The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“It’s just so nice to finally be free of that bitch.”

After saying that out loud, Jenny immediately put her napkin to her mouth and her eyes down to the expensive steak her date had just bought her. That last word clashed so hard with the violin-laced ambiance she was surprised the music didn’t stop. Jenny practically heard a record scratch.

Worse than the gaffe was her date’s cocked eyebrow wordlessly demanding an explanation. Jenny was absolutely forbidden from explaining to this mortal just who that bitch was. This was an “intel mission,” or something. Jenny didn’t see the importance of it in the grand scheme of things. She did see a great deal of pointlessness in becoming a demi-goddess only to end up as a cog in an even more gigantic machine.

A cog that got sexually dominated on a daily basis. She took this mission because it meant two guaranteed weeks of not being a human chair when she screwed up her training. That bitch really should realize not everyone’s been practicing for like a hundred years.

The silence was getting too awkward. Jenny had to make something up, fast.

“My...mother. Umm...she says I suck at everything. Punishes me when I screw up.” Those punishments made Penthouse letters blush. “I’m sorry, I’m just...umm...mmm, yummy steak!” Jenny shoved a forkful into her mouth and forced the corners of her pouty lips upward while she chewed.

Daniel Emanon, her date, laughed. “Ann, look.”

Ann? Right. Her cover identity. Ann McKenzie, scouting commercial real estate for Henderson Heavy Industries near Chrystal Heights because hey, everybody needs refrigerators. She had a business card and everything.

“I’m the one that should be nervous here. I’m in a fancy restaurant with a beautiful woman in a revealing evening gown that emphasizes her deep, green...” Daniel brought his glance back to her face. “...eyes. So...you know...you can relax a bit and not space out,” he said.

When Jenny was fat and her behavior needed correcting the sharp comments arrived swiftly. Today she couldn’t believe what her beauty and impressive cleavage let her get away with. That bitch had explained it to her; maybe she did know what she was talking about.

“Am I really spacing out that much?” Said Jenny as she flashed a flirtatious smile.

“You’re eating steak with the salad fork.”

So much for Miss Fancy- pants commercial real estate go-getter female. She let the fork clatter on the plate and shifted about uncomfortably. Through the miracle of her hotness he didn’t seem to think anything was wrong. Still, she was going down in flames.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere else?” She asked with a shaky voice. If she could play up the “nervous” thing...

“Well we’re half done and—“

“Look the truth is...I do fancy stuff all day, you know? At work. I appreciate that you wanted to impress me and all but...these places aren’t really my thing. You wanna go get a beer?”

He totally bought it. “Why, Ann McKenzie. Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes.” She giggled coquettishly. Jenny almost felt like the training paid off.

“Check please.”

Ed was bored. Since his promotion to Ms Durant’s bodyguard all he did was block the entrance to a tiny spiral staircase that led to the second floor, a feat he was large enough to accomplish simply by standing. He mostly watched Andrew mess up his old job at the front door. The front was where all the action was. Prima was such an important club to see and be seen; troublemakers just want to get inside. After that, no one gave a shit about the decorative spiral staircase.

Regulars still saw Ed and knew nothing went down while he was around. New people saw Ed and canceled whatever nefarious plans they had. It’s not just that Ed was large, made of rounded muscle, dark, an tattooed. His stance, his body language, the life experience he wore on every inch of his body just seemed to growl “don’t try it.” There were other large bouncers, but Ed was the reason no one tried anything in Prima.

This drunken ditz was trying something in Prima. Ed started the procedure.

“Bathroom’s the other way, miss.”

“Huh? “ They always cocked their heads to the side to look stupid. It was supposed to disarm him.

“I don’t have to go to the bathroom. You big silly,” she said. Ed ignored the black lace corset and the boobs they were presenting. This was one unlucky bar slut. Ms. Durant had trained him to resist this, usually by making sure he’d always have better. Ed started to look for anything she might be trying to distract him from.

