The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Geas

This is a work of fiction, intended for mature adults who enjoy hypnoerotic fantasy. This story contains adult language and themes, including erotic mind control, masturbation and sex, all of which (as you know) will rot your mind and cause hair to grow in unlikely places. Proceed at your own risk. If you’re under the age of consent for your area, we’ll all just assume that you’re here by accident. Just keep hitting the back button on your browser; I’ll let you know when it’s okay to stop.

Chapter 1: Lindsey’s Story

Something was definitely up with Mara. And it wasn’t the usual boredom from listening to our social studies teacher drone on and on.

My seat is two back and one over from hers, giving me a near-perfect view while still letting me look like I’m actually paying attention. And believe me, I’ve memorized that view, since I’ve had a girl-crush on Mara from since I first knew what girl-crushes were. So, about five years now.

Normally she slumps back, one pale leg extended, letting her red hair drape over the back of the seat, doodling in her spiral notebook while pretending to take notes. But today she was slouching forward, both legs flat on the floor, her knees slightly apart and her cheerleading skirt riding up a bit. Her hands were flat on the desk, her blue eyes were half closed, and it looked like her mouth was slightly open; her breathing may have been a bit ragged, and from the side view I had, her ample chest seemed a bit fuller than usual.

Every so often she’d squirm, and once in a while her well-toned thighs would clench a couple of times in a row, almost like they were having a spasm. I felt sorry for her; it looked like she was having either tummy trouble, or a really bad time of the month. Either way, I knew what that felt like.

But then, during one of those spasms, Mara let out a small grunt, almost like she was clearing her throat. And I started to wonder if something else might be going on. But before I could consider it, Mr. Schein interrupted with, “So what was the historical importance of the Rosetta Stone? Anyone? Anyone? Lindsey?”

That was me. Bespectacled frizzy-haired nerd girl with all the answers. “Well, by presenting the same message in three languages, including ancient Greek, it allowed modern historians to translate Egyptian hieroglyphics and provided us with a window into their culture.”

“Very good, Lindsey. And who can name the third language on the Stone? Anyone? Anyone? Mara?”

“...huh? Oh. Um, uh... G-g-gaelic?” It wasn’t like her to stutter. Once again, I began to wonder.

Mr. Schein chuckled. “Wrong part of the world. No, it was Demotic, which would eventually lead to modern Egyptian. And who discovered the Rosetta Stone? Anyone?”

My own reputation once again secure, I went back to observing Mara.

By the end of class I was sure something was up; I just wasn’t sure what. So I took my time packing up my books, intending to leave when she did, and maybe find out from the horse’s mouth. But that plan almost got blindsided by Rishaun Wilkinson, varsity b-baller and our school’s number three jock.

“Yo, Mara! You and the cheer squad wanna join me and the boys down at Mill Creek after practice? We’ll bring the beer, y’all bring your pom-poms, ha ha. —Hey, you okay there, girl? You ain’t lookin’ so good.”

Mara was staring at Rishaun like she didn’t even know who he was. Her mouth was moving, trying to form words, but nothing was coming out. I jammed the rest of my books in my bag and walked over and grabbed Mara’s arm. “Sorry, Rishaun, but you’re right; she’s not feeling well. We’re gonna hit the little girl’s room, then I’m taking her to the nurse’s office. If she’s better, she’ll text you later. ’K?”

“’K, nerd girl. It’s cool.” And with that, I tugged Mara out of the room and into the hallway.

She seemed perfectly willing to follow my lead, but she was also trying to walk on very shaky legs. I half-guided, half-carried her to the smaller bathroom down near the end of the hallway. It didn’t see a lot of traffic, being out of the way and all, so it was probably cleaner. And hopefully not as busy.

While we were making our way there, I took the opportunity to glance down at Mara’s more than ample chest. Her boobs were rising and falling like she’d just run a marathon, and her nipples looked rock hard. What the actual fuck?

We shuffled into the bathroom, which as I’d hoped was empty. As soon as the door swung shut, I braced her against the window ledge and asked, “All right, Mara. What the hell is going on?”

Instead of answering, her eyes closed, her jaw dropped and her legs clenched; and I smelled a very intimate and familiar smell. Holy hell, did my girl-crush just cum? Right in front of me? Just the idea of it made me start to tingle.

This was my number one sexual fantasy come to life: Mara in front of me and in heat. But I already knew she didn’t swing that way, and as far as she knew neither did I. So instead of straight-up enjoying the moment, I was half turned on, half paranoid that I was being set up somehow, and one hundred percent confused as fuck.

After another half-minute or so, her blue eyes opened. She stood up, took a deep breath, and brushed her red hair out of her eyes. She then looked at me and said, “Please.”

“Please? Please what?”

“Please... help me.” She grabbed my hand and started dragging it toward her stomach. Possibly lower.

As much as I wanted to let her do that, I had to protect my reputation in case this really was a setup. So I jerked my hand back and whispered, “Mara! The fuck are you doing?”

