The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

September 8th, 2007

I hadn’t seen Sam that much lately – she seemed to be having troubles, but not the least about me. We spoke, and were fine, and though she had tried to, couldn’t get past the fact that yes, we had had sex, and yes that she had done so of her own accord. What she accepted more or less without question was the fact that Kim could slide through a wall or a bed without so much as a magician’s wand, or the idea that I could control her just as easily with a few choice words.

Her troubles stemmed for the same pool as mine did – the actual classes themselves. Sam was coming off of working Full-Time for 3 years, not having finished high school until just last year with her GED. I had finished with a high average, but only because I had persuaded almost all of the teachers to give them to me. I had wanted to do this the hard way; I really had no idea how hard it actually was, after not having to do it for just over 4 years.

Take Monday for example – it was a long hard day, one that would live in infamy until another worse day came along. We had singing class in the morning, then a half hour afterwards for lunch, then acting and dancing for 4 hours. And after that, we had to gather for a project at the end of the day. I was done by 4:30, but the other people in my group were all done at 6:00, so I had to wait an hour for them to show up, and then talk for 5 minutes, go back to residence and sit in my room, work for about 10 minutes and then sit there with nothing to do for the rest of the night.

After singing class, and getting our first song of the year, something called ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business’ from some show I had never even heard of, we were put into groups, and told to have a meeting after class for the lunch time we were provided. That was fine for the rest of my group, because they all had an hour for a meeting; I had 10 minutes to eat and meet and talk, leaving 20 to get there and back to class.

Acting was a bit stranger, as we all had to do some deep breathing and we were told to lie down on the cold dirty wood floor, while the teacher re-arranged our bodies until we were lying stiff as a board, and muttering lines to ourselves from a sonnet. It was stupid, it really was; the teacher thought that it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. (Sliced bread had been invented the previous winter. That was a good Simpsons episode.) Anyway, after lying on the ground for a good hour, he told us while sitting near most of the more well-endowed girls to sit up, stretch, and talk about what we learned. I hadn’t learned anything, except that this wasn’t for me. ‘Method Acting’, as it is apparently called, is all about getting to know your character before you learn the lines, and then portray the character, not with the lines and actions, but with the underlying feelings and thoughts of the character. All well and good, but I prefer to do things my way – learn the lines, then the character, and then fuse the two together.

After a hurried rush out the door, we were told to memorize a scene, or a song, or something for next class, where we would all have a chance to say our whatever. It was an okay assignment: I knew what I was going to do already. We raced to dance class, where the evil witch who ran the place told us that along with the ten minutes to get to her class on the other side of the campus, we had to change and whatnot, and report to her on time. No lates in this class. Then we did yoga, and some stretches, and I got my first real taste of ballet. I hate it. Really. There is nothing sexual or flowing about ballet, it’s all point your feet like this, and reach down like this, and move your legs this way, and turn them so your muscles scream in protest. She even told us that after a month if we hadn’t learned the proper way of dealing with the movements she would strike our legs with a yard stick. My imagination would run overtime whenever she said something like that, and I could picture all of the fun things I could make her do if she ever did that to me.

And then, tired, sweating, sore and feeling glad to be out of there, I would have to wait for an hour and a half for the other group members to finish their classes, and then another 10 minutes until they arrived at our designated spots. When we were all finally gathered, we debated about whether the font should be Times New Roman or Calibri. Why, you ask? Because I had missed all the important things. I could only glean information from my group, who saw me as something as an oddity and not worth knowing. Well, that was just fine with me. I did find that we were doing a ‘Music Through the Ages’ thing, and they needed me to research about music, musical theatre shows, fashion and people in the 1950’s. More specifically, they needed me to research things for 1957, exactly 50 years ago. We were doing them in 10 year increments, and I was to do all the old things, starting from 1957 and working up to 2007.

They weren’t bad people; just people I wouldn’t have wanted to work with in general. We had me, the outcast; Chris, the cool guy; Tamara and Stephanie, sisters and beautiful in their own minds (they looked like someone had just run them over with a makeup truck – all the time); and Emily, who would become the resident class clown. And then there was Melissa – she was the prom queen, the diva, the princess. She was one of those girls who thought that because she looked good in high school, she would be treated with love and respect all her life, and men would trip over themselves to do it for them.

So anyway, after getting my assignment, and heading back to my dorm immediately, I was beset about how to present this. Should we use bristle board? Or what about a slide show? Or something more dramatic? Ah well, not for me to decide – I’d let the others worry about that. I had enough to worry about with Sam next door to me, and Kim dropping in practically every day, and not just to see me. I had woken up one night from a sex coma to hear whispered mutterings in Isaac’s room. Maybe she was playing him, or the other way around. I could see the signs – he was exactly like me, if I hadn’t grown up and stayed in my house and just been a normally boring person in general.

