The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Mrs Benn- Lessons to be Learnt

The following is a work of fiction and should not be ready by persons under the age of eighteen. I would also like to note that I am from England so please note that some words may differ e.g colour as apposed to color. Distribution is strictly forbidden unless permission is asked by the author. Comments will be greatly appreciated. Above all, enjoy!

Synopsis – A satire of the T.V. programme Mr. Benn. Elizabeth discovers a mysterious costume shop can transport her into erotic locations.

Elizabeth Benn did a double take when she got to the end of Festive Road, her abode being number 52 on the street. The reason for her surprise was the costume shop. She had never noticed it before. Maybe it was because it was such an old fashioned looking building, small and set back from the semi detached houses on its left. However, she noticed it was strangely appealing. The violet neon sign flashing (i)Costume Shop(i) and the dark tinted windows made the place look exciting and daring, without being too trashy. Elizabeth’s spine tingled as she plucked up the courage to walk inside.

Nobody on the street had seen her go in. It was a Monday morning and most people were at their place of work. To be honest, if anyone had seen her go inside they wouldn’t have particularly cared. The residents of Festive Road knew she was a stuck-up woman, married to a sales manager. At twenty five years old he had risen through the ranks quickly and provided well for his wife, five years younger than himself. Nevertheless, it wasn’t mere jealousy that caused the people on Festive Road to detest her. She was a terrible boaster, announcing to anyone who cared that she wouldn’t dream of sitting in a boring office or in a mucky factory. She was proud to be jobless and her life consisting of spending her husband’s hard earned cash on luxury items, mainly for herself. But all that was about to change…

There was a ring as Elizabeth strode inside the shop confidently. She approved of the tiny bell on the top of the door, most likely because it announced her presence to all. Yet she was surprised to see the shop was deserted and more surprised to find she had stepped into an erotic costume shop at that. The walls were lined with kinky outfits and metal racks were dotted about the shop floor. There were thousands of costumes, more so than Elizabeth could ever have imagined but stranger still they were all for women. They ranged from genie garments, to bunny costumes, cave girl outfits to sexy astronauts, all different colours and all erotic to the eye.

“Can I help you miss?”

Elizabeth jumped violently. She had not seen the girl appear in front of the counter. She must have been the shopkeeper but the only doors in the room were the front door and the door marked ‘Changing Rooms’. Where had she come from and how?

The shopkeeper observed the girl with wide scanning eyes. Elizabeth had long, shoulder length, blonde hair and bright, sparkling, sapphire eyes. Her lips were bright red yet showed no traces of lipstick and her cheeks naturally rosy red. Her skin was softly tanned from a recent holiday to the Caribbean and her body a perfect hourglass shape. Through her plain red T-shirt could be made out large, rounded breasts like two perfectly shaped coconuts and she had a wide shapely butt tucked away in tight, blue jeans. Her dainty feet were hidden in white trainers. The shopkeeper knew she was going to have fun with this one.

“Yes”, stuttered Elizabeth hastily. “Find me an outfit that you think I will approve of”.

The shopkeeper knew her type instantly. She was the kind who treated others like dirt, was demanding and felt she was a superior being because she was loaded with cash. Nevertheless, the shopkeeper bowed subserviently and pointed to the changing rooms.

“We have the perfect outfit for you right inside changing room one”, she answered softly and patiently.

Elizabeth stared at the shopkeeper like she was stupid. She did look a little strange. She must have been about the same age as herself and had curly, brown hair with hazel eyes. She was wearing glasses and had on a red waistcoat and baggy yellow and purple striped trousers. Elizabeth guessed she was modelling one of the outfits, at least she hoped so in any case.

“What do you mean?” she spat. “You haven’t even picked anything out yet”.

“Trust me. You’ll love what’s in store in the changing room”. The shopkeeper gave a mysterious grin. She was a pretty girl but Elizabeth didn’t seem to think so.

“Fine”, Elizabeth declared making for the door. “I’ll take a look but only because these purple walls are giving me a headache. Why is it so dark in here anyway? I can’t believe a young woman such as yourself is working in a trashy place like this. I don’t work of course, unlike you, and another thing…”

The shopkeeper listened faintly as Elizabeth continued to rant, the din lessening when she strode inside the changing rooms and into booth one.