“This.” She grabbed my hand again, this time with both of hers. Despite my strength, not to mention my better judgment, she pulled it down between her legs, where I got an unexpected shock: her groin was not only wet, it was thrumming.

I guess it was my turn to stand there with my mouth open, looking stunned and clueless. “Wh-whaa? You have a,” ‘vibrator’ sounded so crass, even under the circumstances, “a toy inside of you? What; why? Did someone put you up to this?“

She pressed my hand against her groin even harder. “I-I can’t,” she stuttered.

Can’t what? I thought. Can’t grab it? Can’t stop? Can’t tell me what’s going on? My mind raced to figure out my next move, even as my braless nipples puckered up under my thick cotton ‘Dr Whom’ tee shirt and my own juices started seeping.

Fear of discovery finally unlocked my paralysis. Ignoring Mara’s death grip on my hand, I spun her around and guided her into the right-hand stall. I sat down on the seat, mentally crossing my fingers that it was reasonably clean. At least this way, my hand was pressing upwards, and I didn’t need to hunch over.

“Keep quiet, okay?” I said, and Mara nodded. Figuring I’d give her what she obviously wanted, I lifted her skirt and cupped her crotch, pressing two fingers into the wet center of her panties. I jiggled and rubbed, and her grip on my arm quickly turned into a rocking motion of its own. Her juices gushed — she may even have peed a little — and in just over a minute, her mouth formed a soundless O as she came. Again.

Still pretending I was just doing her a very weird favor, I asked, “Was that what you wanted?” Even before she could respond, we both heard the bathroom door start to open. I scooted back and lifted my feet onto the seat, even as I spun my finger in a circle. Mara nodded and turned around; if whoever came in happened to glance under the stall, it would look like there was only one girl there, peeing.

Whoever it was did her business quickly and left; thank goodness it wasn’t a group, or they would’ve been chatting up a storm and pounding on the door for us to hurry up, and our cover would’ve been blown. Once she was gone, I turned Mara around and said, “Okay, I think it’s time to take that thing out now. Or at least turn it off.”

Mara shook her head. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, can’t? You can’t reach it? Or are you playing some sort of sick game where you have to keep it in?”

“No, it’s n-not that. I, I can’t.” Her baby blues were starting to water, threatening to ruin her mascara.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I whispered, more harshly than I’d intended. “I’m taking the damn thing out; you can tell your lover-boy later that it wasn’t your idea.” I yanked her soaking wet panties down to her knees — and momentarily caught my breath at the stunning sight of a wet pink pussy surrounded by a natural dark red thatch. Not to mention that fucking scent! I had to swallow quickly, twice, to hide how much my mouth had started to water.

Before Mara could suspect my true motives, I reached my thumb and finger up into her channel. The sex toy didn’t feel that big, but it was wedged up in there further than I thought. Mara gasped and her knees buckled; half straddling my legs, she jammed her lips onto mine.

I was dumbfounded; the prettiest girl in the senior class — hell, in the whole damn school! — was planted awkwardly in my lap, in a school restroom in the middle of the day, trying her damnedest to tickle my uvula with her tongue even while I had half my hand up her snatch, unavoidably jilling her off even while trying to pull some sort of vibrating sex toy out from deep inside her!

Fuck it, I thought, and just went with it. I popped my thumb out from her pussy and began rubbing all around her clit, even as my tongue started wrestling hers back. Mara shuddered, and I felt her swollen nipples pressing into the tops of my far more modest breasts, right through three layers of clothing: my shirt, her cheerleader top and her bra.

Other than with the kiss, Mara didn’t try to return any sexual favors, which I kind of understood; what with that thing still buzzing around inside of her and my hand rapidly bringing her back to nirvana, she probably didn’t have a lot of brainpower left to spare. It didn’t matter, though; just the idea of fulfilling a five-year mission in such a sudden and unexpected way had my own nipples standing tall, my clit erect and my juices flowing freely.

With my left hand, I awkwardly unsnapped my jeans, shoved it under my panties and began rubbing myself; it was trickier than expected to play with two pussies at the same time, until I simply started mimicking my right hand’s movements with my off hand. Moments later, my grunts matched hers, our tongues pretty much lying dead in each other’s mouth as we put all of our physical and mental energy into getting ourselves over the top as soon and as hard as possible.

While Mara shuddered, her snatch clamping around my finger from her third climax in under ten minutes, I felt a wet gush as my own pussy started to spasm. I jerked forward repeatedly, held in place on the toilet seat only by my redheaded lover’s weight on my lap. Instead of jerking her hips as well, Mara wrapped her arms around my neck and shoulders, pulled her face away (leaving a thick but brief line of drool between our tongues) and arched her back, thrusting her still-covered hooters up to the sky. She clenched, and clenched again... and the damn thing that had been humming inside of her this whole time just plopped right out of her snatch and into my now cum-covered cupped hand, shutting itself off in the process.