So, after finally sitting down after dancing, speaking, and waiting, I just sat there, reflecting on the day. I wrote in my journal about how this day was different and stuff, and all the crap that they would want to see. But for that particular journal entry, you’d have to read it yourself. Not putting it in here, sorry.

Kim dropped by about 8-ish, and brought a flyer about the on-campus bar that was having a freshman only bar night this weekend, with semi-free drinks and promised loud music, dancing and prizes for different things. I thought about chugging booze or something, but that probably didn’t fly with people in college. So, it was probably something like a tequila shooting contest, or a beer pouring contest, or something stupid like that. After putting the flyer on my door, and giving me a leg and back rub, she suggested that we take a walk around the campus. I agreed, and on stiff legs and a sore lower back, we traversed slowly around the area. I showed her where everything was, and how I got from class to class. She seemed like she was enjoying herself, but she made the nudge towards my room a few more times than was usual. I guessed that she and Isaac had had something planned for tonight. I wasn’t very far wrong.

After tucking me in for the night, kissing me on the cheek and promising me that she would be here tomorrow, she disappeared through the wall into Isaac’s room. I was caught in a daze: not from the fact that she phased through the walls, but that Isaac didn’t even make a sound about it. In fact, I just heard the bed springs squeak a bit, and then a low thumping noise. That was probably the worst and longest night that I had ever had – my day was rough, my girlfriend with my roommate having sex, and I was alone in a strange place where no one even knew my name.

That being the longest night of the very new school year, I was resorted to reading before sleeping. And the only things that I had that weren’t actual fiction novels that I had read a dozen times before were my old journals. I picked a small box at random, and pulled out the first journal I had ever written. It was from grade 9, the year before I had moved to Burlington. I started to read, right at page 1.

September 10th, 2003

Started school today. Not much happening. Already everyone is treating me like a leper. Not really surprising, considering I had just pushed the biggest guy I had seen into a wall, and then when he raised a fist at me, convinced him that his fist was actually strangling a snake. He ran from his fist, which was funny to watch. This power I’ve been given is so much fun, I can do whatever I want with absolutely no repercussions!

If only that were true to this day. I still had the occasional nightmare about the cops coming to the school, pointing to me in front of the class, telling everyone that I had them under some sort of spell, and them all believing what the cops said. That one dream kept me from trying my power out on some of the hotter girls on the campus. I kept reading, skipping a few pages. A small drawing caught my eye, of a stick figure with no head screaming about how it was blown up. I laughed when I saw it, and remembered the day even before I read the passage.

September 23rd, 2003

In art today, drew this and got kicked out of class. I don’t know why; the teacher just told me to leave the class and take this to the principal’s office. It’s almost like I’m back in elementary school. I guess that I’ll leave and go home. No one will really miss me anyway.

The narration skipped forward to when I’m at home.

Well, I’m home now, guess I’ll just take a nap or something. I can’t believe this though. I mean, there I am, doing art class, and the teacher tells me to leave. Oh, will she get fired for this! I guess that she could be on her bad time of the month or something, but why should I get kicked out of class for this drawing? I drew it above here in full colour too. I just overheard someone say something about an exploding head, and drew it. I mean, fuck, can people get more anal than that? Oh, and the school called here. I guess that this power works over long distance too, and no one at the office will even notice if I stay at home for the next few days. I’m gonna get that bitch back for this!

Oh, man. This was too much. I stifled my laughter into a pillow, and found the fourth or fifth journal down, the one where I first met Heather. I forgot all about Kim in the next room, about how lonely I felt, just pure laughter filling me at the thought that I at one time thought that this power could lead me down a better road. It did in a way, but seriously, when did it all go wrong?

She was a cute girl, smallish and kind of rounded out a bit more than other girls, but there was a definite attractiveness to her. That and she did have a large DD rack. That helped in winning me over to get her. I really didn’t know much in the way of relationships, though I had read erotic stories and masturbated enough to know what felt and sounded good. I didn’t know how to handle a real relationship, but if things got too bad, then I knew that I could either move it along to bigger and better places, or end it quickly without any pain to either of us.

Oh man, was I head over heels for her too. I mean, she was, is and probably will be my only girlfriend, and we’ve kept the relationship going for almost 4 years now. That had to be good right? I kept reading, going down to the dance, and then remembering the night. The memory was better than the actual writing anyway. I remember vividly talking to the girls, and the guys, and thinking about how we would ‘always’ be together, when really, it was only me and the girls after about 2 months. I had expanded my friendships to older girls, and especially to Kim. Thinking of Kim next door wasn’t even too hard anymore. I was actually kind of glad for her, because she found someone like me that she was interested in. I couldn’t hear any movement on Isaac’s bed, but that didn’t mean anything. Still, good for her.

