The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I looked, gradually seeing what she meant, a wisp of lavender seemed to mix with the moving smoke. That wisp, or tendril, began to spin within it, though not seeming to diffuse into it. It actually looked like thick, purple thread caught in a gentle whirlwind.

“That’s it, you two. Continue to simply remember your past, to let your memories glide through your minds and then out into the crystal ball. As light as that filament is, I think it must be Karen’s connection, as the more volatile the personality, the darker the strand.”

Even as Madame Olshavsky was saying that, I could see a new thread appear. I could tell it was separate from the first one, and it was a darker shade of violet than mine.

Than mine? I found myself slightly startled to feel myself buying into this whole thing. Still, it was rather exciting and intriguing, just as Rachel had said. That, and watching the shining purple threads growing and swirling in the smoky crystal was just such a pretty thing to see.

“That’s yours, Rachel,” Madame said. “Again, you two are doing perfectly, and making such a strong connection to the ball. All you must do is continue. Don’t try to dredge up specific memories now, though. The ball is seeking what it needs to find, and your connection to it will allow it to do that. No, let your mind and thoughts drift and remember anything at all of your past, of your days at school, of your childhood....”

It was becoming increasing difficult to tell if our purple filaments were made out of some sort of substance or whether they were somehow just made out of light. But light can’t curve and twist and spin like that, can it? Whatever the case, I’d never seen anything like it.

“Let my glowing crystal ball pull out your thoughts and memories and create the soft, purple threads you can see swirling and shifting inside it; the threads that represent your life and feelings, the memories of your good times and bad, all being gently extracted from your minds so I will be able to read your futures from them. No reason to concentrate so hard now, either, as each of you becomes more deeply and easily connected with my beautiful, shiny, crystal ball, and so happy to let it draw your thoughts away, as the past is the future and the future the past....”

I found that I was feeling kinda happy... happy that the crystal ball was so pretty and pleasant to watch; happy that everything seemed so quiet and calm except for the soft sounds of the bouzouki and the soft fog of incense that seemed to fill the tent; happy that Madame Olshavsky was speaking so quietly and nicely to us, her words slowly becoming just a warm buzz in my ears.

In fact, that warm buzz of her voice seemed to be coming from between Rachel and me now, and no longer from the other side of the table. Small difference, though, as my concentration remained on the crystal ball, watching my lavender thread grow and dance with Rachel’s as I fed it more of my memories... of me coming in second for Prom Queen at the Junior Prom, of losing control of my tricycle and rolling down the driveway into the back of the family car....

Yes, the glowing ball wanted my thoughts, so I was letting it take them, just as Madame Olshavsky wanted me to.

“You’re doing so wonderfully well, Karen and Rachel, letting everything in your minds sink and swirl away into the smoke, into the threads in my crystal ball. Let yourselves sink and swirl with them now, deeper and deeper, loving how good it feels to just let everything go away but the soft purple threads and the sound of my voice....”

And I did again, connecting with my tendril, letting myself spin and twist in the warm, gentle whirlwind of smoke, too. I was barely conscious of what Madame was saying anymore, but still somehow managed to respond whenever she asked me a question. I was happy when I vaguely heard Rachel doing the same, as we certainly needed to be good, polite, obedient girls, didn’t we?

I lost track of how long we sat there, watching and listening, only knowing I was feeling very happy that my mind was so empty of everything right now, so open and squeezably soft, too... just like Madame Olshavsky was saying. I felt so very good, even though I could barely sense my own body, almost as if my head were simply floating lazily above my chair, suspended in space and time.

“... and now that your minds are so wonderfully, and happily, empty, it’s time for me to pour your future into them. It’s time for me to fill you with thoughts of exactly what you’re going to do, and exactly what you’re going to feel, from now on. And isn’t that exactly what both of you want me to do?”

“Yes, Madame Olshavsky,” Rachel and I replied in unison.

“Very good, my dears. It’s so easy for you to simply listen and obey now.

“So then, the first part of your future is one you can see for yourselves, right there in my crystal ball. Do you both notice the way your two threads are wrapping around each other, so very close together, so very entwined?”

