The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Elephant in the Closet

by Pan

Chapter 2:

That night, as Simon was giving me my weekly massage (another of his many talents—I swear, he has magic hands) I rolled over and gave him a saucy smile.

“Mmm?” he said, and I really couldn’t tell if he was feigning cluelessness or if he genuinely didn’t know what I was getting at.

“Rub me there,” I purred. “I want you to get me off…”

“Karen,” he sighed, “if this is about the lesbian thing…”

“No,” I replied as earnestly as I could. “I want you to get me off. No…I need you to get me off.”

“Fine,” he said with a roll of the eyes, “but this doesn’t prove anything.”

As he touched me between my legs, I arched my back, moaned, and did everything that I could to convince him that I was the most hot-blooded woman imaginable, delighted by his touch. Honestly, it wasn’t like I was pretending—I’d never had a man touch me there, and he really seemed to know what he was doing. I came once, twice, and managed to persuade him to bring me to a third shuddering orgasm before he withdrew his fingers, soaked with my juices, and turned away.

I lay in the living room panting with pleasure, my mind racing. What else could I do to convince Simon?

The next morning, I woke him up with another blow-job. But this time, I insisted that he returned the favor, thrashing in pleasure as his tongue explored my folds.

“Doesn’t count,” he said after he was done. “After all, that’s what lesbians do.”

Unlike the previous day, however, I didn’t change out of my sexy underwear. I spent the rest of the day with my panties soaked, staring at his body whenever and wherever I could. I didn’t get dressed until my afternoon acupuncture—Simon has some friend who gives me a special discount. He’s great, but the needles have this weird smell, and it always leaves my body tingling and my mind a bit fuzzy.

As soon as I got home, I stripped off again, and when I saw the tent in Simon’s underthings, insisted on stripping them off and blowing him once more.

Simon cooked dinner that night, and maybe I was just hungry from my efforts, but it seemed to taste better than any meal I’d ever had. I ate more of the addictive food than I can ever remember eating in one sitting, and when I was done, sat down to watch a movie Simon had picked out for us, feeling pleasantly full.

He came and joined me, and as the film played, I leaned over, unzipped his pants, and spent the whole movie casually playing with his dick.

When the film was done (weirdly, I didn’t take in a single thing that happened—I guess I was just distracted!) Simon got up, turned the lights on, and sat in front of me.

“Karen,” he said earnestly, “we need to talk. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. If you say you’re straight, I believe you—all of this is just too much.”

“What are you talking about?” I pouted. “I’m just acting how I want to act…”

“…like a straight girl,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, I get it. But seriously, Kaz—stop.”

If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s reading subtext, and Simon’s was clear. He was saying that no matter what I did, I’d never be able to prove to him that I was straight. That I might as well give up now, save myself the effort.

The poor guy had seriously underestimated how determined I was.

I didn’t say a word, just reached behind me, unzipped my bra, and smiled as his eyes fell and he stared at my perky tits. I took his hands and pulled them to my nipples, my mouth falling open with pleasure as he began to roll them between his fingers.

Leaning forward, I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled his rapidly-hardening cock out. With a cheeky smile, I winked at him and took him into my mouth.

“Do you have a condom?” I whispered after several minutes of fellatio, and again felt the sting of his smirk.

“What??”

“You don’t?” he asked, and I immediately saw what he was getting at. Before I could respond, however, he’d pulled a condom out of his pocket, and watched as I inexpertly rolled it over his cock, before lowering my own panties and sitting on top of him.

Though my hymen had been broken a long time ago, his cock was the first that had ever entered me, and I winced a little as he entered me. Fortunately, I was more than wet enough, and as his length slid inside me, I was unable to stop myself from moaning with pleasure.

It just felt so good. No wonder this is so popular, I told myself with a laugh, before turning my brain off and focussing on what I was doing.

As I bounced up and down Simon’s cock for the first time, it wasn’t hard to bring myself to orgasm over and over again. I’ve never had any difficult cumming, and it was a relief to discover that it was still the case when there was a man inside of me.

The indicators that Simon was getting close to cumming were becoming increasingly familiar to me, and I hefted one of my breasts to his mouth just before he did, surprised to find myself making a small squeaking sound that I’d never made before as he sucked on my nipple.

One final, huge orgasm rippled through my entire body, causing my toes to curl and my scalp to tingle, and as I came down from my climax, Simon grunted, and I knew that he was filling the condom with his spunk.

In what I secretly thought was quite an inspired move, I clambered off him, carefully pulled the condom off, and emptied it into my mouth, smacking my lips as I tasted his delicious goo.

Simon didn’t say anything—no “Hey, you’re totally straight,” no “Sorry for doubting you”—nothing, just a small smile, a nod of thanks, and a long thoughtful look as he left the room.

I lay naked in the living room for close to twenty minutes, before shrugging and following Simon to his room. If he was up to it, we’d fuck again, and if he wasn’t, then I was sure he’d enjoy the warmth of my naked body as we slept.

Besides, it would save me a trip across the hall the next morning.

* * *

The next day was Monday, and so after giving Simon a morning blow-job and a quick fuck in the shower, I rode to work, my head buzzing the whole way. Was riding a bike dykey? Did other people think I was a lesbian as well? My co-workers? My parents? My friends?

I spent the whole day looking at everyone, trying to guess what they thought of me. I watched the women walk, talk, and mentally took notes, so I could ape them as closely as possible. I even considered slipping out during my lunch break to buy a porno tape. I could watch it in the conference room, take a few notes and see what I could learn…before lunch hit, fortunately, I realized how much trouble that would get me in if I got caught.

