gulliver answered. The memories were hazy, but what Wyatt definitely remembered was one of her old house dresses stuffed to the brim with a huge pair of tits that definitely hadn’t been there two months ago. He also remembered a waft of cinnamon, the sight of pastel green hair, the blank, distracted look on her face and that had been it before Mr. Gulliver shouted from inside and she went wide-eyed, hurriedly darting back into the hall before he slammed the door in Wyatt’s face.

There’d been shouting. The next day, Mrs. Gulliver was gone. They said she’d gone to Birmingham, and weren’t coming back. They’d split up because she was tired of small town life. Other kids said they’d seen her too, and the stories generally corroborated. The question, of course, was why she left.

Jen got to the top of the stairs and opened up one of the doors. The room was reasonable, not too small, decently furnished.

“There’s one full bathroom up here and a half bath downstairs. A month upfront, and a five hundred dollar deposit. Sound okay?”

One bathroom might be a problem, but other than that, it all seemed good, and Jen seemed keen. “Looks right t’me. Okay, y’all got yourself a deal.”

While they were talking, one of the other doors opened, a head peeking around the jamb. She had a small, oval-shaped face with soft cheeks and deep-socketed eyes. Thick-rimmed black glasses perched on her nose, framed by hair a bizarre ombré, several inches of thick, bouncy pure white ending in mousey, bushy brown. “Jen, what are you doing?”

“Afternoon Siobhan. You’re looking good.”

“Who is that? I haven’t seen him before.” Her eyes were fixed on him.

“This is Wyatt. He’s our new roommate!”

She recoiled. “B-but you said you wouldn’t... We agreed—”

“No, you asked, I said I’d think about it. I thought about it, and decided no. Wyatt’s staying with us.”

Siobhan huffed, loosing her grip on the door and coming out from around it. She was short, probably not more than five-two, and sported her own pair of outsized breasts, although nowhere near the size of Jen’s. She was outrageously curvy, and between the too-small shirt trying to stretch over her breasts and a pair of white cotton panties that did almost nothing to cover the pale expanse of her massive ass, hips and thighs, projecting out harshly from a comparatively tiny waist, her entire body was on display. He couldn’t help but notice the front of those panties was dark with moisture.

“Jen, you know that I—”

“I know. You think it matters?”

“I...” Siobhan looked over at Wyatt, who was beginning to look concerned. Her gaze lingered on him again.

“Besides, it looks like you’ve forgotten something. Like, uh, pants.”

She looked down and yelped, ducking back behind the door. Wyatt turned to Jen as Siobhan’s door clicked shut. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to cause no fuss.”

She giggled. “Oh, don’t worry Wyatt, she’ll be fine. She’s just going through some stuff at the moment, and it’s taking a lot of getting used to for her. Let’s get you settled in.”

While Wyatt lugged his bags up to his new room, Jen knocked her way into Siobhan’s room. She smirked as Siobhan closed her laptop guiltily, pulling her hand away from her groin.

“Jen, I can’t believe you’d do this!”

“What do you mean? We needed a roommate.”

“You know what I mean!“

Jen sat down on the bed, beside her roommate. “Look, a friend of a friend referred him and vouched for him. It’s not my fault he has a strong jaw, broad shoulders, big farmboy muscles...”

Siobhan gasped. “Jen...”

“He could probably grab you by the ass cheeks and lift you up... Those soft lips on your nipples while his stubbly jaw rubs against the rest of your breast...”

Siobhan’s mouth hung open with a low moan, her hand returning between her legs. “Jen, stop...”

“His fat cock throbbing against your pussy as he grinds his muscular body against you...”

“Jen, fucking stop!” She threw her hands back to either side of her legs, face red and chest heaving, squeezing her thick thighs together.

“When are you going to stop pretending you can just ignore what’s happened to you? Seriously, you think you’re better than me? You think you’re special?”

Siobhan’s first impulse was to grab her breasts, to stop them bouncing as her chest heaved with lust, but she’d already learned from experience that her hands sinking into the pliant flesh only made things worse. She cursed not having put on her bra, as much as she wanted to act like she didn’t need the stupid thing.

“This... This isn’t who I am. I’m not like this...“

“You think the Aphrodite cares? You think it matters what sort of girl you were? This is your life now, and avoiding being around men isn’t going to change that. That’s why if I pulled up your laptop there’d be more than schoolwork. That’s why you forgot to put on pants when you heard a guy’s voice in the hall. How’d you sleep last night? No interesting dreams? I mean, you’re so special, you wouldn’t get the dreams, would you?”

Siobhan’s protestations fell silent, her eyes lidded and her cheeks flushed. Jen continued on. “We all tried to fight it. Every single one of us thought it didn’t have to be that way for us—that we could beat it. You think I just shrugged my shoulders and went “well, guess I’m a slut now?” The sooner you get over yourself and accept what’s happening, the easier it’ll be.“

Siobhan looked close to tears. Jen sat down next to her, patting her on the back. “Seriously, you can have fun with this. It’s not a death sentence. It’s just kind of a new hobby. A, um, permanent hobby that you can’t ever stop doing ever again.”