Whatever the hell it was, it was rubbery, flesh-colored but shiny, about the size and shape of a wine bottle cork, and didn’t appear to have any buttons or switches. Or even a battery compartment. I looked up at Mara, all set to ask her what was up and where this was going from here, when the second big shock of the day happened.

The moment our eyes met, hers rolled back into her head. She stiffened like a statue, and a very masculine and very Irish brogue began issuing from her mouth.

“Congratulations, whomever ye are! I want ye to know that you’ve passed me test, won the lottery, and earned yourself a top shelf, state of the art love slave. This lass — Moira, I believe was her name? — struck me as being quite fetching, but not very purposeful; she’s unlikely to succeed on her own, and wants for someone else to give her life meaning.

“I already have quite the harem; and if I took in every stray puppy I found, I’d soon run out o’ room. So instead, this mornin’ I set her up with the plug, and the geas, and sent her along. As per me wishes, she couldn’t remove it herself, or change up her routine; if she made it through the day without anyone taking advantage, she’d be free of its spell. But since you’re hearing this, she obviously didn’t!

“To add a wee bit o’ spice to the pot, I made it so that the plug could only be removed by someone who had strong feelings for her; otherwise, she’d just keep getting passed along, becoming less and less of herself and more and more of a toy. That’s why I said ye won the lottery, me friend; Moira — no, Mara; that’s right, her name be Mara — must hae been your dream girl.

“So I salute ye, and wish ye luck with your new love slave; I’ll accept your thanks in absentia. Don’t bother looking for me; we’ve never met, and after this you’ll nae hear from me again. Ta ta!”

Mara’s eyes rolled back down, her body unlocked, and she looked at me with genuine love in her eyes. “Thank you, Mistress Lindsey, for saving me from Rishaun and the basketball team. If I’d gone down to Mill Creek and given in to their roaming hands, my life would’ve been over.” She extended her arms, helping me up; then she threw her arms around my shoulders and kissed me again, this time thumbing both of my still-tingling nipples to punctuate our new relationship.

As we broke off the kiss, I sputtered, “B-but I didn’t think you were into me, Mara. Into girls at all, in fact.”

“I wasn’t.” She kissed me once more, a gentle peck on the lips. “And I’m still not, except for you. Unless you tell me otherwise, that is. That’s the terms of the geas: now that I’m yours, I’m subject to your every command. You can mold me to your whim, and do with me as you please.”

“Now that you’re mine?” I protested. “You mean you’re really my sex slave now? And you’re fine with it? Can I at least set you free, to just be my girlfriend if you want?”

Mara smiled. I swooned. “That’s right, I am, I am, and you can’t. That’s the one cap on your power, as part of the geas itself. I literally live to serve you, Mistress, and can’t wait to see what you have in mind for me.”

She stood up and tried to take a step back, and almost stumbled from her panties, which were still around her knees. “So what should I do about these, Mistress? They’re really too wet to pull back up, but I will if you insist.”

Mine were pretty soaked too, but at least I was wearing jeans rather than a short skirt. Perks of not being part of the in crowd, I suppose. “Take them off and give them to me, and then dry yourself best you can. They’re going to be our special memento of this day, the start of our relationship.”

“Yes, Mistress!” Her hug almost bowled me over; then she reached down and yanked them off as fast as she could before reverently offering them to me.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Hmm. I think I like being called Mistress, but definitely not in public. In fact, it’d probably be best to hide our whole relationship for a while, if for no other reason than to not freak everyone else out. So for now, let’s both finish the school day as if nothing happened; you’ll tell the other cheerleaders, Rishaun and anyone else who asks that you’re still not feeling well, and then come over to my house after school. How does that sound?”

“Perfect, Mistress! I mean, Lindsey. I can’t wait to start serving you! And here’s a small token of what to expect....” She shoved her tongue back down my throat, followed seconds later by her left hand into my panties via the still-unbuttoned fly of my jeans. Even as my hips twitched forward and my juices gushed all over her jiggling fingers, a small part of me realized that she’d probably started with the kiss on purpose, to prevent me from telling her to stop. And now of course, stopping was the last thing I wanted her to do.

Within seconds, as I felt the onset of my very first climax from someone other than myself, I prayed that no one else would come. Fortunately for all concerned, the only one who came right then was me. And maybe Mara, a little. “Unnngh,” I grunted into my new slave’s mouth, even as my pussy clenched around her upthrust fingers, soaking them for all they were worth. Along with my panties, the toilet seat, and lord knows what else. As I slumped back down, temporarily drained, Mara released the kiss and smiled, licking her fingers and palm with broad strokes and obvious relish.

A very short time after that, we’d both managed to wash and straighten up (very minor pun intended) and my own drenched panties had been tucked away at the bottom my book bag, right next to Mara’s. Even as I was buttoning back up my jeans, I was thinking about how the little minx’d pay for that later. Oh yes she would.

This is part one of two.