Elizabeth’s headache mounted as the walls and carpet of the room were a bright red colour. There was a floor to ceiling mirror in front of her and a wooden bench to her left. Hung on a hook to her right was the outfit. It was a schoolgirl costume.

“How predictable”, Elizabeth mumbled but no one heard her. The shopkeeper was still in the main part of the shop and nobody had entered since Elizabeth. She put on the costume anyway though. When she looked in the mirror she almost didn’t recognise herself. Her husband would be impressed.

The outfit consisted off a tight fitting blouse cut above her stomach with only a single button to keep her bobbing breasts in place. However the button was straining and looked sure to ping off at any moment. Further down she wore a red and white, tartan skirt which was extremely short, made even more so by the frill at the ends. On her feet were tight, black shoes with straps. To complete the outfit she wore cotton, knee-high socks and white, fingerless, shoulder length gloves. But there was an odd occurrence. Somehow her hair had transformed into pigtails and she found herself chewing gum which had materialised from nowhere onto her tongue. But she wasn’t concerned or afraid. In fact she was strangely relaxed and although she had never dressed in such an erotic way in her life she was loving every minute of it.

Elizabeth paraded round the large changing room, observing the costume from several angles and imagining the look on her husband’s face if, or when, he caught sight of her. Then it happened.

At first it was so slow that she barely noticed it. The room was slowly spinning but it gathered pace and Elizabeth’s costume became blurry in the mirror. She cried out in terror and ran for the door. But it was locked. The room spun faster and faster, so much so that she toppled to the ground and covered her head in her hands in fright. Faster and faster it spun and Elizabeth shut her eyes tightly. Her screams were lost as a high pitched tone erupted making Elizabeth deaf. It wasn’t long before she fell unconscious with a last stifled groan.

“Miss Benn?”

Elizabeth opened her eyes. She surveyed the scene. Was this a dream? Or maybe an embarrassing nightmare.

The girl still had the schoolgirl outfit on. But the changing room had disappeared along with the entire shop and the shopkeeper. She was sat at a single wooden desk in a classroom along with about fifteen other girls her age. They all wore the same skimpy outfit as her own but all eyes were on her, including a teacher at the front of the classroom. She naturally didn’t wear the school uniform but instead a black waistcoat and short skirt of the same colour. Her hair was in a tight bun and she wore tights. Yet although she was dressed like an older woman, it was clear that she was not much older than the girls in the classroom. She frowned at Elizabeth through small glasses perched on her nose.

“I asked you a question Elizabeth and I expect you to answer. You weren’t day dreaming again were you?”

Suddenly the girl sat at the desk to her left ripped the open exercise book from under Elizabeth’s elbows and, standing up for effect, she held up the open pages for all to see.

“She’s been doodling again Miss”, She announced in an unnaturally, girly, high pitched voice. “Are you going to punish her?”

Like the other classmates Elizabeth stared at the pictures. They portrayed a stick woman surrounded by mountains of money with a caption underneath stating, (i)I don’t need a job(i). The teacher’s frown became deeper and Elizabeth gulped in confusion.

“See me after class”, she announced firmly. “Now, do you think you’re focused enough to tackle the question?”

Elizabeth gasped. She was surprised she had not noticed them instantly and couldn’t believe her eyes. Two naked girls were strung up by the hands and suspended in the air side by side like meat in a butcher’s shop. Judging by the board pen markings on their bodies they were serving as the blackboard. They did not seem to be enjoying themselves though. Although their backs were turned to the collection of seated girls it was evident they had red ball gags in their mouths and their muffled moaning and groaning could be faintly heard. Elizabeth knew their wrists must have been aching despite the fact that their shapely bodies were lightweight and therefore their hands weren’t holding much up.

The teacher prodded the nearest girl in the lower back where she had written a maths problem. Elizabeth broke into sweat. It was long multiplication. She hadn’t done this since high school. Worse still the teacher offered out the pen.

Elizabeth realised she had no choice. She was in enough trouble as it was. Therefore, she hurriedly stumbled to her feet and scampered to the front of the class. She slowly grasped the green board pen to buy some time whilst she worked out the problem.