“Mister! Mister! Down here! I knew your name. Dammit! E. Eeeee. Eddie! No Ed! You’re Ed! You have to help me!” She was positively bouncing with giggly frustration. Her scandalously short, black, lacy petticoat bounced high enough to show her panties.

“Restricted area. You gotta go.”

“Dammit Eddie! Don’t you recognize me? You totally had sex with my friend!”

“I ain’t got time for this,” said Ed. It was a lie of course, but he was still about to signal for someone else to drag the world’s dumbest goth out of here.

“I have to see Breakrave! She’s the only one that can figure out what’s happening to me. You have to let me up there!”

Ed had just made eye contact with another bouncer but waved him off. The mention of Ms Durant’s alter ego snapped him to attention. He looked past the girl’s curves and saw her much more clearly.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” With an affirmative nod to the other bouncers, Ed stepped aside and let her ascend the spiral staircase. Glancing up, he didn’t remember her having such a nice ass.

Carolyn Adela Durant found it hard to feel like Breakrave, legendary Battle Dancer, Battle Hooker, and leader in club fashion trends. She sat listlessly at her expensive mahogany desk with her blue hair slumping over her orange tee shirt. Several colors of scrunchies and other hair ties waited on her wrist but none would be used.

She was still on a 90-day suspension; The Pander didn’t appreciate her initiating a sacred battle rite without permission—and losing. It meant she had to tone down her activities among mortals, hence the time-killing inventory reports. She’d rather be on the dance floor. It sucked at times, but it gave her time to train her student. She was out on her first mission. All she had to do was get Daniel Emanon to take her on a date to The Golden Streak. She would get the layout of the place, the regular patrons, and the higher-ups would take it from there. It was so simple a mortal could do it.

“Hi, Carol!”

Carolyn jumped as the door Ed wasn’t supposed to let anyone reach slammed open with a chipper greeting. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Most would consider what was at her threshold sexy, but her knowledge in these matters after 167 years of life spotted too much...Wrong.

Other than the security problem, the clothes didn’t match the attitude. The voice was the kind of bubbly that could only be attained from not having a care in the world. The clothes reflected the dark of a soul that had been through a lot. Knee-high platform boots led to torn fishnet stockings. Her swimsuit area was covered by a black, too-short petticoat that mocked Lolita fashions with its morbid lace. The black and blood corset exposed too much midriff and too much cleavage. Among Battle Hookers, greeting with such overt sexuality was an attack.

Something else was wrong. Breakrave sensed it but her brain needed more time to explain.

“I’m sorry to...like, barge in but please, you have to help me!” A giggle escaped the goth queen as the red in her corset tried to turn pink. The ditz frowned and it went back. Someone was wrestling control of this girl’s Anima from her, piece by piece.

In her mind, Breakrave removed the obvious changes. She envisioned the girl with a wider waist. Her calves and thighs shouldn’t be that defined, or look airbrushed in real life. Her chest was already two cup sizes too big for her frame. Now it was clear.

“Shakti, Mother of All! Kate! What have they done to you?” Said Breakrave as she ran to the changed girl. She pulled Kate into a protective embrace.

Kate buried herself in the gorgeous woman, feeling comforted for the first time in months. The breakup with Jenny, now Breakrave’s student was bad enough. She sobbed, but whatever was taking over her body and mind wouldn’t allow her enough sorrow for a full cry. She spoke into Carolyn’s shirt.

“Two days ago my head started hurting. It was almost like...the last time you held me. But not so bad.”

Jenny was Kate’s woman in a mystical way. When someone else took control of Jenny, the bond was ripped from Kate’s mind. Carolyn had helped her through the pain.

“Then I felt better. I thought I was coming around. Hehe, coming.”

“Stay with me, dearie.” Carolyn held her tighter, shaking the girl a little.

“Umm...I thought I was getting over the breakup. But then my witchcraft got harder. I was studying the geo...umm...maths in it. It stopped making sense. Everything was bubbly. Nice, pink, bubbles, like nice, pink cocks.”

