The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Diane blinked. She turned to look at Greta, who was standing at the side of the bed.

“Hello, darling.” Diane turned her gaze up toward Greta’s face, and saw her warm smile. “Now, just one bit of business to take care of. Who are you working for?”

“Promethicorp.”

She spoke calmly, without hesitation. The answer agreed with what Greta already suspected from studying the gear she’d had on her when caught.

Diane was hers, mind and body.

“We can discuss the details later.” Greta lifted the helmet from Diane’s head, then began unbuckling the leather band fastened around her left wrist. “Now, it’s playtime.”

Quickly and systematically, Greta began untying her. She stretched her leg to work a bit of stiffness out of it, and felt Jasmine’s hands kneading her thigh as Greta walked around the bed to undo the remaining manacle.

Greta ran her fingers across Diane’s scalp. The thought that her hair must look a mess after being under the helmet crossed her mind, and then she just relaxed and let herself enjoy the touch.

“This is a very special evening for you, Diane. We want you to enjoy your first lesbian experience.”

The words triggered a memory. It was something that had disturbed her at the time, but now seemed rather intriguing.

“I have an idea.” Diane looked a bit abashed, then continued. “If you’re willing to go along with it, I mean.”

Greta paused a moment. Was Diane still resisting, and stalling for time? No, she decided; her attitude and body language were genuinely aroused and receptive. Greta had been with women who were merely indulging a bi-curious impulse, or yielding sexual favors as part of a bargain. They always showed signs of self-conscious discomfiture that were utterly absent here.

Diane’s hesitation was something different. It was embarrassment that she might be proposing something too kinky for her partner’s tastes. That was... intriguing.

She smiled reassuringly. “What did you have in mind?”

“I... oh, never mind; it’s just silly.” Greta gave her a look that made it clear that she had no intention of letting the subject drop. After a few seconds, Diane finally blurted it out.

“I want to make this into a keepsake pinup calendar. We’ll need skimpy lingerie for the both of us, and a camera....”

Diane cycled through the first half-dozen pictures. They all looked good, and showed more or less the same pose of herself and Greta playfully glancing at each other. She decided that it would be most fitting to use the very first one.

She considered doing a bit of color-tweaking to make her lingerie blend with her skin tone a bit better, but decided against it. She wanted an authentic memento of the occasion, and the mismatch was a reminder of Jasmine’s willingness to literally lend her the clothes off her back. Luckily, they had fit almost perfectly, being just slightly tight on her.

If she lost five pounds of so, they would be able to share wardrobes and lingerie easily. Yes, that would be nice. She remembered the sensual thrill of watching Jasmine strip out of her bra and panties and then putting them on herself. The silky fabric couldn’t possibly have retained her body heat for even those few seconds, and yet they’d felt delightfully warm.

Diane put the daydream aside. There would be plenty of time to revisit it later, as she appreciated the completed work. She dithered a bit over text color and font, and finally settled on a set of captions for this cover photo. They weren’t quite what she remembered from her earlier vision, but somehow they seemed to express a more appropriate mood:

DIANE fondly recalls every moment of her LESBIAN INITIATION

“If I’d known that being with another woman was this good, I never would have bothered with the boys.”

GRETA welcomes a new companion into the SAPPHIC SISTERHOOD

“There’s something special about guiding a formerly straight gal through her first girlsex experience.”

As she looked over her handiwork, she felt a hand settle onto her shoulder. “Very nice cover,” Greta commented. “Mind if I help you pick out some of the pictures?”

“Not at all. Actually, it’d be nice if you help me with the captions, too—we could alternate back and forth.”

“All right. Just a minute; I’ll be right back.” Greta stepped out, and returned a minute or so later with another wheeled office chair.

Diane has found a promising picture to start the calendar proper. It showed the two women standing close together. Greta had taken Diane’s hand in hers, and the fingers of her other hand idly fiddled with a lock of Diane’s hair.

“Such a demure expression you have!” Greta commented.

Diane grinned. In the photograph, she was looking toward the camera with her eyes cast downwards. That was because while Jasmine was taking the picture, she had been checking out Jasmine’s naked body, and feeling a bit naughty about diverting her attention from Greta. “Demure,” indeed!

But the remark gave her a caption idea. She began typing.