I glanced and skimmed, surprised about how much I wrote, and how much different I must look now as opposed to then. I remember buying those stupid weight loss tapes, how they didn’t do anything, and then trying unsuccessfully to go to the gyms, and the diets, and all the other crap. I went back to the top of the page, and re-read the last sentence of my first meeting with Heather. All about how I could move it along to bigger and better things or end it quickly. Was I really that sure at the time that I could tell Heather to forget about something? I’ll have to try it with Isaac and Kim...

And with that thought in my head, I passed out, head in a book.

I woke up the next afternoon to a very familiar weight next to me. Correction, make that two weights. Kim had stayed over for the whole night, and Heather must have dropped in early in the morning, found me and Kim sleeping, and decided to join us. I didn’t move, just lay there, listening to our breathing. I usually slept commando, and last night was no exception; the odd thing was, the girls usually put pants or a long shirt on to keep them warm, even after a long bout of hot and heavy sex. As I lay there, the words end it quickly kept revolving around in my head. I looked at Heather, and Kim, and for the first time since I had met them, the idea didn’t seem that bad. Unfortunately, they both chose that moment to wake up, and try to get me in the mood. Not that it takes much to get a horny guy going with two hot girls in bed next to him.

And after sating our sexual appetites and hunger appetites, we headed out on the town for a day of it. We headed to the grocery store, and picked me up some more food, which was always good; we went to the mall, where I caught a few quick naps while they shopped for shoes and a new t-shirt apiece; they did the same while I found myself a few books for school and for just reading in general; and we ate a quick lunch at the overpriced and over greased food court. On the way back to school, we saw some people milling about the entrance to the school, sort of just hanging out. They were fooling around with some equipment, probably for a television show or something for school. We said our hellos (that is, the boys of that group waved to me and smiled at the girls and looked them in their tight shirts and even tighter spandex pants) and went to my room for a quick nap.

Not that sleep was going to come easy that day. Isaac was in his room on a weekend, which was strange. He had become the local lovable guy that everyone in the residence knew. I was known simply as ‘Isaac’s roommate.’ He had some girls from the program over. My girls went over to say hi, and soon they were all thick as thieves. I wasn’t the kind of guy where I could go over and immerse myself in the conversation easily, so I sat on his floor and just looked around and listened.

After a time, about a half hour or so, I was starting to yawn. It had been a long week, harder than what I was used to, and my body needed to recuperate. I excused myself, closed Isaac’s door behind me, and went around the tiny little corner into my room. I put on the fan, some classical music, and fell asleep before my eyes closed or my body hit the bed. I woke twice during my nap; the first time, because the smoke alarm was ringing. Isaac had been cooking something in the microwave, and apparently it had caught fire or something, and the alarm went off. Now, I am not so naive in my experiences in life that I have never smelt smoke; the types of smoke, that was different. I knew tobacco smoke intimately, as well as fire smoke. This new smoke made my stomach turn and my head reel. It was pot, the first time I had smelt it, and deciding that I didn’t care for it, I went back to sleep quickly.

The second time I woke up, it was to a different alarm. There was also a voice going off over the speakers. “...not a drill. This is a lock-down. Stay in your rooms, away from your doors and windows, and cooperate with any police that you come into contact with. This is not a drill. This is a lock-down. Stay in your rooms...” and so on. It went on for another minute or so, and then it shut off. The alarm stayed on, but got quieter. Then the voice came back on, and the alarm went off when the voice went off again.

Kim slid into my room through the door, and Heather came in the traditional way. It was still kind of disconcerting how the door swung through Kim, but not enough to make me shudder. Well, not shudder visibly. They sat on the bed, door wide open. Usually, that bothered me more than anything, but with the two of them obviously shaken, Isaac not speaking, and the other girls milling in our tiny kitchen area going in tight little pacing circles, I guessed that this was not a drill as the recording had said. There was a knock on the door.

Someone said “Police, open up!” No one moved. So, being the only person capable of rational thought at the time, moved to the door. I peered through the slot, and saw three cops outside my door, guns drawn and pointed at the door. I unlocked the door and swung it open, wide enough for all of us to be seen.

What a sight it must have been too. Four girls in the kitchen, two in my bedroom, my roommate in silent shock, and me in a polite indifferent stare.

“No one except us here, officers. Swear it. Right, everyone?”

The girls nodded dumbly; Isaac didn’t move an inch. I kept smiling, and then waited until they told me to close the door. I did so, locked it again, and had turned around when the door knocked again. I peered through the peephole again, and found the officers there again, guns holstered this time.

“Yes?” I called through the door to them.

“We have some people here who wanted to be in company. Would you open the door please?”

