The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I realise, of course, that as soon as I start telling you about Oscar you’re gonna’ think I’m crazy. Oscar is, to all intents and purposes, an imaginary friend. A lot of kids have them, and when I was little everyone thought it was cute that I thought there was a little blue guy with pointy ears and a top-hat following me around. It’s less cute when you’re eighteen years old, let me assure you. Eventually I worked out that other people don’t have little creatures accompanying them wherever they go, and I learnt to keep quiet about him. Oscar didn’t take the hint, though, and is still here, sitting on my shoulder as I type this, giggling away in that little way of his.

As far as I know he’s always been there. I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t around, giggling at something or other, flashing his pointy teeth in a wide grin. Just like on television, my mischievous little friend would play pranks on people from time to time, but unlike his fictional counterparts he didn’t often set me up to take the fall. Lucky me. I guess he was bored, just having one person to talk to, and I must admit that it can be pretty funny when he’s up to his tricks.

When I started to mature physically, so did he, and he stopped with the pranks and started playing some more... interesting games.

Like a lot of schools, my high school imposed a uniform upon its inmates. Nothing drastic—just a white shirt and grey slacks for the guys, and a white blouse and blue skirt for the girls. It was a bit of a joke that the girls had to wear a tie when the guys had the option not to, but it’s something that everyone was used to. I suppose it made us all look nice and respectable, and it did let us keep our decent clothes for when we went out, rather than wasting them at school. It’s funny, but something about that uniform always turned me on. Being Australia, the summers get pretty hot, and a good way to keep cool is to spray water around. We weren’t supposed to, of course, and with good reason—have you ever seen what water does to a nice, white blouse? Then again, telling a teenager not to do something is a guaranteed way of making them do it. The peep show is a bonus.

One day—one very hot day—I got into a water fight with a few friends of mine. Only two of us were wet, and consequently only two of us were caught at it, and only two of us were sentenced to detention. It just so happened that the other one to be busted was Laney Bright, someone I was very attracted to at the time, though I’d never have admitted it. Really, it wasn’t my fault, honest. I was just sitting around talking at lunch when a couple of guys raced up and hosed me down with a squeeze bottle. I jumped to my feet and grabbed a bottle of my own, chasing them across the quad and pretty much laughing like a maniac. They split up, and I raced after Phil, the one who had sprayed me.

“Come and get me!” he laughed over his shoulder.

“You’re mine!” I yelled back, picking up the pace. Phil was compact and fast, but he’d been running around for most of lunch. I was fresher, and was gaining on him fast.

We bolted through groups of students standing and sitting as they chatted and ate their lunches, and scattered more than a few as he tried to find ways to outmanoeuvre me. His luck ran out when he jumped through some girls sitting picnic-style on a stretch of grass. His foot hit a bag on the way through, and he staggered, almost tripping. I took the advantage and sent a jet of water his way, just as he grabbed a surprised Laney from behind, spun her around and hid behind her. Phil let out a laugh, I let out a moan, and Laney let out a shriek of outrage. Phil turned and ran, with me right behind him, and Laney right behind me.

“Ha! You’re in trouble now!” Phil yelled.

“I’m gonna’ get you!” I shouted at Phil. “Sorry, Laney!” I laughed back at my pursuer.

“You’re dead!” yelled a very wet Laney, a few steps behind me.

With all the noise we were making, it was inevitable that we’d get caught. Phil, ever the lucky one, ducked around a corner just as a teacher came around. He beat a hasty retreat as I nearly ran into Mr. Chalmes, a humourless bugger of a man if ever I met one. Laney rounded the corner last, and found me trying to talk my way out of the situation. A minute or so later we were being marched into the detention room, me wearing a sheepish grin, and Laney still protesting her innocence.

“I had nothing to do with it!” she insisted. “He squirted me, I didn’t do anything!”

“I don’t care,” was the gruff reply. “Both of you are wet, so the pair of you can spend the rest of lunch in detention.”

“But that’s almost an hour!” she whined in the cutest tone.

“Too bad.”

“That is so not fair!”