“Yes, Madame Olshavsky.”

“The meaning of that is so clear to me, and must certainly be clear to you. You like and enjoy each other so very much already; but now you can see and feel your attraction, your desire to be with each other, growing even more. This attraction is becoming a visceral thing, perhaps even a sexual thing, the idea of your bodies wrapping around each other, clinging to each other like your two threads, quickly becoming something you want to happen, that you can actually feel beginning to happen, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Madame Olshavsky,” we both answered again, after only the slightest hesitation. I know the way our threads were entangled in the crystal ball reminded me of two snakes having sex, and the thought of that was starting to create some rather insistent tingles between my thighs. I knew I’d always liked Rachel, ever since I’d met her, and certainly found her friendly, fun, and attractive....

“You can almost feel yourself writhing against each other even now, happily trapped in my crystal ball and clutching your friend’s body so tightly, moaning as you let your warm, soft flesh melt together in lust and passion. Feel that future filling your empty minds now, beginning to want it so very badly, the idea of having sex with your friend becoming so real to you, so certain. You can see it, and feel it... such a deep, hot desire for each other, such an incredible longing....”

I think I moaned aloud then, actually seeing in my mind what Madame had talked about, and was continuing to talk about. Rather clearly, I could see a naked, sexually glowing Rachel walking toward me, getting closer and closer until we could finally envelop each other in our arms. Almost instantly then, we were kissing wildly and beginning to gasp and writhe, the warm, erotic feel of her flesh making me gasp in need....

The urge to look over at Rachel was becoming unbearable, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the shining ball. I was getting so aroused now, the tingles turning to wetness, my breasts and body beginning to demand their own attentions. Seeing Rachel’s thread, and mine, continuing to undulate and twist around each other so completely and sensually was wonderful... but even watching them wasn’t enough anymore.

I had to look at Rachel. She was so attractive... something I think I’d always known somehow, and just another thing our attractive gyspy fortune teller was right about.

And I wanted Rachel so bad.

As if hearing my mental plea, and somehow totally understanding what I was going through, Madame Olshavsky said, “Stop looking at my crystal ball now and turn your chairs so you can look at each other.”

As quick as I was to obey her command, Rachel was even faster, already sitting there staring at me by the time I’d gripped the armrests of my heavy chair and swung it around. Her eyes were wide and she was literally panting. I was glad to see that, as I know I was, too... gasping with arousal, and from moving my chair, and now just from staring back at her.

From staring back at her face and hair, at her lips and neck, and at Rachel’s breasts and knees and everything in between.

The more I stared, however, the more I realized just how sexually seductive my best friend was.

“You both feel so aroused for each other, don’t you?”

“Yess, Madame Olshavsky,” we both answered, without a trace of hesitation or embarrassment this time.

“It’s time to prove it to each other then. Stand!”

We did.

“Slide your panties off onto the floor.”

We both did, doing it by feel, never taking our eyes off each other.

“Hike your skirts up to your waist and then sit back down in your chairs.”

Again, we both did, as obeying Madame Olshavsky seemed like the most natural, automatic thing in the world now. She was just so smart, and her knowledge of our future was just so obviously clear and certain.

Besides, she seemed to know exactly what our bodies wanted and needed, and letting her direct us meant we didn’t even have to think. No, we simply needed to watch and feel.

“Now, show your friend how much she turns you on, how hot you think she is. Start masturbating yourself, and watch as your partner masturbates while thinking about you.”

This time I beat Rachel to the punch, the fingers of my right hand moving to slide over my labia and clit almost instantly. She managed the first moan, but that was only because I was almost biting off my lower lip. I worked my pussy as I watched her working hers, rubbing and teasing herself before slipping a finger inside. She looked so wet, and I knew I certainly was, as my finger slid deeply inside me with almost no resistance at all.

So I added a second one, and ground my clit with my thumb, then the heel of my hand, my gasps and moans easily matching Rachel’s now.

Then Madame was beside me, whispering in my ear. “Look at her breasts, too, Karen. Imagine them sliding all over your mouth and face, so soft and warm.”