Jen got up, stretching. The act of thrusting out her chest seemed almost subconscious. “Oh hey, interesting fact. Wyatt doesn’t know about us.”

“Doesn’t know what about us?” Siobhan was fidgeting, looking furtively at her laptop.

“About us. About Aphrodite. He thinks I’m just a girl with big tits, coloured hair and sandalwood perfume. He apologises for looking at my boobs. It’s adorable.“

“Wow, what are you going to do?”

Jen pursed her lips. “I kind of don’t want to tell him. I’m enjoying him not knowing about me.”

“Weren’t you the one who was going on about needing to accept that I’m going to turn into an insatiable whore and guys are just meat to me now? Why are you acting like he’s a person?”

“Stop being such a drama queen, that’s not what anybody said. Anyway, I’m going to go help Wyatt. Enjoy your porn.”

Jen wandered back into Wyatt’s room, and gasped, her mouth going dry. Wyatt had stripped down to a tight white undershirt as he put his things away. He wasn’t a cut gym rat, but he had a wholesome muscularity and a farmer’s tan which set off against his short-cropped blond hair and the stubble of his travel. Wyatt turned around, catching a glance of Jen biting her lip with wide, hungry eyes.

“Jen, you okay?”

Christ, he’s hot. Okay Jen, calm down, wait until he’s at least signed the lease.

She took a deep breath, and smiled glassily. “I’m ffiiiiine.” She walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. She could feel that her outsized nipples were pressing hard against her thin tee, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She squirmed a little when he turned back to the closet, letting her draw her eyes up and down the muscles in his back and his ass. She drew another rattling breath.

“So, Wyatt. Tell me something about yourself.” Like, how big is your cock?

“Well, my parents own a farm outside Ellendale. I’ve got two brothers and two sisters. I’m gonna be doing engineering at Chuttenhaw.”

Jen slipped a hand up underneath her top while Wyatt wasn’t looking, her fingers rubbing softly over one of her enormous nipples, pinching and tweaking it. Her eyelids fluttered. “Y-you have a girlfriend?”

“Naw. Had one, ’fore I got the letter for here. Trouble was she’s goin’ to California. We decided it just weren’t worth it.”

“Well that’s a shame.” Her left hand had moved down to her crotch, rubbing lightly through her yoga pants. They were absolutely saturated. She saw him start to turn back around and quickly pulled her hands away, her tits jiggling with the motion and drawing out a muffled yelp. Wyatt caught the smell of sandalwood again, even stronger than before.

“Well, I’m goin’ to have to go get some cash out, might buy some groceries while I’m out. Y’all need anythin’?”

Yes, I really do. “N-no, I’m fine. I’m gonna, um, head back to my room, so you, uh, just head out and knock when you’re back and we’ll sort out the paperwork.“

Jen burst back into her room after Wyatt left. Her knees were knocking together, her breathing sharp and harsh. One hand was down her pants, rubbing desperate circles around her absurdly-sized clit, the other was sinking into her left breast, squeezing hard. She was lucky she’d learned what self-control she had—two years ago, he’d have turned around and seen her brazenly masturbating, lost in her own lust.

She threw herself down on the bed, azure tresses fanning out around her, reaching across to her bedside table and pulling out her Hitachi, which had a permanent place plugged into the powerboard. She was realising grimly that this was a mistake. She’d been in this state many times before. At best, her magic wand could work to bleed off the urge when it started creeping up on her, taking the edge off for an hour or two and at least giving her space to think. When she was like this, she might as well have been spraying a water pistol at a bonfire.

Not for the first time, she lamented whatever twist of fate had led her to be lumbered with this curse. It wasn’t to say that it was all bad, but three years of your body being little more than an absurdly-altered vehicle for endlessly attempting to satisfy a gnawing, unnatural desire left you feeling good and ready to have your real life back.

Why me? Why my body? She didn’t even bother pulling down her pants, spreading her legs apart and applying the buzzing head of her vibrator directly to her massive, throbbing clitoris through her pants, drawing out a whole-body shudder, a flood of juices and combination between a gasp and a moan. She grabbed and pinched her fat nipple, squealing at the rush of sensation. It was beyond belief that breasts so large could also be so unbearably sensitive, but so many things about her condition were beyond belief.

The first orgasm hit her within minutes, her pussy clenching and fluttering, injecting a brief flood of pleasure into her body that made her squeal but, horribly, not even dulling her arousal. Ten of those could maybe help extend the time she needed before the familiar feeling, the need for a man, became too much to bear. This was far beyond even that relative comfort.

Another couple of orgasms came and went, but she was so overwrought that it all it did was make her crave more. That was when Siobhan entered the room, raising her voice over the buzzing.

“I grabbed your phone and texted Nathan. He’ll be over in ten minutes.”

Jen managed to squeak a thank you between the moans and gasps. She noticed through the haze that Siobhan’s hand had crept idly down between her legs, a flush rising in her cheeks.

“I, uh, should go. I’ll let Nathan in when he gets here.”

She left the room as Jen started to squeal over her fourth profoundly unsatisfying orgasm.