As if detention wasn’t bad enough, old man Chalmes sent in a female aide to bring Laney her bag and a dry blouse. She left to get changed, coming back with her wet shirt in a plastic bag and looking like she wanted to hurt somebody. She plunked herself down on the opposite side of the big round desk in the middle of the detention room and pointedly ignored me. I was left in my wet clothes. Talk about a double standard... just because nobody wanted to see my boobs, I had to sit there wet. After cautioning us to be quiet, the teacher left, leaving us alone. At that point in time, I would have been happier not to have been left alone with Laney. She waited a total of four seconds before letting loose on me.

“Prick,” she muttered.

“Uh, sorry.”

“’Uh, sorry’,” she mimicked. “I didn’t even do anything, and now I have to spend the rest of lunch here with you!”

“Well, what do you want me to say? It’s not like I wet you on purpose.”

Oscar chose that moment to show up, giggling in his usual fashion. “Yeah, you did. Go on, admit it! You wanted to see her boooooobs. Ahhh hahahahaha!”

Shut the hell up! I thought at him angrily.

“Bullshit,” the irritated girl continued. “You probably did it just so you could get a good look!”

“Yep, yep, that’s right!” Oscar beamed, an inch from her face. “He wanted to check out your rack, so he gave you the ol’ wet T-shirt routine.”

She’s not wearing a T-Shirt.

“Okay, wet blouse.”

“Like I’d bother.”

“Right!” Oscar and Laney said in unison. I hid a smirk.

“Yeah, really funny, you little perv,” Laney said angrily, reaching for her freshly-fetched bag. “I’d rather read than spend an hour talking to you.” And with that she pulled out a book and did just that. My bag was still back where I’d left it, and would probably remain so until I was let out. I resigned myself to silence and leaned back, closing my eyes.

“Nice one, Mickey, lad.”

Hush.

“Oh, come on. Didja’ get a good look?”

No, I did not get a good look.

“Well, that’s no good. Maybe I can help you get a better look.”

Don’t you dare!

“Too late!”

I spun around to look at Oscar, who was sitting on the desk, pointing at something. Laney looked up from her book and followed my eyes to see what I was now staring at. It took her a moment to realise what they were, and then another moment to recognise them. With an astonished squeal her hands flew to her waist as she confirmed that they were, indeed, her panties sitting on the table.

Oh, shit.

“Oh my Goood!” she shrieked.

“Maybe if you ask her nicely she’ll let you keep ‘em as a souvenir!” Oscar cackled.

“Shut up!” I snapped, without thinking.

“Shut up?” squealed Laney. “Shut up? You steal my panties and then tell me to shut up?!”

“Not you,” I said, realising that I’d painted myself into a corner.

A very angry and somewhat red-faced Laney grabbed her panties from the table and shoved them into her pocket. “That’s it, I’m telling!” she growled in her cutest schoolgirl tone.

“No! Wait!” I stammered, frantic to keep her in the room. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? If she ‘told’ on me, they’d think I’d tried to rape her!

“No way, you fucking pervert!” she yelled.

“Keep your voice down!”

“Don’t worry, noone can hear you.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Laney demanded incredulously. “I said I’m telling on you!”

“Please, don’t,” I said, unable to think of anything better to say.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she snapped.

“Because if you don’t he’ll fuck you until your hot little pussy explodes!”

Oscar, shut up!

“I—ah!” Oscar chose just that moment to pull another stunt, and unhooked her skirt with a flick of his little wrist. She wasn’t quite quick enough to save it and in her haste tripped on the navy blue garment, falling backward. Her legs broke free, and I was treated to a close-up view of her dark-blonde muff, trimmed into a neat line above her pussy as her arse hit the floor.

“She shaves, she shaves!” yelled Oscar with glee.

Are you trying to get me killed?! I demanded incredulously.

“You bastard!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” I protested.

“Oooohhh, yes it was his fault!” hissed Oscar, an inch from her ear. “And it was your fault, too, because you want him to fuck your hot little pussy, don’t you?”

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” Laney growled, oblivious to the voice in her ear.

