The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

16

Maeve felt delightfully but absolutely exhausted. She could not help yawning as ninety-six naked, giggling sorority sisters obediently fell into line, each waiting her turn to pass into Mab’s realm and into complete sexual submission. The long evening had started when Maeve, Nancy, and Deena had decided that, willing as they were and capacious though their lust might be, they would need at least a little help in dealing with eight hundred to a thousand people at the big end-of-the-year dance. The girls of Theta Delta Omega were the obvious solution, for several reasons: Nancy harbored a mild grudge against the sorority because seven years earlier, when she was an undergraduate at another school, they had turned her down for membership. Deena was interested because the TDO’s were glamorous, rich, and notoriously snobby—and she said she would enjoy being able to dominate the little bitches. And to Maeve their numbers were just right: with them, the Fairy Queen would have a total of 99 seductresses to work the big dance, and ten partners each would be child’s play, once they were all inducted and once they had tasted the fairy milk of Mab.

So it had been an extremely busy evening. Early on, the three friends had showed up at the TDO house with an offer of free makeovers . . . and that wasn’t precisely a lie. A few of the TDO’s knew the girls from class or from around campus, and they were completely astounded at how, well, sexy Maeve and Nancy and Deena had become. It’s all in the makeover, the three had promised. You’ll see. We can make you even lovelier than you are now. Just put yourself in our hands.

So first they took the three most intrigued girls into a room to work on them. . . and in half an hour those three were enslaved to Maeve’s will. Then the six of them took six more . . . and the twelve took twelve more . . . and now all ninety-nine TDO’s had tasted the milk of surrender and were ready for Mab’s loving attention. Maeve well knew that a little time in the fairy realm was all the sorority girls needed to become utterly abandoned, eagerly wanton servants. It was a good night’s work.

Someone came up behind Maeve and gently stroked her ass. She turned sleepily and saw it was Nancy. “Hey,” Nancy whispered, “you’re dead on your feet. Why don’t you go home and let us finish up here for you?”

“You sure?” asked Maeve, trying to stifle another yawn.

“We can handle them,” Nancy promised with a wink, patting Maeve’s bottom reassuringly.

That’s probably true, Maeve reflected, looking down the pink line of coeds. With their heightened sex drives, they would be no trouble at all. Even now they were kissing and caressing each other, nibbling and stroking. At the far end of the hall stood Deena beside the shimmering portal that had once been a floor-to-ceiling mirror. One by one the nude sorority sisters were stepping through into Fairyland. It would take Mab at least a few hours to handle them all, and not until all were entranced would the TDO’s return to this world. And Maeve desperately needed sleep.

“Okay,” she said after a few moments of consideration. “You and Deena take care of things here. Make sure they’ll do anything when they get back—that won’t be a problem, but let’s double-check. Then come straight back to the house as soon as all the girls have returned. Before you leave them, be sure to give them explicit instructions about what they have to do at the dance.”

“We will,” promised Nancy.

“Give me a kiss,” said Maeve with a fond smile at her first and most devoted slave.

Worshipfully, Nancy dropped to her knees and Maeve spread her legs. She arched her back and purred as Nancy gave her a deep, devoted kiss down where it mattered most. Then she patted her friend’s head fondly and left her to her business with the now-complacent sorority girls. As Maeve descended the stair of the sorority house, clothing formed itself around her, so that when she strode out into the late-night evening she wore a demure outfit. Well, demure for her these days: a tight, tight white cut-off tee shirt that hugged the curves of her bouncy boobs, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, together with very short red shorts, and casual white sandals. She climbed into her car, sternly told herself to stay awake for the next few minutes, and drove home at a sedate and safe speed.

It was already past midnight, maybe as late as one-thirty or two in the morning. A thin fog caught itself in the tops of the palms and pines and tore itself to ribbons in the wake of passing cars. Maeve sighed to herself in a satisfied way. She had done well, and she felt as nearly sated as she had in weeks, even after having dealt with all the cocks on the baseball team. Girls could make her cum so much more readily than guys! The taste of more than three dozen pussies lingered on her tongue, the memory of more than three dozen suckling mouths tingled her tits. “Darn it all anyway,” she growled as she turned into the driveway. Twenty minutes earlier, as she was leaving the sorority house, Maeve would have sworn that she didn’t want or need any more sex for a week. Now she was, well, a little horny.

But too tired to cruise for someone to scratch her itch. Too worn-out even to think of masturbating. God, she was so starved for sleep.

She got out of the car and dragged to the house. Her clothing dissolved as she passed through the door, and she all but fell onto the nearest mossy hummock, asleep almost before she was lying down, curled on her side, knees drawn up.

The sound might have awakened her two minutes later or two hours later—she had not dreamed at all, so deeply was she sleeping. But suddenly alert, she sat up blinking in darkness. “Nance? Deena?”

“No, it’s me.” A male voice, deep and leonine, not familiar to her.

“Who’s that?” she asked, and then “Light,” she commanded.

The rosy glow that had replaced electric illumination flooded the grotto. Maeve pushed herself up, looking around. Just inside the door stood a young man unfamiliar to her. He had short ruffled black hair, and he wore black—black polo shirt, black jeans, short black boots. His face was lean and angular, his eyes a most disturbing green. “Who are you?” asked Maeve, feeling a delicious stirring in her loins. However long she had slept, her batteries were pleasantly recharged.