“Focus, Kate. You have to tell me the rest.” The witch that altered an intricate and ancient ritual to create an entirely new kind of Battle Hooker couldn’t even say “geometry.” An even worse sign was the lesbian dreaming of cock. Lesbian. Oh, bollocks.

Kate’s hands slipped under Carolyn’s shirt. “Oooh, you have such nice skin.” Kate started to nuzzle her chest with an adorable motion, like a kitten trying to shake a sock off its head.

“No, no, Kate, you can’t,” said Carolyn. Even dressed down, her Battle Hooker body still exuded peak levels of sexuality. Her Anima kept her young and fit forever, a fact appreciated by all who touched her. Worse, Kate’s altered body had touches of perfection as well. The way this girl was nuzzling her chest, making mewling sounds, just screamed “nine-hour girl-girl session.” It screamed too loudly for a mortal.

Kate’s hands climbed up Carolyn’s back as she moved to kiss her exposed neck. Carolyn shook with surprise at how much pleasure the soft lips brought with each landing on her neck and shoulder. Another Anima besides Kate’s was here. “No, Kate, you must, oh...”

What if this Anima could somehow gain control of her too?

Breakrave seized each of Kate’s wrists and held her at arm’s length. With a sudden surge of power, she yelled, “I bloody well told ya to stop, ya tart!”

Kate tried to move closer but Breakrave’s arms were as unyielding as iron. “Wow, you’re really strong,” said Kate. Her eyes collapsed under the weight of mascara as she tried to breathily seduce the warrior in front of her. The iron grip on her wrists tightened.

“Ow. Ow. OWIE! Stop! Thank you.”

“Don’t look at me, look down,” she commanded. The pain seemed to snap her out of it, but for how long?

“I can’t do my spells anymore. They’re too hard. All I can do is see colors. I knew my intel...int...my head was...I made you this.”

Breakrave accepted the contact lens case. One of the lenses was missing.

“You see what I see. Please...put it in! Put it in!” As the red sections in Kate’s corset turned pink, Breakrave put the lens in her left eye and saw a trail of red mist floating away from Kate, in a definite direction, flowing through the west wall.

As a Witch, Kate could see the flow of mystical energies. If she was still seeing them, it meant whatever had her hasn’t reached her powers yet. There was still time. Looking at the flowing red mist, Breakrave felt it must have been Anima. Control of Kate’s will and sexuality was leaving her and flowing away.

To where? To whom?

Three Days Ago

Daniel couldn’t believe his luck. The one time he decides to be classy and woo the sexy-out-of-towner with fine dining and professional conversation, she whisks him out of Chez Snob and actually wants to just have some beers. With the fates this far on his side he offered to take her to The Golden Streak. Wherever Ann was from this bar’s reputation must not have reached there. She said yes.

Jenny couldn’t believe her luck. She’d had etiquette training, mission briefings, and boring things with even longer names. During it all she swore up and down she had it all down just to get it to end. Tonight it felt like she was doing everything wrong yet out of nowhere, on her first try, her date brought her right to The Golden Streak’s front door. She was giddy with dreams of a triumphant return a full week ahead of schedule. That’d show the bitch. Maybe some success under her hip-hugging belt would get her a little more leeway.

The layout of the bar was pretty simple. There was no glass alcove around the entrance or darkened hand-stamp area to speak of. The front door was to the far right of a bunch of windows and marching through it left you right where you wanted to be—the bar. The rest of the room had like 20 tables and some restaurant booths along the wall.

All she needed to find was that sign, check the bathroom for small ninja-escape windows and she’d be done, an evening of beer and sex waiting in reward. The wall behind the bar had a liquor license, state health board certification, oooh, black label scotch, a no smoking sign, and some other paper that she couldn’t make out but the official border was just like the one in Prima. Her date was trying to say something.