It came to her in a flash. She had always been lazy in school, among the popular girls in the class, too busy with the latest fashion to care. But in the back of her mind she vaguely remembered multiplication. Eagerly, so as not to let the sudden memory escape her brain, she bent down in front of the girl swinging slightly before her. In order to work down the math question she would have to write on the girls arse. She got to work.

It was strange at first. The tip of the marker sank into the girl’s golden brown flesh and she gave a suppressed squeal. Elizabeth tickled her and she was dying to brush her writing hand away and itch where she had written. Mental, rather than physical pain, was making the girl suffer. Elizabeth soon got into a smooth flow though. At first her writing was untidy due to the curvaceous, peachy surface she was working on but it became neater when she held the girls hip with her other hand to stop her swaying. She wrote on both cheeks in large writing for all the class to see. It wasn’t long before she boldly underlined her answer, an unbearable feeling for the girl.

Elizabeth smiled at the teacher and handed back the pen. But to her disappointment the frown did not fade.

“Wrong all wrong”, she scolded. Maybe Elizabeth’s memory wasn’t as accurate as she thought. “I knew you weren’t listening”.

The teacher was like lightning. She yanked Elizabeth down by the hair so she was bent over and pulled up her paper thin skirt. The metre long ruler battered her smooth, rosy arse cheeks so that they were a deep scarlet colour. Elizabeth wailed in pain and tried to stand up but the teacher merely yanked her back down so that she feared clumps of hair would fall out unless she took her punishment. The girls in the class looked on delightedly at the spectacle and some even slipped a finger or two between the frills of their own skirts in the excitement. Others giggled and jeered at Elizabeth who was clearly the stupidest in the class.

When the teacher was exhausted from the fierce onslaught she stepped back. Elizabeth stayed bent for a few seconds until she realised it was over. Tears were burning behind her eyes and when she stood upright she felt dizzy. Her butt felt like the fires of hell.

“Go back to your seat, silly girl!” she gasped as if surprised at her own cruelty.

Elizabeth nodded groggily and walked awkwardly back. Every time her bare cheeks rubbed a surge of pain swept over them making Elizabeth shudder from head to toe. But it didn’t end there.

When she slumped into her chair a sharp pain seared into her butt, and it wasn’t just from the beating. She gave a high pitched yelp and rocketed from the chair. The girls erupted into laughter and turning round, Elizabeth discovered the source of her pain. There was a drawing pin placed in the middle of the chair. When she looked up she couldn’t help but notice the cheeky grin of the girl seated behind her.

“Right Elizabeth!” Roared the teacher. “You’ve interrupted this class enough. Go to the headmaster’s office now!”

“But it was her”, whined Elizabeth, pointing at the ‘pin placer’ who now bared an innocent look on her face, complete with puppy dog eyes.

“Go!”

Elizabeth couldn’t believe such a loud voice could come from such a small woman. Nevertheless, with a frustrated sigh she trudged out of the classroom, distinctly hearing whispers from her classmates behind her.

Once out of the classroom Elizabeth realised that she didn’t know where the headmaster’s office was, or any of the rooms in the huge school for that matter. However, she soon discovered that her legs knew the way and the black shoes clicked on the tiled floor as they raced to the headmaster’s office. She was curious as to how they knew the way and couldn’t understand why they moved of their own accord.

Elizabeth darted through a maze of corridors, down a flight of stairs to the ground floor and towards the main entrance of the school where the office was located. She had butterflies in her stomach when her feet eventually set foot before the office and she gave a tentative knock before striding inside.

Elizabeth half expected to see a brothel of a room in the unreal school environment but was relieved when she walked into a standard office. It was a large room with a desk, several filing cabinets, plants and a leather sofa. The headmaster was sat in a black leather chair behind the desk, busy with some paperwork. He smiled when he saw Elizabeth approach.

“Elizabeth”, he beamed. “How are you? Come and sit down.”