The guy shrugged, taking in her nude form with a slow, insolent, appreciative glance. “Doesn’t matter. I know who you are, though.”

Aware that he was becoming aroused at the sight of her, Maeve tilted her head and shifted her weight, making her tits jiggle provocatively. “I don’t recognize you.”

He took a few steps toward her with a kind of intriguing grace in his stride, movements that promised quiet, coiled muscular power. “You’ve seen me before, but you never paid much attention.” He glanced around with an ironic smile. “You have an unusual taste in decoration.”

Maeve rolled over onto her stomach, bent her knees, raised up on her elbows. She knew very well that she was making a lewdly teasing display of herself: beautiful rounded ass tightening and relaxing as she flexed her knees casually, bountiful, gorgeous breasts on full display, nipples pert and jutting. She eyed the growing bulge in the front of her visitor’s jeans and smiled. “I have lots of talents,” she purred. “Am I still asleep? This seems like a very pleasant dream.”

The stranger was right in front of her. He dropped to his knees, put his hand behind her head, and drew her to him for a long, lingering kiss. His tongue teased hers, and she impishly sucked on it. She put an arm around his neck and stroked his hair, long, lascivious caresses. Her clit was practically buzzing! She felt her pussy flood with moisture in sheer anticipation. This guy, whoever he is, was all male, so masculine that he seemed to produce his own musky aura. Maeve found herself turned all the way on.

“Wanna fuck me?” she asked breathlessly as they broke the kiss at last.

Smiling, the guy crossed his arms and shucked his polo shirt. His chest was broad and hairy, his pecs impressive.

“I’ll help,” Maeve said, her mouth dry. She swung up as her visitor stood and dropped his shirt, and she moved her legs around and bent forward as she undid his jeans with trembling fingers. As she did that, he kicked out of his ankle boots and stood before her barefoot. Maeve peeled his jeans down—he was going commando, she saw at once—and gasped as she revealed a magnificent cock, thick and long and already erect and bobbing. She could not resist leaning forward and kissing it respectfully. The aroma of it was heady, the taste divine.

“Turn over,” the guy said in a rough whisper as he stepped free of his jeans.

Obediently, Maeve rolled onto her tummy. It was clear that this man was going to offer her no warming up, no foreplay at all—but she didn’t need it! Her pussy was ready for him. She felt him grab her upper thighs and put her toes on the floor and pushed her ass up and then he stabbed slickly, deeply into her.

“Awww, yeah!” she gasped, awed at how completely this stranger filled her. “Awww, fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

He pounded into her, and she gloried in it, fucking him just as hard as he did her, pressing back, reveling in the bawdy slapping of his thighs against hers, in the thumping of his pubis against her ass. Wickedly, she moved in sexy little circles, consciously tightening her pussy on his long and slippery cock. “Yeah!” she shouted, throwing her head back, quivering, already on the verge of cumming.

He had released his hold on her thighs now that they were perfectly positioned. She felt one of his hands grip an ass cheek, squeezing hard, so hard that it hurt—but the mild pain became blended with blinding pleasure! The other hand raked down her back, scratching her not hard enough to break the skin, but raking down maddeningly. He was driving her crazy!

Then, quite unexpectedly, he changed his rhythm, fucking her very deliberately, very slowly, with teasing power but so leisurely that she had the exciting illusion that his cock had suddenly grown longer by half again. She groaned with ecstasy as he pressed forward and seemed to penetrate to her very center! He was in a kind of crouch, and the hand that had been kneading her buttock slipped slyly around and the fingers flicked and teased at her clit, and she had the most intense orgasm of her life, clitoral and vaginal all at once. She lost control, thrashing in spasms that she could not master. She saw stars, she clenched her pussy involuntarily down on him, she gasped and screamed inarticulately, and within her she felt the jerking of his cock as he too spasmed and shot hot cum into her, filling her, heating her.

He drew slowly out, and she sank down on her knees, gasping, panting, her torso bent over the hummock, her breasts flattening against the violet-strewn grass. “That was great,” she sighed, thinking that now she needed to turn around, pull him to her, let him nuzzle her breasts to get the flow started. And then he’d suck them and he would be hers. God, she’d keep him forever once he was enslaved! Whoever he was, he was—wait a minute.

The hummock felt wrong. She opened her eyes, woozily. She was kneeling on the old carpet, not on grass at all, and the violet-strewn bank she hugged had reverted to the sofa. What the hell?

She got up, feeling his warm seed leaking from her, oozing down the inside of her thighs. The living room had partly returned to its original form. The sofa and a little patch of carpet had gone back to their mundane state, though the rest of the dark grotto still waved with soft grass and bloomed with flowers. “Who are you?” she asked, glaring at the smiling naked man who stood—tantalizingly, even now, when she felt so outraged, she wanted to pull him close and suck his cock—stood only inches away.

He shrugged “Call me Ty. I can make you cum again if you’d like.”

Yes!

“No,” she said, but she had against all volition reached out to caress his slick cock, and she felt it throb promisingly beneath her fingers as it stirred back to life again. In a thick, lust-choked voice, she demanded, “Who—who are you? Why did you come here?”

“I came to make you cum,” he said simply. “And I came so someone else could come too.”

“Someone else?” she asked, squeezing his now erect cock, breathing hard. “Who would that be?”

And from the darkness of the grotto, a sexy masculine voice rumbled, “That would be me.”