“Turning lesbian means discovering sex all over again... it’s like being a teenager, but without the immaturity and confusion and the trying not to get caught by Mom and Dad.”—Diane

Greta laughed. After she recovered, she took a quick furtive glance at the door, and stage-whispered, “I think the coast is clear!” She leaned forward, and Diane followed suit. They exchanged a quick kiss, more friendly than erotic, and then maneuvered their chairs so that Greta could comfortably use the mouse and keyboard.

She considered the next few photos, and settled on one that showed the two of them in a symmetrical pose, face to face, each with her hands on the other woman’s hip and shoulder. The pair looked like they were partners in a dance... which, in a way, they were.

She added a statement that played off the previous one:

“Turning a girl lesbian is almost like deflowering her all over again. That’s what makes it so hot. It’s the thrill of robbing the cradle without the sleaziness.”—Greta

“That’s an interesting way to look at it.” Diane remarked. She looked thoughtful, as if she was getting ready to say something else, but then let it go. She turned to the computer to select the next scene.

A bit of zooming and cropping composed the chosen image as head-and-shoulder shot. The two of them were leaning toward each other with their eyes closed and their mouths just slightly open.

“I remember one time I kissed my girlfriend at a bar to get the guys hot and bothered. Now, I’m glad to be free of all those old hang-ups about kissing a girl for real.”—Diane

Greta rolled her eyes. “You’d think that guys would be a little less eager to encourage that sort of thing. It might give a gal ideas about not needing them any more!” she chuckled. Diane batted her eyes at her in response.

Still snickering, Greta brought up the very next image, and zoomed it in even tighter, to show a profile closeup of the two women’s faces as their lips and tongues met for the very first time.

“The way you kiss me... all that fire and passion... I can hardly believe that you were ever really straight.”—Greta

As soon as she finished typing, she caught Diane’s eye and tilted her head to the exact same angle as it was in the picture. Again, Diane picked up on her hint, and they joined in an imitation of the kiss displayed on the screen. This was no innocent peck like the one a few moments ago. It was a lingering sensual tongue-wrestle that went on and on until they finally needed to come up for a deep breath.

Diane stretched and took another long slow breath before she settled down to the task of choosing and captioning the next image. Her selection was a full-body view of Greta standing behind Diane and fiddling with her bra strap. Diane was standing on one foot, the other kicked back to rub against her companion’s calf.

“When I felt her starting to tug on my bra, I didn’t feel nervous the way I always did before when I let some guy take it off. I just felt a sense of warmth, and trust.”—Diane

“I’m touched!” Greta beamed. She reached over and rubbed Diane’s ear between her fingers. With her other hand, she clicked past the stages of Diane’s brassiere removal and stopped at a shot of Diane topless and Greta beginning the process of rendering her bottomless as well. Without missing a beat in the ear rub, she composed it to show them from mid-thighs up and inserted the next caption:

“Even if I’ve seen it all before, even if the clothes aren’t really hiding anything, the process of stripping a girl naked is the best part of foreplay.”—Greta

She had originally wanted to dress herself and Diane in elaborate naughty lingerie for the induction process. Jasmine had convinced her that full nudity on both sides would be more effective at bringing the subject’s inhibitions to the surface so that they could be traced and neutralized.

She felt very grateful to whatever corner of Diane’s subconscious had generated the scenario they’d played out.

Diane sighed. “Now, if you have the dexterity to take my clothes off while rubbing my ear at the same time, you could turn me into a gooey pleasure puddle any time you want.”

“And that would be different how, exactly?”

“True.” Diane admitted.

Greta finally let go so that Diane could focus her attention on the next picture selection. She paused for a second over a shot of Greta opening her bra clasp and continued on to a much more interesting moment. Yes, there it was—a nice view of Greta gently but insistently guiding Diane’s hands underneath the fabric that now hung loosely upon her breasts.

“Now I finally understand why guys think a nice pair of boobs is such a big deal. They’re so much fun to play with!”—Diane

Greta skipped the picture of her bra finally falling away, and chose one where her breasts were covered only by Diane’s hands. She reached out with one hand to return the favor, as her other hand began to slide her panties down onto her thighs.

“Yes, dear, this is a lot of fun. But it’s just the warmup for the real entertainment....”—Greta

Diane licked her lips, memories of last night’s “real entertainment” flashing through her mind. Soon, she would be selecting images of their lovemaking, but there was still one step to fill in before that.