“I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, he’s bad,” Oscar continued. “You’d better teach him a lesson, huh?”

“You are so fucked,” she went on, getting to her feet.

Oscar, help me! I thought in desperation

“I am helping you!”

“Erm, oh shit... I’m, uh... sorry?” I said in a small voice as I backed away from a very angry Ms. Bright, wishing I could crawl into a hole and die.

“You can crawl into a hole, alright!”

Shut up!

“Sorry?” Laney fumed, still advancing on me. “Sorry? You humiliate me and all I get is a ‘sorry’?”

“I’m very sorry?”

“Doesn’t cut it!”

“Look, I’ll do anything.”

“Damn right you will!”

In my backward march I inadvertently walked into my chair, falling backward into it. Laney walked right up and grabbed me by the ears. For a moment I thought she was going to hit me.

“Eat my pussy!”

“WHAT?”

“You heard me! You’ve been a bad little boy, Mike Mitchell, and I’m gonna’ make you pay for it! Eat me good and maybe I won’t tell on you.”

I nearly fainted, as much from the blood that had rushed from my brain to my nether regions the instant her panties had appeared on the table as from her lewd and utterly uncharacteristic demand. Before I could utter a word she unceremoniously dragged my head downward and shoved my face between her legs.

“Mmmmph!”

“Yeah, you’ve been a bad boy,” Laney purred eagerly, squeezing my head between her thighs and humping my face with her pussy. “You’d better lick me good, or I’ll punish you.”

“Punish? Woo! You think she’s gonna’ whip you?” Oscar cackled.

Maybe I was a little slow on the uptake, but I wasn’t completely clueless. It took me a moment to manoeuvre her over to a desk, then I threw myself into my task. After all, she was going to punish me if I didn’t do a good job! Her pussy was as wet as her blouse had been, and far tastier. The feminine musk emanating from her hot little crevice was driving me insane, and my mind swam with thoughts of what this ‘punishment’ might entail.

Using the fingers of one hand to hold her open, I ran my tongue up and down the soft, raised ridge above her little love hole. From the way she squirmed and panted, egging me on with quavering words of encouragement, I surmised that she liked this, and focused directly on her clit. Before long my tongue was starting to cramp, but Laney was just getting warmed up. Her hands, formerly grasping my ears, clasped behind my head, holding me in place as though she was terrified I was going to stop. There wasn’t a force of Earth that could stop me right now! My tongue wiggled from side to side and up and down over her engorged clitoris as I added a finger to the mix. She flinched at the sudden intrusion, then pushed back eagerly, happy to have something, anything, to fill her hungry pussy. Another finger was soon squeezed inside, and her pelvis bucked hard into my face in response. I was amazed at how tight her pussy squeezed my fingers, and I knew that she wouldn’t be able to take a third. She gasped and moaned in her high, girlish voice, heralding her incoming climax. My fingers pistoned in and out as I sucked her clit into my mouth and swirled my tongue around and around. Laney squished my face against her cunt and screamed, shuddering, moaning until her spasm subsided. Her hands finally relaxed, releasing my head and allowing me to breathe unhindered.

I stood, breathing hard and staring unbelievably at the fuck-struck girl in front of me. She lay back over the desk, resting on her elbows as she stared dead into my eyes. Her baby blues held a demand that didn’t need to be voiced, and would not be denied. We stayed like that a moment, staring at each other as our pulses raced and our chests heaved. A silent signal was sounded, and my hands were suddenly tearing at my pants. Laney’s fingers gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white as she stared at my cock. Its tip was wet with precum – I hadn’t known that you could lose so much without actually coming – and it was aching, swollen harder than I’d ever felt it. The head pulsed purple beneath its thin, fleshy covering, fed by the veins that patterned the shaft. Its flesh was flushed pink with excitement, and it wanted only one thing.