When I got home, the house was empty, and I set about making some changes. My room was the first victim of my newfound resolve—I took down my poster of k.d. lang, threw out all my sensible shoes, and even considered taking out my piercings.

Short of getting my tattoo lasered off, I didn’t know what else I could do.

One trip to my nearest department store later, and my room’s transformation was complete. Gone was anything even slightly masculine, and in its place was nothing but pink, pink, pink. Pink and girly—that was the new me.

I’d kept the air freshener Simon had bought me—it sat next to my bed, and every few minutes emitted an extremely sweet-smelling odor. At first I’d found it annoying, but I had quickly gotten so used to the strange smell that I’d actually missed it last night, sleeping in my roommate’s bed.

My wardrobe had also been almost entirely replaced—gone were my khaki shorts and flip-flops, and in their place were miniskirts, tube tops and high heels.

I was even, for the first time in a long time, wearing make-up.

When Simon got home, I’d considered greeting him in my underwear again—or even just completely nude—but instead decided to show off my new acquisitions, and worn a pair of five-inch heels, a denim skirt so short that it flashed my thong underwear every time I bent over, and a crop-top that bared the bottom of my breasts.

Obviously I was bra-less.

As soon as he opened the door, I was in his arms—I think he reacted on instinct: men, I suspect, tend to do that when a soft, scantily-clad woman greets them with a kiss. He picked me up, returned my kiss with gusto, and took me straight into his bedroom.

“Mmm,” I moaned as he lay me down and began undressing me, covering my skin with kisses as he did.

“Condom?” I added, as he took his pants off, and brought my hand to his erection where it enthusiastically wrapped around his hardness.

“Of course,” he said, and the smirk was back.

I sat up, brushing his hand off my thigh (nice though his touch was).

“What?” I said, annoyed. “What is that meant to mean?”

“It’s just…look, like I said, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to prove yourself to me—no matter what, you’ll always be the same Karen to me. Who cares if you’re a lesbian?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The condom! Come on…who do you think you’re feeling? You don’t want my penis to touch your privates. And like I said, that’s fine. So you’re not attracted to men? I say do whatever makes you happy.”

I glanced down at the small piece of latex he’d pulled out of his pocket, and hesitated for a moment.

“Seriously,” he repeated, in that patronizing tone that drove me up the wall. “It’s fine.”

I took the condom out of his hand, and threw it against the wall.

“I want to feel you inside of me,” I hissed. “I want to feel your flesh against mine. Nothing would make me happier. Nothing would turn me on more.”

I could tell that he wasn’t convinced, but as he rolled me over and lined his unprotected cock up with my entrance, I kept going.

“Do it,” I said fiercely. “Fuck me. Fuck me bareback. Do it, Simon, please—I need to feel your jizz inside of me. I want to feel you cumming in my exposed pussy. I’m not on the pill, did you know that?”

He clearly didn’t, and hesitated, but I reached up and pulled his body onto mine, shuddered with pleasure as I felt his cock split my pussy in two.

“Oh yes,” I said, my husky voice now whispering directly into his ear. “Do it. Cum inside me, Simon. Knock me up. Give me your baby…”

“Are you sure you and your girlfriend don’t want to adopt?” he replied jokingly, and it took every ounce of self-control in my body not to slap him.

Wrapping my legs around him, I pulled him deeper and deeper into my bare cunt each time he thrust forward. As part of my make-over that day, I’d shaved for the first time—my legs, my pits, my pussy—everything. I’d wanted to be hairless and smooth for Simon, but I’d forgotten to even show him before we began to fuck.

For a moment, I glanced at the strange device beside Simon’s bed, pointing straight at us. Was that new? I hadn’t noticed it before—it was covered in small lights, and they seemed to be glowing in time with Simon’s thrusts. Before I could focus too much on it though, the pleasure began to overtake my body, and my eyes fluttered closed.

I swear I saw lights as I came, blinking and throbbing. I climaxed again and again, my hips pushing forward to meet Simon, loving the feeling of his chest as it came in contact with my nipples with each thrust. My orgasms grew and grew, getting longer and more intense each time I came, but when I knew Simon was getting close, I opened my eyes—I wanted to watch him cum, I wanted to see his face when he finally believed that I was straight, that I wasn’t a lesbian.

As Simon came, I matched it with an orgasm of my own—the most intense that I’d had with him so far. Almost immediately, he pulled out of me, and presented me with his still-hard (but rapidly softening) cock.

He didn’t need to tell me what to do—I took it in my mouth, savoring every drop of our shared juices that I could taste. This wasn’t the first time that I’d tasted my own juices, not by a long shot, but there was something deeply erotic about his cum mixing with mine.

I looked at him expectantly, and he began to laugh.

“Okay,” he said finally, after his chuckles had died down. “You win: I believe you. You’re not a lesbian. Holy fuck, that was amazing.”

“Yeah,” I said with a grin. “Again?”

We fucked twice more that night—I had some of the most powerful orgasms that I’d ever experienced, and I could tell that Simon’s were just as intense. Afterward we lay there, just holding each other’s naked bodies, and I listened to Simon’s breathing as he drifted off to sleep.

When I was confident that he was out for the night, I slipped out of bed and into the hallway and called Leslie.

“Don’t worry,” I whispered as she answered with a sleepy “Hello?”

“Our secret is still safe…”