She found a rear view of the two of them walking side by side. Diane’s arm was over Greta’s shoulder, and Greta’s hand could be interpreted as either low on Diane’s back or high on her butt. Greta’s other hand pointed forward and to the left, toward the corner of the bed in the background.

Diane stared at the screen for a while, trying to think of a good line to go with the image. Suddenly, she grinned and began typing:

“Turn-ons: Kittens, nice clothes, and going for a walk with my girlfriend. Bigger turn-ons: Pussy, nakedness, and being marched into bed by my girlfriend.”—Diane

“You like me to take charge, do you?” Greta asked in a mock-menacing tone. It was a rhetorical question; it was clear that Diane had a definite submissive streak. Jasmine’s opinion was that being restrained and subjected to the modulator had amplified a tendency that was already there.

“Well, then, I’ll bet you just loved this part!” The picture on the screen showed Diane in Greta’s arms, being set down on the foot of the bed.

Diane did her best to lean back languidly. The office chair didn’t really lend itself to the purpose. She made a valiant attempt, though, brushing back her hair with one hand and licking her lips in a totally over-the-top take-me-I’m-yours look.

Her companion looked pleased, but didn’t take the bait. “Maybe later. Let’s get this finished.” She zoomed and trimmed a bit to emphasize Diane’s position, about to be sat down on the edge of the mattress. She wrote another caption that played on Diane’s preceding one:

“Just follow my lead... sit down, lean back, spread your legs, and learn how a woman pleasures a woman.”—Greta

“Isn’t that supposed to end with ‘...and think of England’?” Diane joked. Greta took her by the hand and play-slapped her wrist. “It had better not!” She leered. “Anyway, you made it perfectly clear that you weren’t ‘thinking’ about anything more complicated that sighs and moans.”

“And how to return the favor,” Diane added.

“No complaints there!” Greta kissed Diane’s hand, then released it so that she could continue with the next photo selection.

Diane remembered Jasmine climbing onto the bed to take a few over-the-shoulder shots, and skipped ahead until she found them. Most of them were ruined by mattress jiggle, but there was one good image. Even zoomed a bit to crop out her shoulder and show only a view from above of Greta kneeling between her legs, it was sharp and clear.

Yes, this was definitely the one. The angle, emphasizing Greta in an uncharacteristically submissive posture, was a nice counterpoint to her usual look.

“One of my friends who’s bi says it’s a waste of time cajoling guys to go down on you, because only another girl really does it right. I guess I’m going to find out....”—Diane

Then it was Greta’s turn. Picking the next picture was easy; Jasmine had caught the perfect moment and angle. Greta’s head was just far enough away to avoid blocking the view of Diane’s waiting snatch, and just close enough that her outthrust tongue seemed to already invade that most personal space.

Every comment she could think of about introducing her partner to the art of cunnilingus seemed far too dry for the topic, like a school lecture. That thought gave her an inspiration:

“Now, pay close attention. This will be on the test....”—Greta

Diane giggled. “I wish I’d taken that kind of test back in college!”

“I hear that at some women’s colleges, it’s an unofficial major.” Greta deadpanned. That completely broke Diane up, and it was at least a full minute before she could get back to the task at hand.

Diane skipped past the images of herself responding to Greta’s stimulation. Jasmine’s knack for capturing just the right shot had finally failed her. Every image was either blurred as she shuddered at just the wrong moment, showed an expression that looked more pained than thrilled, or otherwise simply looked wrong. She also dismissed a couple of uninteresting shots of the two women exchanging places.

Ultimately, she settled on a three-quarter profile view of Greta sitting on the foot of the bed with Diane on one knee in front of her. She had one hand on her other knee to brace herself and the other hand in Greta’s. They stared intently into each other’s eyes. After a couple of false starts, she typed:

“This is where I take the plunge. There’s no way I can pretend that it’s just fooling around, or close my eyes and pretend it’s a man.”—Diane

Greta raised an eyebrow. This was quite a shift from the whimsical tone of the past few entries, and the implicit reservations might reflect some last flickerings of resistance. On the other hand, perhaps she’d simply been reacting to the novelty of the situation. A new lover’s first time with another woman could be just as intimidating as her first time, period.

She reached over and gently kneaded the back of Diane’s neck between her thumb and forefinger. Diane leaned her head back and turned just a bit, directing the pressure to just the right spot.