The door was unlocked again and open, when the girl across the hall, Liz, and Sam came in together. Liz was shaking visibly, and Sam just looked lost. I thanked the police, shut and locked the door again, and ushered everyone into my room, including my dumb roommate. Not stupid, just struck dumb. I made sure everyone was comfortable, got them drinks, and turned the TV to the news.

A helicopter was showing our school, with a news reporter speaking over the picture.

“We’re coming around again, Diane. You see the police out front, and the kids milling about in the parking lot. It seems that a professor here at the school called in a gun threat. This was about maybe an hour ago, and has spread throughout the school and even into the connecting residence. Police and SWAT teams are currently patrolling the area searching for the man, but have so far been unable to find him. We are sure that the suspect is male; he was carrying a large cylindrical object beneath a jacket, the professor said. The man was spotted hurrying from building to building, looking for someone or something. Back to you Diane.”

“ Thanks Rob. We now have a description of the person with the gun. He has been described as tall, brown hair, glasses and a brown beard, in his late teens and early 20’s. If you have any information about anything going on today, please don’t hesitate to call the police or the news lines about it. We’ll have coverage on this story until it’s abated.”

I turned the TV off. Some of the girls moaned, and Isaac and I just looked at each other. I could tell what was going on in his head, because it was also going through mine. We’re both late teens, tall, have brown hair and beards, and glasses. No wait; Isaac didn’t wear glasses. And then there was that half hour to hour that I was asleep in here.

Isaac lunged towards the phone in my room just as I lunged towards him. I grabbed his left ankle, and he fell onto the bed, right into the middle of 8 screaming girls. He bit and clawed at my hand, and I let go of him. He rolled off the bed and grabbed the phone. I lay on the floor, breathing deeply and hoping against hope that the phone lines were dead.

Isaac put the phone to his ear and waited. And waited. So did we. Then he smashed the phone back onto the cradle and murmured “Phones are dead. But you’re going away for this. Now, who were you looking for? Me? Because I like Kim?”

Ok, this was neither the time nor the place for this, but I had to let him think he had won, just until I could form a coherent thought command that didn’t make him end up eating his own tongue. He didn’t keep me waiting long.

“That has to be it! Girls, you don’t know this, but Kim here, she’s like his sex slave! She does what he wants all the time, and never even gives two shits about what she would want! He saw that she liked me the day we moved in to residence, and now, he’s thinking of a way to keep her and me apart!”

Kim, bless her, didn’t move or say anything. Heather was looking indignant, which could have scary downsides and consequences. And Sam looked like she was about to yell something, but for the life of her couldn’t manage a sound, which made her a cross of a human and a gaping fish, mouth opening and closing with no actual vocal sounds.

The other girls in the room looked downright shit-scared, and that was the one thing that I really didn’t need. If Kim phased through something, or Heather started making Isaac’s memory loss too big, I could definitely see the future coming true in this very room. A bleak and desolate future, to be sure. If Isaac framed me, or any of the other girls, then my life would be very bleak indeed.

Then a brainwave hit me, and I sent Heather a message. She looked at me with her hard eyes, and moved them up, then down, then up. She was nodding with her eyes; very sneaky, Heather.

“What about you, you idiot?” Ah, what a great start my little vixen. “You’re tall, brown hair, glasses, and you sure do skulk around this place as often as anyone else! Why should we believe you and go frame a guy who has been sleeping in here?”

“Because you dumb tart, you were all with me in my room, smoking pot! And where was he? God only knows!”

“Dumb tart?! Shut your mouth you fat slob!”

“Bitch!”

“Pussy”

“Whore!”

That was all the distraction I needed. His attention was now on Heather, and not me. So I carefully took aim, and threw the remote control that I was still holding. It hit him at the neck and shoulder junction. I had been aiming for his head, but it worked well enough for the shock effect. Kim and Heather helped to pin him down, and after making sure that there was no damage to his body, pushed him onto the bed with the girls. I decided that it was time to Combine.

The reason I write combine with a capital C is because a while back, Heather, Kim, Pam and I learned that, if the occasion and the right amount of balance was issued, we could more or less create a new power between ourselves. We had never done this to any large extent, but it was fun doing small pranks and things. Like turning yourself into a walking talking toaster. Or walking through banks, and I do mean through them, telling people not to be alarmed, that this was just a daydream.

For very good reasons, Heather and I had never Combined. We knew that if we were off, in the slightest way, then the person would be left brain-dead. While I could tell Isaac that the memory wasn’t real, a part of his sub-conscious would still register it as real. And while Heather could take care of his sub and regular consciousness, there was nothing to stop him from hurting her while she was doing it.