Jenny grabbed his right hand and placed it on her left thigh. Licking her lips in a wicked smile, she dragged his hand up her thigh. His fingers tried to grip her bottom but it extended too far out, making her gown swell in the back. As she drew his hand near her ribs she said, “You’re going to pour drinks in me until I have sex with you.” Just before his hand could reach the largest prizes on her body, she yanked it away, up into the air. “Bartender, black label, please. And no rocks!”

Battle Hookers needed control over their partners lest they end up being controlled. Jenny used that line often enough at Prima to know it worked. Asking a man to make an offering just to be with her spoke to the divine energy in an old language it understood—sacrifice. When either of them orgasmed later, Jenny would be identified as the Goddess and he the worshiper. She would control him. She didn’t need him for anything; the important thing was he didn’t end up controlling her.

Should he win control of her Anima it would twist her body and mind to his liking in every way. No mortal would relinquish that so she had to be careful. He was going to “offer” alcohol paid for by his hard-earned dollars, jizz all over her hand and suddenly “discover” he really likes getting fucked up the ass by the lifelike cocks Jenny could conjure up. Breakrave used her Anima to make pretty glowing ribbons while raving. Jenny could make cocks in the air or on herself. Win.

Tables weren’t assigned so Daniel just grabbed one near the bar and ordered the App Sampler, a haphazard collection of things that fit in the deep fryer. Jenny loved bar food. Now that Anima kept her body at the peak of sexual attractiveness she loved it even more. She didn’t see why that bitch made her work out so hard every day. Couldn’t she just fuck some lust-struck dude until her Anima kicked the fat off her ass? Jenny ordered a pitcher of calories and her own plate of wings.

The Golden Streak is definitely magical, thought Daniel as he watched Jenny try to gain weight. At least it all went to those melons. The more he thought about how the magic of this bar was going to put this magazine-hot babe in his bed the less he could keep the smile off his face. The girl was obviously a trophy secretary sent on a dull assignment to make her feel important. She didn’t even notice the room was mostly guys. After all, girls steered clear of a bar rumored to turn them into sluts—especially after a few live testimonials ran loose in the city. Guys mostly showed up for their usual drinking and the occasional converted slut that didn’t care what happened to her holes after a pitcher or five. Girls like Bobbi.

“Hi!” Exclaimed Bobbi as she flounced into the empty chair opposite Jenny. Her breasts arrived two seconds before she did and stopped moving two seconds after. Her blonde hair was like her attention span, short and bouncy. Blue eye shadow and sparkles made gave her permanent but cheerful bedroom eyes. Her lips were lush but versatile. Right now she was smiling with contagious glee, a signal to all that she was fun and having fun. In full pout they would force you to think of getting a blowjob. She had a heart-shaped face in case anyone thought It important.

Jenny wiped her mouth and became business like. “Can I help you, miss?” She’d heard Ed deliver that line enough. It was Polite for “you have about five seconds to explain yourself.” The most relaxed Battle Hooker is more territorial than the worst mortal. Jenny’s first battle happened when she accidentally stepped on Breakrave’s territory.

“Well, OK. Like, two guys were fucking me in the bathroom, and I cleaned up, and I saw you, and I was like, ‘wow a girl would be fun’ because it’s all guys in here. Y’know?”

Jenny glared at her. “Beat it, Barbie. He’s mine.” Daniel looked like he just found out there is no Santa Claus.

Bobbi’s cheer and lust wouldn’t be denied. “I’m not Barbie, you silly. I’m Bobbi! You got it wrong, now you have to drink.” Bobbi held up the half-full pitcher. “House rules!”

Jenny grabbed the pitcher and drank right out of it. She made a big show of looking all the way up so her slender, white throat contrasted against her bright-red hair. The growing audience could see her throat muscles undulate as they invited the large amounts of liquid deep within. Jenny softened her eyes and let her tongue play over the clear glass.