“Once we’re done here, I’m going to set you up with a Swedish masseuse I know. Once you’ve seen the tits and ass on her, you won’t be able to imagine it’s a man no matter how tight you close your eyes!”

“Oh, really? And just how personal do her massages get?”

“As personal as you want, darling. You should know by now that I’m not the jealous type.” As she saw Diane’s cat-that-ate-the-canary smile, Greta decided that she was just being paranoid about a perfectly innocent—so to speak—turn of phrase. No, Diane was unreservedly into girls now.

She certainly hadn’t shown the slightest hesitation about going ahead with the deed in the moments after this picture was taken. And now it was time to get back to the business of looking over those images.

Lifting her hand from Diane’s neck, Greta focused her attention on the screen and clicked through the next few photos. She chose a rear view of Diane down on both knees between her spread legs. Jasmine must have been on her own knees to get the shot, which was from a low angle that nicely captured the contours of Diane’s rear end.

She annotated the image with a continuation of Diane’s thought:

“Great minds think alike. You’re about to give me the special kiss—mouth lips to snatch lips—that will pop your girl-cherry once and for all.”—Greta

Yes, Diane thought, that was the moment she wanted above all else to memorialize. Diane found for a picture that came as close as possible to depicting the exact instant she had bestowed that “special kiss” on her partner. Not much of her was visible except her hair and back, but that was all right. It was clear enough what she was doing. She waffled between a close-up and the full wide view, and compromised on a framing that included Greta’s tits as another focus of visual interest.

“Well, that settles that. I’m an honest-to-goodness pussy-eating dyke... and it feels so right.”—Diane

“Oh, it felt a lot better than ‘right’!” Greta declared. “I’ve been with women who’ve been munching carpet for twenty years but couldn’t ring my bells anywhere near as hard and fast as you did!”

As she spoke, she clicked through the images until she found one that showed her in the throes of imminent climax, head tilted back, face flushed with excitement, mouth open in mid-moan, breasts thrust forward and prominently displaying erect nipples.

“I’m sorry that Jasmine didn’t get any good pictures of you like this. Maybe I should skip over this part?”

“Don’t you dare!” Diane replied.

Greta did a quick comparison of the picture she’d found and the next one on the series. They were mostly the same, so she chose the one that showed a bit more of Diane’s face.

“Ohhhh... yes! Darling, you’ve just taken the ‘plunge’ into your first muff dive, and this judge awards you a 10!”—Greta

“Oh, you’re just saying that.” Diane chided. “I couldn’t have really been that good. I remember about a half-dozen times when I found the target and then lost it because I had to shift position to get some air.”

Greta began rubbing her companion’s earlobe again. “Don’t sell yourself short. You were giving me a quick flick of the tongue, and a pause, and another quick flick, and a pause, over and over. That’s what gets me revved up for when you finally hit the spot and hold on to it until I cum.” She grinned ferally. “Just another bit of free advice, offered in the spirit of blatant self-interest.”

Diane relaxed. “Okay.” She leaned toward the attention. “I think my ears must be an erogenous zone,” she purred.

“Every creature above the level of a field mouse likes its ears rubbed. I read that somewhere.” She slid her fingertips further up and down Diane’s ear. “It works best with creatures who love and trust you, like a pet.”

“I’ll be your pet anytime,” Diane murmured.

“How about anytime after we finish? I think we just need to find one more picture to close it out.”

The final series of pictures included over a dozen of the two women lying together in bed, cuddled against each other. Diane took a few minutes to find one that struck the right balance between showing them close together and providing the best unobstructed view of both of their bodies. She shot a coquettish glance at her partner as she typed the final caption:

“As we lay in each other’s arms sharing the afterglow, I understood that sexual intimacy with another woman makes me more feminine, not less.”—Diane

“Oh, absolutely!” Greta shifted her hand down to stroke Diane under the chin. “So now we just put these pictures in their own folder... uh oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It looks like we have seventeen pages, not fifteen. Oh, well, we’ll print it as a sixteen-month calendar, with that last page for the back cover. It works.”

Diane shook her head. “I found a few more options for printing personal keepsake calendars. There’s a version that’s a perpetual calendar with insert pockets that lets you mix and match any way you want.”

“I suppose ‘perpetual’ makes sense for a memento.” Greta mused.

“Oh, yes,” Diane agreed.

“I want us to have all the time in the world.”