So we took the chance, and Combined. It’s kind of like pushing through a fast-current of water with lead weights on; there’s a lot of resistance, until you meet and join together with someone, then it becomes a lot easier to move. Well, figuratively, anyway. We met on the planes of conscious and sub-conscious, and with a gruelling effort, told Isaac to sit down, shut up and don’t do anything except regular bodily functions.

With Isaac subdued for the moment, we left our Combining and shook ourselves back to the present. The girls in the room were still in shock; Kim was looking depressed and about to cry; and Sam looked smug with herself.

Another announcement came on.

“Sorry for the lock-down. There was a report of someone in the residence with a long-cylindrical object. It turns out that the person in question was actually carrying a tripod. Sorry for the alarm. Lock-down is now over.”

The girls who had been so quiet and still before now ran for the door. I made it to them before they could leave.

“Nothing that went on here today was stranger than normal. We freaked out, and had a small fight. That is the story that you will talk about. Nothing else. Anything that you thought you saw, or thought you heard, will from now and forever be just a dream, something out of what your mind created because of the shock of hearing about the lock-down and a possible gun threat. Now, go about your lives knowing that nothing bad happened. You were with Isaac the entire time, who just went a little overboard.”

The girls nodded their heads, smiled and sighed, and left the room. Sam was still on the bed looking furious; Heather was kneeling by Kim who was silently sobbing in the corner; and Isaac was still on the bed, fallen over from where the girls had moved out of his way. He was breathing fine, and his body was numb, but his eyes were just like Sam’s, burning with a passion that only the five of us knew. It was finally time to get this out in the open.

“Sam? Go back to your room, and then come back in an hour, making up some excuse as to why you are coming back. While in your room, talk to your roommate, whoever else is there, but make sure that you spend at least 20 minutes thinking about what you want to talk about. Got it?”

She just nodded and left the room. That left the four of us. I sat down where I was, by my room’s door, and rubbed my temples. I sat there for a few seconds, gathering strength, and then said, “Isaac, you can move and do everything again. Except hurt me or them in any way you can think of.”

Isaac got up from where he was lying, and sat with his back on the wall. Kim was still crying softly, making me want to go over and hug her better. Heather was just glaring at Isaac, who in turn was glaring hatred at me.

“Isaac? We both know that neither of us was carrying that gun or tripod or whatever. Can’t we just go back to...well, not friends, but compliant roommates?”

“No. We can’t. I don’t know what you did to turn me into a mute zombie, or whatever, but I will never forget this! You can make me do things, even though all I wanted to do was hit you, you made me unable to even speak! How the hell can I expect you never to do that to me again?”

“Trust.”

“Trust?! That’s all you can say? Well, excuse me Mr. Perfect, but not everyone here has things so easy as you do! I mean, you probably found Kim in a bar somewhere, told her to forget everyone she knew and be your sex slave forever! How the hell can I compete with that?”

“Because, Isaac, that’s not what I did. I showed her that someone else had done that, but I helped her to remember who she really is. Do you really want to know how we met?”

“Sure, why not! As long as I am here, why not make it the full story! Start at the beginning, like, where the hell did you learn to do what you did to me!”

“The full story? I can help you with that. Look on your right, at the box near the edge of the bed. Yes, that one. Now find the book labelled May, 2001. Yes, start reading from there. Or don’t, whatever you want.”

Isaac ripped open the book and started to flip pages really quickly. After about maybe 10 pages or so, he started to soften his eyes a bit, and then they got wide. He picked up the 2004 book next, and kept reading. He glanced from time to time at Heather, who just gave him dirty looks and tried to console Kim. She wasn’t crying, but she wouldn’t look at any of us either. I waited for a good five minutes until I heard Isaac shift on the bed. Obviously, he had found where Kim entered the scene. A few minutes later, and he put the book down.

“I... I didn’t know. I’m sorry...I just thought, that after everything you found you could do, get whatever or whoever you want, you’d ya know...take over the world or something.”

“Me? Nah, let politics do that. I only care about the girls that have changed from who I was at the time of that high-school dance to who I am now. I love them, all of them. Even the few that aren’t here.” And the ones that are gone for good, I thought to myself.

“But, but even without using your powers, you still could have these girls anytime you want! I mean, look at them! Fucking sexy as hell, and smart, and willing to give their lives to you! Why wouldn’t you want more?”

“More? More than love? I guess that after sex, and after foreplay, and after the pain and arguments and fun and more pain, if you can survive all that, all you really need is food, water, shelter and someone to live with, to love and care for. I found 13 others who needed just that – 10 I still know and love and try to see every day that I can; 2 who no longer are kept in any kind of contact with me; and one who...who...well, just one more. But you’ll see that I don’t look for body-type or smarts alone. They have something that no other girl did when I was growing up around them; they were all independent. So much so, that 3 of them pretty much lived with me through high-school. The two who no longer keep in touch...they were travelling the world after their 11th grade. And the other one, she was feisty, strong willed and devilishly clever. I wanted girls who would be able to survive if and when we ever had to say goodbye permanently.”