I did. I could almost feel that, a new shudder of arousal pulsing through me, beginning to work my pussy even harder, faster. I saw Madame move over to Rachel, whispering to her too, watching my friend’s eyes grow wider, the motion of her hand between her thighs becoming increasingly frenzied.

Everything around me... the sights, the sounds, the smells... were becoming a turn-on for me, feeding back on themselves, the urge to cum becoming more and more undeniable. It was easy to see that Rachel was feeling the same way, both of us with our legs over the armrests of our chairs now, looking so lost and open as we frigged our begging cunts for all they were worth.

I was stunned, then, when Madame Olshavsky called out, “Stop!”

For the first time since we’d met her, I almost disobeyed, my need so great, the feel of my hand and fingers working my pussy so delicious, so ridiculously hot. But I did stop, and so did Rachel, both of us turning to look at her.

She was standing there smiling, and telling us, “Excellent... you two are such a joy to teach and train. I know it was difficult to stop... yes... but I’ll show you why you must always obey Madame Olshavsky, why there is so much pleasure and fulfillment in obeying me.

“You see, the first time you cum for each other, you need to be together, and touching each other. Am I right?”

“Yes, Madame Olshavsky,” both of us gasped.

Shuddering deep inside, I felt foolish for almost disobeying her. Of course she was right. She was the teacher and we were the students, after all, and of course she only had our sexual pleasure at heart. Everything was, and always would be, just as she’d said. “So, you will stand, move closer to me, and sit down on the floor facing each other.”

We did, though it wasn’t easy, as my legs felt like jello. It was a relief to finally sit down on the rug as told.

“Now scootch closer together, your skirts still up to your waists. Interlock your legs, placing one on the top, and the other one under, your partner’s legs.”

Oh, god.

We both knew what she intended now, and, staring at each other again, we eagerly slid into position. Rachel and I moved closer and closer, shifting and adjusting our legs until our wet, needy pussies finally met in the middle.

She gasped, and I almost wanted to cry, it felt so wonderful.

“Yes! I see you understand. Now do what you have to do, what you want to do so very badly, my very good girls.”

We did.

Oh boy, did we “did”.

There were no more instructions needed as we bumped and ground our pussies together, over and over. Pushing our hands against the floor, we lifted our hips and asses, working them hard, anything to keep the other’s soft, wet flesh pressed and sliding over our own. I think I yelled aloud the first time our clits touched, but my mind was such a fog of lust that I barely knew what I was doing. Rachel kept gasping, “Oh, Karen!” over and over, and her obvious desire for me was an incredible turn-on, too.

I had reached the point where it was either “cum or explode” when Madame Olshavsky told us, her own voice hot and breathy, “Hold... don’t cum yet, either of you. Let the pressure build, and submit to it totally. That way, when you do cum, it will be something beyond memorable.”

So help me god, I did try to hold, utterly submitting to both Madame and the pleasure she was creating between us. Rachel did, too, and our sexual wrestling match continued until everything became a blur of relentless arousal and need, our moans and the wet slap and slide of our pussies the only thing I could hear.

And then, Madame Olshavsky was reaching out, taking one of our breasts in each hand, massaging and squeezing them and telling us to, “Cum now!”

Had there ever been an easier command to obey?

We did, raising our hips high, our pussies seeming to kiss and suck at each other’s, and starting to cum for her. We spasmed wildly, never losing contact, snapping, shuddering, and shrieking. Just before, it had been ‘cum or explode’, and now I seemed to be doing both, massive jolts of pleasure radiating from my loins and all throughout my body as I came and came.

I felt Rachel matching me... surge for surge, creamy gush for creamy gush, and that only made everything feel even better, more perfect and complete.

It was all so wonderful, and mind-blowing, and it took us a very long time to come down.

When we finally did, Rachel and I were more lost than ever, simply floating inside our very brave, new, and erotic world. Thus, when Madame Olshavsky told us we needed more practice... and with someone else... before we became a true, sexual couple, we were both more than ready to agree.

We were so dreamily happy that when she suggested herself, we even thanked Madame for letting us practice on her.