Pitcher drained, Jenny slammed it on the table and let out a belch that would make the father of truckers proud. “Beat it, BOBBI. My fist isn’t an STD so you have no business catching it.”

Bobbi spent almost half a second trying to decipher the insult and gave up. Her face wore confusion like it was sexy lingerie. She hugged Danny’s left arm. “So Danny Boy, what are you up to these days?”

Danny Boy slowly turned his head from Jenny and looked down into lusty eyes and a very deep cleavage. Her perfume (or pheromones) shut down the part of his brain that knew better. He started babbling impressive-sounding words. “Well, right now our team is financing defense contracts for the government and—”

“You know her?” Yelled Jenny as she slammed the empty pitcher again.

Daniel looked towards Jenny again while Bobbi tugged at his arm. “Well, you know. We met here. We had some fun but then I met you and—“ He shuddered as Bobbi’s hand started rubbing the bulge in his trousers. Jenny caught it.

Jenny kicked Bobbi’s knee under the table, not Daniel’s. It wasn’t his fault this slut was dragging him around by his Animus. Mortals weren’t aware of such energies, Battle Hookers lived by controlling them. Bobbi’s Anima was about to get punched into submission.

Jenny rose to her full height of 5′10″, or 178cm as her trainer insisted. Fists on the table, she bore down on Bobbi, immune to her amazing rack. “I’ll use small words. Go away. Or I will close your sex hole.” It was a real threat. Jenny’s kind played for total control over mind and body.

“You’re mean. Is it because your titties are small?”

Jenny yanked Daniel’s head directly into her cleavage, leaving the poor man’s left arm twisted in Bobbi’s grasp. “My titties are big enough for any man,” she said. “Tell her, Daniel.”

“They’re big enough for any man,” said Daniel. His voice was muffled. He repeated her words exactly, a sign her breasts were winning control over him.

Bobbi still held his left arm. She used it to pull him over into her valley. “MY titties are bigger and softer. Aren’t they, Danny Boy?”

“They are bigger and softer,” said the muffled voice that once was Daniel.

Rage strengthened Jenny’s grip as she tore Daniel away from Bobbi, slamming him into her chest, harming his right arm in the process. “He’s MY date, he’s getting ME drunk, and he’s having a night of wild sex with ME.”

“You’re hurting me,” said Daniel in a muffled whimper. The pain in his arm was simultaneously comforted by her breasts. His brain no longer knew what to do, but it did have breasts, so it figured to just stay right there.

“It’s OK Daniel, she won’t hurt you,” Jenny said curtly.

Bobbi seemed dumbfounded but then again she always looked like that. She saw the empty beer pitcher. She saw the hapless plaything. Her eyes and a smile opened slowly as the bimbo came up with her weekly idea.

“You want to play Turn On!”

“Excuse me?” Daniel was still trying to regain his left arm from Bobbi. Imprisoned in Jenny’s chest he really couldn’t muster the effort.

Bobbi leaned in. “We drink for him!”

Jenny smiled as she realized Bobbi had no idea how dumb a move she just made, even for a bimbo. Drinking was hers. Even as a mortal she had a high tolerance due to her weight. As a Battle Hooker she trained in a night club. Alcohol consumption had a deep enough connection to sex for her Anima to be able to control it.

While mortals barely keep a lid on their basest desires, Battle Hookers have full control over all sexual aspects of their own bodies. Anima shaped the body, kept it young, gave it strength, removed toxins and diseases, whatever it took to keep the body ethereally desirable. If Jenny’s Anima didn’t want alcohol making it vulnerable it would erase the alcohol from her system. She’d drink this bitch under the table, sling Daniel over her shoulder and walk out a champion ready to ravage spoils.

“You take a shot and say something that turns men on,” Bobbi continued. “When I’m too drunk to do anything, everyone wins!”

Jenny would blow her cover if she just conjured up some dildos and triple-stuffed this slut like she wanted to, but figured the men around here would get the job done. The girl’s breath already smelled like Long-Island iced tea.