“But why not get the brainless bimbo?”

“Why bother? Everyone at that stage was turned into one while I used, abused and then recycled them.”

“So why not do it now, for college? Why not just pass the school year with a 4.0 GPA?”

“Because the one thing that I never did learn was that I like to learn. I like to be busy, and the only time that I am busy is when I’m at school and working. I can’t do a desk-job; someone else would be doing all my work for me. Can’t work pretty much anywhere; I’d get tired, make someone else do it, get paid for it. So I go to school, to take Drama, to be active, to get tired, make mistakes, learn like everybody else, the old-fashioned way.”

“I’d give anything to have what you have!”

“Would you like to be able to fuck girls like Kim whenever you wanted?”

“Fuck yeah! What kind of guy wouldn’t!”

“Fair enough. How about telling someone to go suck a lemon, and they do that? Or try and find a way to fuck themselves? Or telling someone to piss off and die, and they die doing just that? It’s not easy being me. It’s hard not doing what I want, when I want, how I want. It’s harder to watch my language. You, you can make decisions based on what you can and can’t do right now. You can swear and make jokes and talk behind someone’s back all you want, knowing that if anything you said did happen, it was just a weird coincidence.”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

“And one last thing. Sex, at a young age, spoils it for the rest of your life. I was a porn-star at age 16, a pimp by 18, and now I feel like I have the sex-drive of a 70-year-old. That sound like fun for you?” I asked with a slight snarl.

“No, not really.”

“Then I hope that we can just put all this behind us.”

“How can I, knowing who and what you are?”

“Heather? Can you come here for a moment?”

I stood up to face Heather. She wasn’t glaring anymore, but I could still feel her pain. I wanted to just make it go away, but that wouldn’t help her in the long run. I had squandered my gift early and now I was paying for it. We were almost 20, and we still couldn’t control our anger well.

Making a brave effort, I put my arm around Heather.

“Heather, here has a strange gift, much like mine.”

“Yeah, she can...make people...forget things, right? Things they know or knew?”

“Hmph, for you, I could make you believe that you were 70,” growled Heather.

“Heather...” I chided softly. “No, what I can do for you, with Heather’s help and your permission, is to destroy this last episode in your life. She can even replant images, so you can remember it the way the others will.”

“Would it hurt?”

“No. I’d put you to sleep, you’d wake up in your own bed, believing that you had seen the girls out after the lock-down and then went for a short nap. That’s all.”

“And you can give me your word that she won’t tamper with anything else?” he asked, a touch of fear in his eyes.

“I give you my word as a roommate, a co-worker, and...a friend.”

“Alright, she can do it. But, can I say a few things that I won’t remember anyway?”

“I see no harm in that. If there are any lasting memories recurring when you wake up, you’ll tell me about them so we can fix them.”

A small shudder from the neck up. Isaac’s eyes flashed with anger again.“Don’t do that to me again.”

“Sorry, it’s for me and us to be safe. Old habits and all that. Ready?”

“Okay, here goes. Eric, go fuck yourself, because no matter what, you’ll always be a jerk, an asshole, and a dick. Heather, you’ve got a fine-ass body, and a temper of a 6-year-old. And Kim?”

Kim, eyes red and puffy from crying, finally lifted her head long enough to hear his last words.

“I love you, Kimberly.”

She nodded, and then buried her head in her arms again. I thought-spoke to Heather, <Erase that part from yours, Kimberly’s and his head.> She nodded, and thought the memory away. I thought-spoke to her again. <When I touch your shoulder, follow him, erase his last hour, and replace it with a memory of hiding in his room with the other girls, and then he went for a nap.>

Heather stood stock still, and breathed out slowly, preparing herself for the transfusions of memories.

“Isaac? Go to your room and sleep for an hour. Wake up, think this was a crazy dream that you can’t remember, and go about your life as normally.”

He slumped down, head on his chest, breathing deeply and snoring a bit. I turned and strode towards Kim, touching Heather on her shoulder as I went. She stood straight up and locked eyes onto Isaac. I reached Kim, who didn’t move. I just sat next to her, and waited for her to move or speak. I heard my door open and then close, and his door open, some more deep breathing and then Heather exhaling deeply and loudly. She slammed his door closed, and I guess that she just waited around in the kitchen for a bit, because she didn’t come straight back into the room.

“Kim? Kimberly, look at me please.”

When she didn’t, I tried a different tactic. I laid on my back, and moved to in front of her legs. I squirmed backwards, until I was looking up and her face from in between her legs. I couldn’t see much of her face because of her jutting boobs, but I did see her eyes and focussed on them.