Although the room may have been normal, Elizabeth soon discovered the headmaster wasn’t. He pushed his chair away from the desk and tapped his knees as if attracting a dog. Elizabeth seemed to know what he wanted. Reluctantly she padded round the desk and sat on his lap facing him. She wrapped her legs around the legs of the chair. She was so close to him she felt his breath beat down onto her. She hurriedly adjusted her frilly skirt, which had rode up, and bit her lip as her sore arse burned again on reaching a solid surface.

“So what can I do for you?” He asked.

“My teacher sent me here”, she mumbled. “I think I was daydreaming and then I got a maths question wrong and then I disrupted the lesson when someone put a pin on my chair”.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. She hoped he would understand. In fact, when she said it she realised that she really hadn’t done an awful lot wrong. At least she wasn’t rude to the teacher. However the look on his face seemed to suggest he didn’t see it that way. His once friendly face turned suddenly vicious.

“How do you expect to get a decent job if you don’t pay attention in lessons!” He bellowed, making Elizabeth jump in surprise. “Worse of all you stopped others from learning!”

Elizabeth wasn’t about to boast and explain confidently that she lacked a job and had a lover to provide for her.

“Naughty girls need to be punished!” He continued.

In one swift movement he grabbed Elizabeth under the armpits and chucked her on the desk with a thud. She spread across the desk, crushing the paperwork and sending a lamp and picture frame halfway across the room. Her arse roared with pain and she gave a terrified cry. He opened up a cabinet and Elizabeth’s fear grew when he produced a thin black cane.

“I’ve already been spanked”, she whined before she could stop herself. But he ignored her.

Again he gripped her but this time by the wrist. She flew from the desk and back to her feet. Now she was fighting back tears. She was desperate to run away but the same legs that had brought her here now refused to move. Instead they trembled at the strength of the headmaster who unbuckled his brown belt and allowed his black trousers to fall to the light green carpeted floor. It wasn’t until his white underpants were down that she fully observed his erect cock. She shook her head in distaste, dreading what was inevitably coming.

Two large hands wound round her body and gripped her bare, painful arse. He flicked aside her skirt and then pushed her roughly into his cock again and again, forcing her lips open and once so delving his shaft inside her. She wailed uncomfortably but her body was not her own .If it was she would have run away by now or at least put up some kind of resistance. She wondered who was controlling her, forcing her not to resist. Was it the headmaster, or thinking back maybe even the shopkeeper. Maybe in some strange way the schoolgirl outfit was holding her back. Whoever or whatever it was she begged for it to stop.

Then the cane came. She had never had anything rammed up her arse before and she instantly knew she didn’t like it. The cane had a thin tip but grew wider the further it went. As a result the object merely tingled inside her at first but as it scraped the side of her arsehole it became painful. Elizabeth groaned just like the suspended ‘blackboards’ had, the pitch getting squeakier and squeakier the further he pushed it inside her. There was a squelching noise of arriving cum, which involuntarily poured from both holes. Halfway inside her he stopped and Elizabeth went strangely silent. The discomfort made her gob smacked for the first time in her life. But the headmaster had only just got started.

She became a machine, predictable and reliable. He squeezed her cheeks together which closed her arse hole and made the cane ache inside her. This, in turn, forced her hips to shoot forwards of their own accord and therefore climb up the headmaster’s throbbing cock. She panted as if just completing a marathon and sweat trickled from her forehead and hands, which gripped the waistband of the frilly skirt obediently until her knuckles were white. He squeezed again harder and faster until she was bumping into his cock rapidly. A gurgling sound was produced from both her mouth and her filled holes. Unfortunately, and in a strange twist of fate, the button of her blouse refused to take the strain any longer and pinged off like a cork from a wine bottle. As if synchronised, Elizabeth came at the same time, her juices swilling over the cock and cane. She screamed in ecstasy whilst the headmaster grunted in delight. Meanwhile, her blouse parted like a child’s opened book complete with two round, juicy, pop-up figurines, which sprung from her body as if on cardboard springs,

Inevitably the headmaster came to. He gritted his teeth and let out a huge sigh as the floodgates opened and a tsunami of cum flooded Elizabeth’s once clean, innocent body. She could take it no longer. The room spun and she felt herself drifting into unconsciousness. But before everything went black she just had time to see a red carpet and mirror coming into focus. She fell forwards in silent relief.

She was back…