I suppose I must’ve looked pretty stupid, hopping back to the desk as quickly as humanly possible with my pants down around my ankles. Neither of us was laughing, though. Laney’s hand massaged my dick, and it twitched dangerously. She didn’t press the issue, though, and merely guided it to its destination. Her hot, juice-laden pussy was open and ready for me as I stroked the head of my cock up and down momentarily, getting a feel for her before I pressed inside. I pushed harder, I guess, than I should have, and Laney gasped. Our eyes locked again, hers reading pain as well as lust, as our bodies met. Her arms were around my neck as I slipped inside and our lips touched for the first time. The frenzy of a moment ago was lost in the hot, gorgeous pleasure of our union. She was even tighter than I’d imagined, and while she’d taken two fingers without too much trouble, her pussy was stretched tight around my rampant cock. Our mouths opened on each other’s immediately, our tongues sliding erotically together as our bodies moved far more slowly. I slipped nearly all the way out, then pushed back in with exquisite slowness. She moaned into my mouth and pressed herself up against me. Her hips pushed up against my cock insistently, demanding that I fill her hot, clenching cunt harder, faster. I smiled into her kiss and suddenly slammed into her as hard as I could. Her gasp became a wail as I pummelled her hard and fast, feeling my orgasm rise and hoping that hers was on its way. Her arms locked around me once again as she buried her head in my shoulder, then threw it back and squealed.

“Oh, Mike! Oh, Miiiiike! Oh, Mickey, yeah, honey... oh, my God yes! Yes, yeah... yeaaah! Unnngh!”

I let go one long groan as the orgasm hurtled through my body. She shook against me, moaning as I kept hammering at her until I was sure she had nothing left. Laney collapsed back onto the table, and I collapsed on top of her. She didn’t seem to mind. My shoulders ached from her death grip, but a bruise or two was tiny in comparison to this. Her fingers now stroked my biceps idly, her touch soft and a little ticklish. It was nice. It occurred to me that I would have to look her in the eyes again eventually, and that I should probably do it sooner, rather than later. With a groan I propped myself up so I could look at her, and I was struck by how pretty she looked in her current tousled, tired, but happy state. My older brother had said something about the ‘post-fuck daze’ once, and I guessed that this was it. I had to smile, and was glad to see her return the gesture.

“Hi,” she said, on the verge of a giggle.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Did that just happen?”

“I think so.” I looked away for a moment, then looked back to see her still smiling, albeit a little sheepishly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Uh, we should probably move before someone walks in and sees us,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah, I guess.”

I leant down to kiss her again. It was comfortable, not awkward like I thought it might be. I pulled my semi-hard cock out of her slowly as we kissed and she moaned softly. The monster was still somewhat erect when I stuffed it back in my pants, but I didn’t want to push my luck by demanding another round. It could wait until next time... or failing that, until I got home to the privacy of my own bedroom. Laney had, by now, found her panties and was in the process of slipping them back on. I couldn’t remember a girl who looked more enticing than Laney did just then – her hair tousled and careless, her shoulders relaxed, her smile a little nervous but happy just the same. She slid the cotton briefs up her gorgeous thighs while I watched, and I felt my cock harden again at the sight of her. Seemingly able to feel my gaze, she looked up at me and smiled.

As luck would have it, we only had about five minutes before the bell heralded the end of our stint in detention, and we spent them alternatively avoiding each other’s gaze and eyeing one another with knowing grins. Chalmes knew for a fact that something was going on, but for once the mouth kept his thoughts to himself. The old codger probably thought that we were kissing or something... how naughty! It was all we could do to keep from laughing, but we just couldn’t keep the grins off our faces.

We parted company and headed off in our opposite directions, both of us still hiding smiles. I was sure everyone would somehow know what we’d been up to, but it seemed that the noise hadn’t carried. Not a soul suspected a thing, which made it all the sweeter. All the naughtier.

I stroked my chin as something occurred to me. “Oscar?” I said quietly, making sure noone could hear me.

“Yes, Mickey?”

“Did you have anything to do with Phil splashing me?”

“...maybe.”

“I see. And did you, by any chance, steer him toward Laney?”

“...perhaps.”

“Hmm... alright. One more question.”

“Shoot.”

“Next time, do you think you could warn me?”

Oscar’s silent laughter echoed though the hall. “...maybe.”