“Kim? See what lengths I have to go to get your attention?”

She giggled, in that half-happy half-sad way people do. She lifted her head and stared straight ahead, towards the door. Then she put her head back down with a sad smile.

“Yeah, as always, my body has put you to some interesting lengths.”

Shit, busted. It was true, she always got me hot, even when I didn’t mean to get aroused. I smiled and pantomimed shrugging by lifting my eyebrows a bit.

“Kim, why are you so sad? He won’t remember this last hour, and he won’t know why you are moping around in here instead of being in there with him.”

Her eyes opened in shock.

“You mean, you aren’t angry with me? You’re not going to tell me and him that we can’t be together and to forget about each other?”

“Why would I do that? Because you like him and he likes you too? The only reason I can think of doing that is if he hit you for any reason other than playful tackling or tickling.”

“But aren’t you sad that he’s getting to see more of me that you do?”

“Nope. Well, kinda. It’s a little saddening that our nightly jaunts have become you screwing me into a sex-coma and then leaving to go screw him.”

“What?”

“You know, I can feel and hear when you’re in his room. Call it love or jealousy or whatever, but I know when you aren’t here beside me.”

“We aren’t screwing around.”

“Sure, you can say that to make me feel better. But I can hear his bed bounce at night.”

“Ever thought that we’re just friends?”

“Nope, not for a second. A hot and sexy girl like you, and you want me to believe that he’s playing the chaste noble knight?”

She laughed long and softly.

“Oh, Eric. Despite what you might think, no, we don’t fuck each other. We sit and talk and yeah, we do a little petting, but he has a girlfriend, and I have you. We both know that it’s just until we get to see the other person again. He loves me, I know. Heather didn’t erase my memory of that, just hers and his. See, women like to know who loves them, despite how they might react or if they know. I knew from the first moment we screwed that you loved me, even if it took you a bit longer to realize it. You saved me, and for that I am eternally grateful. Even Isaac doesn’t know that. Well, not anymore, anyway. But he does know that we’re in love, and he doesn’t want that to end. We play games with each other, and like I said a bit of petting, but we both put stops to it if it gets too much more than just playing. Like kissing – none whatsoever. Or second base – not going to happen. I love you, you idiot, because I do. I love Isaac, because he is the friend that I need from a guy. Think of him more as the gay guy that looks like you and who tries to experiment with me but decides that overall guys are better.”

It was my turn to be shocked. I didn’t know, even in the core of my soul that they were ‘just friends with some benefits’.

“I’m sorry if you thought ill of me, Kim.”

“Heh, it’s okay, you’re just a guy. A sexy one at that, too. Better looking and better fucking than any guy I know. And while on that note, if you’re going to be down there, at least do something will you? You should never keep a lady waiting for anything.”

“As you wish!”

She laughed again, this time with pure happiness and joy. I leant my head back a bit, and moved back some more, until my tongue came into contact with her very tight pants. I kissed and licked at her prominent folds, and she moaned her appreciation. I reached my hands around behind us and started to massage her lower back. She moved up some until she was sitting on my face, and I didn’t stop licking and kissing. She reached forward and placed a hand onto my dick, rubbing it slowly through the fabric of my shorts. While not as warm as skin-on-skin contact, the fabric made for a good sensation.

I had been licking at her pussy for only a moment in this position when I heard some rustling and then a soft thump as her shirt came off. She moved off of my face long enough to remove her pants, and then sat down again, but this time not on my face, but where she had been before, giving me a great view of her tits and her body in total. She knew how I could get jealous of someone other than me enjoying the view and the feel of her naked body, and used this for her enjoyment.

A new sensation, and her foot came into contact with my shorts instead of her hand. She was sitting back, letting me do the work, leisurely rewarding me with a stroke of her foot on my cock, still confined in my shorts. I feared that she would orgasm too quickly, so slacked off a bit to remove my shorts. When seeing my hands go for my shorts, however, she planted both feet on them and refused to let them go. She waggled her finger and gave a stern no look, and then placed her head back. We were playing this new game of hers, and as far as I could tell, it was getting her very hot and bothered. So instead I reached up and started to play with her nipples. She resumed lightly stroking my shorts, making sure to do it just enough to keep me aroused but not enough to make me cum.

I moved from one nipple to the other, utilizing the same tricks, just to keep her at the peak but not push her over. Then one of her feet went under the band of my shorts, and found its target. I shuddered a bit at the cold feet, then at the feeling of something other than a hand, a mouth, a pussy or a pair of tits around it. I lapped at her faster and more willingly, and she did the same.

