The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“There’s no way I’m going to take O. Are you out of your mind?”

“I do it all the time,” Mira’s friend Marlene said. She was a blond elite and a woman Mira’s own height. Same rough age, too, not that either of them looked it. Beautiful, naturally. “You won’t believe how good it makes getting fucked!”

“It’ll turn me into a slut,” Mira said, apprehensive.

“No, it won’t. It can’t. You already are one.”

“Cow.”

“Slut.” Both were lying in Mira’s bed, naked after a vigorous round of playtime. Marlene had seemed particularly responsive to Mira’s ministrations (almost slavishly responsive), and when she had remarked on it, Marlene admitted she’d been high on O. “Look, you can have your housecomp scan it, alright? O is perfectly safe so long as you monitor your intake.” Marlene had an ability to convince Mira to do almost anything. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered what being a bioslut would be like. Well, this is the nearest thing.”

Marlene had had her house prepare the O in pill form. It was a simple white tablet, unmarked, all but indistinguishable from hundreds of other drugs Mira had experimented with in her life.

“I don’t want to,” she said, holding the tablet in the palm of her hand.

“Well, I do.” Marlene had one, too, and before Mira could stop her she put the pill in her mouth and swallowed it. She closed her eyes. “It works fast, too. Oh, oh my god.” She clutched her breasts and flopped down on the bed beside Mira. She arched her back. Her hands moved down from her tits to her groin, and she openly began masturbating in front of her lover, climaxing.

Mira’s mouth opened and closed. For a minute, she didn’t know what to do. Then, because she knew she was going to anyway, she took the O.

Marlene didn’t lie. The mutagen’s effects were almost immediate.

It started as a rush of sensation to all of Mira’s erogenous zones. Everything - lips, tongue, nipples, labia, clit - seemed, for lack of a better descriptor, to grow. Not physically - that came later - but definitely in terms of feeling and importance. Yet it wasn’t as if the rest of her body disappeared, though in the immediacy of the O’s powerful influence that was her initial belief (not “thought,” it proved hard to think of anything not sexually related under the influence of O); the whole body is an erogenous zone. The human body is wrapped from head to toe in the most sensitive, most delightfully receptive organ of all, the skin, and Mira’s skin came alive as it had never been before under the O.

Mira touched herself, just a measly touching of herself, and she climaxed. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” The orgasm - the “O” Orgasm - was amazing. And fast. Mira had never “gone off” like that before. And to her further amazement, and delight, and at the time no little trepidation, the pleasure-need did not cease in the afterglow of that climax. If anything, as if building from that initial orgasm, using it as the basis for all that came next, both the pleasurable sensations and her arousal increased dramatically.

The tingling feeling reemerged in her breasts. It came up through her breasts. Mira felt the sensation crest, then sweep down to her sex, like a wave. She spread her legs and let her hands, as if of their own accord, snake toward her pussy. She penetrated herself with her fingers. Her pussy was crying out - figuratively weeping - for a cock to penetrate her. Hot wetness covered her digits. Her juices were tingling. She pinched and fondled her clitoris; a moment later her entire existence was focused on that magnificent, pulsing bud. She could barely discern Marlene doing the same thing next to her, hands between her own thighs and pumping herself like crazy. Mira’s vagina was contracting and throbbing. Her skin was hot. She felt like she was melting. Her nipples were practically on fire!

The two girls’ moans, their screaming, were competitive. They alternated, one growing higher and more piercing as the other diminished.

Every time she touched herself, Mira had a mini-climax. She teased herself. She rubbed herself. She pinched. Nothing had ever felt so good. Her pussy lips parted easily under her manipulating fingers. In turn, though, internally she gripped the digits tightly, as if afraid to let them go. She had to come. She had to. Her thighs tightened. They spasmed. First two fingers inside her, then three. Her hands began moving faster. Her back was arching. When she came - more like, when she erupted - the world went white, and she was incapable of even hearing her own scream.

“Cock,” she whispered a second or two later. “Oh my God, I need a cock inside me.”

Something she could feel inside her. Something she could taste.

Something she could fuck and in turn be fucked with. God, she even wanted to suck a cock. Mira hated having to give blowjobs! But once in her mind the image was impossible to let go of. Mira brought her fingers up to her mouth. She licked at her fingers, marveling at the rich taste of herself. She sucked her digits dry, imagining that she was giving a blowjob to a man.

The sex was good. It was better than good. Sex for Mira had achieved a wholly new plateau, an entirely new dimension. Although she looked twenty, Mira was closer to her forties. She was at an age where sex should not have been all that surprising anymore, or such was her opinion. It was a shock of epic proportions to discover she had been doing it wrong her whole life.

This is sex, she realized. This is what I’ve been missing.

It was staggering.

When Marlene began touching her, though, it got even better.