“Get the shots,” said Jenny.

“K!” Bobby wobbled over to the bar on her six-inch heels. She went behind the bar and held out ten fingers as if she were a five-year-old learning to count.

“I need a lot of this many.”

“Now Bobbi, you know I can’t keep giving you free alcohol. The bar—“

Bobbi fell to her knees. Everyone knew the tell-tale sign of that blonde head sinking behind the counter.

“The bar will go out—“

Bobbi lifted her shirt and started undoing his pants.

“—of business.” He started reaching for a bottle of Wild Turkey.

Bobbi a little too short to give him a titfuck but her breasts were large enough to be pushed up around his cock. She stroked him to hardness while looking up at him with wide, desperate eyes as if she were the one deriving ultimate pleasure from the activity. She started to breathe heavily, mirroring his arousal, making it appear as though he were fucking her tight pussy.

“Pwease...for me...” The bartender awkwardly reached to the side and set up ten shot glasses while protesting weakly.

Bobbi moved up and took his cock all the way down her throat. She held it in her mouth, lovingly making out with the base of his shaft. When she finally broke off the “kiss,” she nuzzled his cock against her face. Sure everyone in the bar had her many times, but right now the two were intimate lovers.

Jenny knew what was going on behind the bar but didn’t care to see, or let Daniel out of his current position. “Slut,” she muttered as her hand went to Daniel’s crotch. She was going to make him cum just to assert some control over him. It’d be quick, not like that amateur behind the bar. She may be from Chrystal Heights but Battle Hookers are powered by the divine mandate to procreate.

Jenny reached down Danny’s slacks and found him already stiff from exposure to her voluminous breasts. Her hand was so warm to the touch it almost felt like a pussy. Daniel gasped and may have tried to protest but with his face buried in her chest nothing like that would escape. It took almost two seconds for him to lose his will to resist anyway.

She used all five fingers to stroke up his shaft all the way to the most sensitive parts of the tip, keeping all five fingertips in contact at the same time. When she stroked down her warm palm comforted the head of his cock while her fingers stimulated the shaft.

In public, out on a date, Daniel didn’t actually want to come. He wanted some control over the situation, over himself. The handjob was too much pleasure concentrated in a single second. He mustered what little of himself wanted to resist, but she just moved her hand a few inches. After five seconds his new reason for not wanting to come was because he didn’t want it to end. Three seconds later it ended.

Jenny pulled her hand from his pants, using her Anima to make sure not a single sperm cell stuck to her hand. She wasn’t nearly as gifted as Breakrave at controlling semen but she had the basics down: no stick. Daniel had his head resting on large breasts and he had just climaxed. He was definitely pacified. Yet for some reason, for just a second she felt like she didn’t have control over Daniel. Before she could think about it, Bobbi returned with the first tray of ten shots and a napkin. And about a dozen onlookers that knew what tended to happen when two women played Turn On.

“Me first!” Said the drink-loving bimbo. She spoke slowly and over-enunciated, as if she were trying very hard to remember a simple script. “Everyone here has fucked me silly and will do me again tonight.” She downed her first shot to the tune of cheers and planted the empty shot glass on the table, upside-down. “Now you!”

Jenny picked up her first shot. Daniel was almost sleeping, so she just left him where he was and pondered what to say. It was harder than she thought. Like trying to think of a joke on command, you’ve heard so many yet none jump to the front on command. All eyes were on her, it was showtime. Maybe if she followed the expert’s lead...

“Umm...I’m a redheaded slut.” The game was afoot.

“I’m double-jointed!” Bobbi punctuated the answer by showing just how far back she could move her arms. Her chest nearly knocked over a shot glass.

“My body’s not just hot, it’s really hot. Like, I warm the bed really well.” The crowd wanted more than that, but the shot went down so she guessed it was legal.