Just as I was about to explode, her clit came into view finally, and I attacked it with such vigour that I could have licked it right off had my tongue been just a bit stronger. She moaned and was starting to sweat quite a bit, making my touch around her breasts become slick and making them easier to manage and fondle. Then she stood up, and reached down for me.

When I was standing she pointed to the bed. I lay down, pulling my shorts off and letting my throbbing dick out to breathe finally. She climbed on top of me and demanded that I fuck her hard. Never being one to disappoint a woman, I did just that. I plunged myself into her right to the hilt, then slowly drew it back out to slam it into her again. She was screaming now in pure ecstasy, feeling my cock open her up every time I thrust into her. But she would ride me; that was the way of it now. I tried to position it so I could be on top and really give it to her, but she remained on top at all times, never letting me get close to throwing her off.

I finally exploded into her after a few minutes, the sex feeling that much better because of the foreplay beforehand. I knew what she had been after for those few minutes, and I kind of liked not being in total control all the time. After 19 years of telling people how to fuck me, it was nice being told through foreplay how they wanted it. Except that this time, she didn’t stop.

She was still riding me, even though I was falling limp inside of her. I was going to plop out soon, but she wouldn’t have it. She reached down and tugged on my nipples, licking my pecks and kissing and sucking my neck. I was soon getting hard again, and she fucked me until I came again. This was starting to scare me a bit. Once in a while is fine, but twice at once was kind of hard for me to swallow. When she saw that no amount of nipple pinching and neck sucking was going to get me going for number 3, she climbed off and took me into her mouth, swirling the head around and licking all the way down, around and back up, to suck the saliva off of me. Then she would repeat the motions, trying to coax me into another erection.

It paid off quickly, and soon I was shooting into her waiting mouth. She licked the cum off of her lips, and kept the rest of it in her mouth until I saw her swallow it. She kissed me on the mouth, harder than I was used to, and then pulled back in a sexual rage, rubbing her crotch against mine. I didn’t know how she expected me to get number 4 up so soon, when I usually had trouble getting 2 in a row without lots of inspirations around me. Even so, as soon as I had a half-hard cock, I roughly flipped her over and fucked her hard and fast. She didn’t fight me this time; in fact she seemed glad to see that I could fight her for how I wanted to screw her. I managed a slight orgasm, but only enough to see it barely come out, and then I was done. But, I knew what I had to do, so I knelt in between her legs, and started to lick and suck her clit as her legs wrapped around my head, trapping it in there.

She finally decided to cum, and cum she did. Her whole body shook and seized up, having one long spasm until her legs unclenched and I moved up to kiss her, mixing our love juices and sweat together.

“Thanks for that Eric. I’d been holding that in all day, and I really needed to let loose and take control for a bit. It’s nice to know that you can still fuck me how you want, even if you can’t speak or think it to me.”

“I’ll say. What a performance. Seems like I’m a bit late for the festivities.”

Heather was standing at the door to my room, buck naked and wearing a slight grin on her face. She shrugged and then slid up on Kim’s other side, licking up some sweat and cum that had pooled in the valley of her tits. “Whatever came over you Kim?”

“Well, Eric, for one.”

“Ha! No, I meant, why do that?”

“I can think of one reason...”

“Oh, can you now?”

“Heather, please, I know you can tell people what to do,” I exasperated. She rolled her eyes and smiled and then giggled.

“Well, how else do you relieve tension and distress? Fuck it off, that’s the only way I know, and so far it works great! Now, how’s it looking for a 5th time for me?”

I just laughed so much that Kim and Heather giggled with me until we heard banging on the wall dividing Isaac’s room from mine.

“I’m glad someone is having fun, but try to keep it down, will you? Some of us are trying to sleep!”

Kim looked at Heather, then at me, and I just half-smiled and waved her off. “What are you waiting for? Go get him, you sexy beast you!”

“Thanks sweetie!” Kim kissed me, put her pants back on, and then left the room, closing the door behind her. We listened, heard a gasp, a muffle, and then a bed creak. We didn’t stop laughing until we heard the door knock again.

Putting my shorts on and leaving Heather on the bed for a moment, I went and answered the door. Sam was there, looking livid and scared at the same time. I ushered her in, and pushed/shoved her into my room, where Heather took control of her emotions for a bit and made Sam get her off twice before I could dismiss what had happened before, plus any anger she may have had with us or would have. Then one more orgasm for them both, with me watching, and Sam left to go back to her room, happy and sexually satisfied for the afternoon.

I looked over at Heather; actually, I just looked at her breasts, and she pulled my head against them until I was resting on them very peacefully. We saw Kim enter through the wall, and lay on my other side, and once again, I had two very sexually interested girls giving me a boob pillow for a nap. But before sleep would overcome me, Heather spoke slowly and quietly.

“Eric? I’ve found them.”