Her friend’s hand slid up her thigh. Heat filled Mira’s legs and tummy. Mira’s nipples grew so hard they became painful. Her pussy was throbbing, the pleasure so intense it almost was like pain. Marlene crept onto her, bodily, kissing her, hands working at her, between her legs. Her fingers penetrated Mira, and it was better than before, the foreign invasion much better due to the fact that it was someone else fucking her, that she wasn’t just fucking herself. Marlene pushed her way in. Mira’s clitoris seemed like it was ready to burst. When Marlene touched it, curled her finger around it, around her, and squeezed, Mira ignited like a firework. The pleasure-fire burned through her, inside her, the fire settling inside; and it was like Mira’s internal anatomy combusted from the ecstasy. Mira’s hands reached out to grab her friend. She pulled her close, pulled her atop herself. They rubbed their breasts together, and again the sensation was incredible, utterly mind-blowing in its intensity. So soft yet so hard at the same time. The pleasure was so much it became hard to breathe. Mira was hyperventilating. The world spun. Blinding whiteness turned to black. “No, you bitch,” Marlene told her, and slapped her face.

Even the slap felt good.

“You stay awake, you hear? You fuck me. You fuck me good, you bitch.” Yes, yes, Mira thought, liking the fact that Marlene was taking over. That someone else was controlling her. Her friend lowered her breasts onto Mira’s mouth. She sucked at Marlene’s nipples. She ran her tongue over their engorged flesh. It was almost as good as having a cock in her mouth.

Not all her attention was directed upstairs, however. Mira’s hands clutched Marlene’s ass. She ran her hands over her friend’s smooth buttocks, relishing the silkiness of her in an entirely new way. Mira preferred men, but she had never been adverse to a little bedtime with a fine-looking woman of her own class. If sex with a woman under the influence of O was this good, though, she might switch all the way.

On the other hand, if it was this good with a woman, Mira was already salivating to try it with a man.

Her hands slid around Marlene’s hips. Mira’s middle finger found and slid down the bare, swollen lips of her lover’s pussy. She buried her finger inside Marlene, and in turn she contracted around Mira’s digit as she would have a cock, squeezing it, squeezing Mira for all the pleasure she could provide. Marlene settled her weight onto Mira. They came face to face and kissed passionately. Mira’s eyes were closed. She ran her tongue over Marlene, inside of Marlene’s mouth. They bit one another, and it was good. All the while, she continued to finger-fuck her.

Marlene reciprocated. Her hands were warm and accomplished. They knew exactly where to go. They knew exactly what to touch. When Marlene came, Mira came, too; and, mouth to mouth, they breathed their passions into one another, like love itself.

The effect of the O lasted hours. The two women exhausted themselves. Afterwards, Mira lay on her back in bed, legs spread wantonly, arms outstretched to her sides. “Wow,” she whispered. Marlene was on the floor beside the bed asleep and snoring. Mira barely heard her. “Wow,” she said again. Her nipples were still perky.

It was the start of a beautiful relationship.

More than a Year Later:

The medical cubicle opened with a hiss, and a purged Mira stepped out, little wisps of steam accompanying her. She put a hand out to steady herself. Usually, treatment in the cubicle was cursory, lasting a few minutes at most. Mira felt like she had been hours inside the cubicle. It was a paradoxical feeling she had: she felt like she had just run a marathon; it felt like every muscle in her body had been stretched; but there was no pain, nor even any exhaustion. She felt like she always did after a treatment in the cube, refreshed and renewed. Only this time, she also felt ridden, hard. The sensation was almost sexual. She glanced at the housecomp readout, and it confirmed her suspicions. She had been inside the cubicle nearly seventeen hours.

“How do you feel, Ms. Lockard?” the housecomp asked her, in its perpetually polite and insufferable voice. She didn’t respond, and it didn’t prompt her again. The house knew her moods. Mira gazed at her breasts. She examined herself in a mirror. Her mouth trembled.

The spots were gone. Well, mostly. There was a faint redness in both locations. Her tits, however, were still the same size they had been going in. In less than twenty-four hours, she had gone from a C cup to a DD. When she touched them, though, there was none of the exaggerated sexual desire she had experienced prior to her time in the cube. Maybe I should masturbate, Mira thought. She touched herself between her legs. She didn’t jump, as she had before. Everything felt normal . . . actually, less than normal. She had been living with an enhanced sex drive for so long, normal sensations down there felt . . . weak.

Mira read the housecomp’s report. She touched her mouth. The cubicle had been unable to remove every bit of the slave DNA. There were still artificial codes resequenced into her genome, and according to the house they were permanent additions. However, they were also less than two percent of what they had been previously. She was well below confiscation levels.

“Fuck this,” she said. “Never again. I’m never taking O again.”

She would take up new hobbies. She would find new interests. She would avoid Marlene. I should celebrate, Mira thought. Padding naked into her bedroom, she decided to do just that. The housecomp provided her the standard equipment, as per its programming.

The orgasms the mistress of the house struggled to induce in herself, though, after a somewhat longer time than was customary, turned out to be somewhat less than what Mira had come to expect, or to rely upon; and, in the end, there was, in fact, very little to actually celebrate.

For the first time in months, Mira’s bed and pillows were wet from other than sexual secretions.