Tray after tray came, and both combatants had large pyramids of shot glasses in front of them. Jenny was impressed by Bobbi, but the girl was teetering back and forth. Her speech was slurred. Jenny was also feeling the effects. She could have cleared them almost immediately but didn’t. She needed to keep up the act and not blow her cover. She would recover just enough to win this event.

It was Bobbi’s turn. “I loves...ash fucks. I cum when mens fucks my sweet asssh.”

It was hard to think of things to say. Twenty? Thirty? If Bobbi wasn’t going first Jenny might have lost a long time ago. “My...assh is indestructible. You can fuck it for hours and I’ll beg for more.” And the crowd goes wild.

“I’m a cum dump.”

“I’m a sperm dumpster.” Jenny thought highly of herself for having a better vocabulary.

More trays came. Jenny felt the game should be over by now but it was like Bobbi was too stupid to pass out. The girl could barely lift her head off her boobs to drink. It wouldn’t be long now.

“Umm...I can’t shtop men from touching my big, fat boobies.” Bobbi giggled in spite of her lethargy as men stepped up to test the theory. Soon they were holding her up by the breasts, mashing and kneading them. She just sighed in pleasure.

Without thinking, Jenny followed. “I’m drunk enough to let men play with my big titties, too.” She took Daniel and her dress off and sat there in her thong and high heels. Jenny even made her breasts bigger to compete. Daniel took first crack at those tits, but they were large enough for three others to enjoy at the same time.

More trays.

Jenny was finding it hard to concentrate now. Someone was always mashing her big titties together and her nipples were hard. She had to say a lot of things about what a slut she was and how easily any man could shove his cock in her and make her cum. Luckily Bobbi went first so all she had to do was copy.

“Men can touch me anywhere, right now.” The men began massaging Bobbi’s thighs and inner thighs.

“Men can...grope...me...freely.” Jenny sighed as the men’s hands began to pull her legs further apart to gain access.

Bobbi made a lazy motion to grab another shot glass. “Men’re gon’na jizz aaaaaall over me. I wan’ it.” In a smooth motion she launched her entire head back and spilled most of the glass’ 151-proof contents down her throat.

For the first time, Jenny was genuinely concerned that it was her turn. The room beyond the table and her view of Bobbi was spinning. Devilish fingers were sneaking past her thong and releasing her moisture from within. The erotic massage of her thighs, hips, and lower lips compounded the pleasurable distractions coming from her hard nipples. She should have them stop, but then she might lose. She had to turn them on.

Something else was wrong. Jenny’s hand wouldn’t move right when she reached for a shot glass. She swept her arm too broadly and knocked one over, spilling its contents all over the table. When she brought it to her mouth, her arm wavered again and she spilled the liquid down her chin. Everyone watched as the sticky liquid gave a highlighted tour of her amazing body. It dribbled down her throat, around her breasts, across her taught stomach, and finally joining the other liquids in her hot, pink pussy.

“I have a drinking problem,” said Jenny. The men hooted, thinking her side comment was her response for the game.

“Yeah, ya do!” Said one of the men.

“Let’s help her win!” Said another as they pushed another shot glass in her hand and guided it down her throat. Another wanted to see the tour again so he emptied another glass on her perfect, fuck-fantasy body. Groping hands were joined by tongues aching to taste the combined flavor of any bar’s two favorite ingredients—whiskey and hot women.

The tongues were making Jenny breathe heavily. She felt like something had gone wrong, gone too far but she was too heated in pleasure to think about it. At the same time, her drunken haze encouraged her to shut down and let everything happen. Bobbi’s voice broke her reverie.

“I can’t stop men. Have your way with me!” Bobbi demonstrated her mastery of this game by downing another shot without help.

The last few shots suddenly caught up with Jenny. The room swam even more, and she somehow knew there was only one real copy of Bobbi in front of her, not four. Finding a real shot glass on the table was nearly impossible. Something splashed her face.