I took “low” to begin with, while Rachel took “high”, and I must admit being grateful for that. I mean, Madame Olshavsky’s had whispered to me that her pussy would smell and taste so erotic and good, and she was totally correct. The scent of her arousal was almost more than I could stand, and her juices filled me with a deep, demanding hunger as I licked and lapped at her wet sex, oblivious to everything else in the world.

Clutching at her hips and ass, almost smothering in her wet, perfect folds, time disappeared, and I didn’t much care if it returned or not. Eating Madame Olshavsky was just that good to me.

Still, when she ordered us to switch, her voice almost as thick and husky as ours, I had to admit that having my face pressed tightly to her heavy, soft breasts, and licking and sucking on her thick, dark nipples, was just about the hottest thing I could ever imagine, too.

I also knew all this was something I desperately wanted to experience with Rachel very soon.

Despite that, however, I have to say I was jealous of Rachel when Madame finally came, humping and oozing her precious cum all over my lucky friend’s tongue, lips, and face.

After that, everything became a blur of obedience and sexual pleasure, as simply doing what our teacher said, without question, was by far the easiest and fairest thing to do.

So, when she let us know we’d finished, it made perfect sense to thank Madame for all she’d done for us. That, and how totally logical it was that Rachel and I head for the small, side bathroom to clean up before we went back outside.

And, gahh... it was certainly fair, given all the marvelous things she’d shown and taught us about our futures, to give Madame Olshavsky our credit cards when we returned to her, knowing that any payment she desired was well worth it for the two of us.

Certain it was time to leave, it felt good, then, to stand before her and listen to her final instructions.

“I want you to go now, Rachel and Karen. You’ll leave my tent the same way you entered, exit the funhouse, and remember nothing of what happened here. Nothing, that is, except the growing sexual feelings you have for each other. Those feelings will be small at first, but very real, and will slowly increase as the days and weeks go by. They will remain and strengthen until you finally see your credit card bills.

“It is only then, when you see my $250 charge on each of your cards, that you will remember everything you did and felt here tonight. Those memories will completely envelop you, will arouse you, and you will know for certain that it was money well spent. Do you understand and accept what I’m telling you?”

“Yes, Madame Olshavsky,” Rachel and I said in unison, and for the last time.

“Very good then, my sexy, happy thralls. Leave the funhouse now. May your future be blessed, and may you remember me fondly all the days of your lives.”

We did as she’d instructed then, moving through the beads and waiting for the wall to open. When it did, we marched straight ahead, out of the funhouse, and down the stairs. Laughing and smiling, we walked back into the lights, sounds, and smells of the fair.

“That was goofy, a bit scary, but fun,” Rachel told me.

“Agreed. So, what do you want to do now?”

“Well, I could certainly stand a bit more to eat,” she told me.

I blushed at her words, completely uncertain as to why, but agreed with her again. I was very hungry, and felt a bit dehydrated, too.

So, we walked off and got ourselves some sodas, and a really tasty funnel cake, and sat there together, eating and drinking. In a moment of silliness, we actually fed each other a bit of the sweet dough, chewing and savoring the texture and taste of it. Otherwise, neither of us said much of anything, just chewing, swallowing, and staring at each other. When we finished, we walked around a bit more, knowing it was just about time to leave.

As we headed off to my car, we walked past a stand where they were playing music. It was, for lack of a better word, hillbilly music... a slow song about love and life and commitment. The singer, who was playing a washboard, must’ve been in his 70’s, yet still looked to be the youngest of the seven men and woman on the small stage.

We stopped and watched, drawn to the simple purity of the music. As he sang, all sorts of feelings tugged at my heart... warm feelings about country, and people, and friendship.

Listening, and without even knowing I’d done it, I found myself clutching Rachel’s hand. She was returning my grip, and for some reason, I couldn’t have been happier.

That’s how we walked out through the parking lot, too... hand-in-hand.

We couldn’t be bothered by what anyone else might think, either, as it felt so good, and it felt so right. And as we approached my car, all I could think was, ‘God, I’m glad we came to the fair tonight!’