“Hey!” Jenny slurred. Someone had just jizzed on her face. She put her whole palm against her face to feel it as she drunkenly wobbled in her seat. Jizz didn’t go there. She was a Battle Hooker, dammit. She had powers to control this. Of course! All she had to do was will the drunkenness away. She had nearly lost when she didn’t have to.

Nothing happened.

Actually, some more shots from the past caught up with her. Was she not fast enough? The men were telling her to take her turn. They helped her find the glass and down the liquid within. It was time to speak, or lose.

“Why...can’t I...get...not...drunk?”

Suddenly, Bobbi looked as if she hadn’t had a single drink all night. “Because you’re not stronger than me. You big silly!”

“Huh? Haaaah!” Jenny shivered in her seat as someone’s tongue licked the whiskey off her clit. She felt another load of cum land on her tits. She loved it when men did that. Wait, didn’t Bobbi say that? Everything they said during the whole contest—the ribald comments, the self-deprecations, the reduction of themselves to sex objects—all of it blurred together in her mind.

Bobbi reached over the waistband of Daniel’s pants and pulled out a white rope of semen. She had it all dangling from her fingertip, even the fluids that had been absorbed by fabric.

“You had sex in my bar. Now you’re mine. I bet you didn’t see his eyes.” She didn’t. Daniel’s head was in her chest at the time.

Jenny felt her hair get grabbed to point her eyes straight at Bobbi. When another man shot his load on her cheek, she saw Bobbi’s eyes glow a bright yellow.

Jenny tried to get up. She was very strong, and in the name of the Raw Power of Sexuality, Anima could give her more strength. She’d seen Breakrave bench press 350 on a good day even though her arms were no larger than your average slender, sexy dancer’s. It was too late. Bobbi’s clever plan had replaced her strength with inebriation when she wasn’t looking.

The men easily caught her arms and pushed her back down in the chair. She felt a hot burst of liquid spray onto her upper thighs as the man between her legs stood up and switched out with another.

“Hey, you. Shhtop whach’ure doing. I’m a Battle...ing Hooker. I’ma beet you all up.” The men laughed at her feeble protests. She was too drunk to move, too steeped in pleasure to think, and too covered in cum to make anyone think she wasn’t here to be fucked. The new tongue between her legs made her body dance in between her weak objections.

When Jenny was no longer able to let out anything other than moans of pleasure they lifted her up and bent her over the shot-glass covered table. Glasses and booze spilled everywhere as they cleared a giant landing space for her big tits. Her round ass hung high in the air, forced on display by her high-heel shoes.

Bobbi spoke. “Keep her drunk and she’s your little fucktoy! You know the trick!”

Someone let Jenny see a bottle of Bacardi 151. A male voice said, “Alcohol is processed in the large intestine, or something. I’m not a doctor. But, you get drunker, faster if we stick this straight in there.” Jenny saw the bottle leave her sight and felt something pressing into her ass. She liked things in her ass. She had just said so in the game. No, all the sex around her was changing her mind somehow. Could Bobbi be that powerful?

They were going to keep her too drunk to resist. She tried to wiggle free, but all she did was wiggle her ass, bottle and all. Someone responded to what he thought was her invitation. Her pussy was already licked until wet and open. When someone finally pushed in, this time she was the one unable to hold back her orgasm. They had her coming and it would only get easier as Bobbi took more and more control. After the orgasm, before the next wave of alcohol destroyed her hopes of resistance once and for all, one last coherent thought entered her head. It was something Breakrave had told her during training:

“...today you’ve been subject to a very precise plan designed to break you sexually. That is how a Battle Hooker fights. Most of the time it isn’t a magick circle, it’s when you least believe you’re in trouble.”

Daniel, the man Bobbi stole, the man she was going to use for her own ends had his cock in front of her mouth. “How about a Little Oral, Annie?” The redhead opened her mouth and complied. When it was over, he made her call him “Daddy.”

“Yay, we have another girl!” Said Bobbi. “Take her upstairs for—“ She giggled as someone dumped a load on Jenny’s back. “—loads more fun!”