The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Annette’s heart leapt as she watched him get out of his car. For nearly two years she’d watched Andrew in fruitless pursuit of Yasmine. If only she could make him see there were others who would be happy to have him. Someone like Annette, for example. In olden times, she would be considered plain, but plain was far from ugly. Her complection was clear and she did have a nice figure, with pert little B-cup breasts and a petite little derrierre that she had learned to sway just a bit as she walked. She had some flesh to her, unlike most of the other women at her college, Yasmine included, but was far from being fat. Her hazel eyes flashed a promise whenever Andrew was around. But he never seemed to notice. Maybe he would notice now, as he picked up the vaseful of flowers. He read the card and looked around. Joy brought warmth to her chilled limbs (the temperature was thirty-three degrees, and had been hovering there for the past week) as he smiled.

Then Yasmine showed up. They lived in the same apartment building. Yasmine, from the fullness of her chest to her little peach-shaped ass to her dick-sucking lips, was the Playboy image of “natural” beauty, which meant she was currently saving up for the implants. Her jade-green eyes looked upon the world with the mentality of someone who expected something in return for every admiring stare. Andrew, smitten as he was, asked if she was the one who had sent the flowers. Yasmine’s scornful laugh wiped the smile from his face, and felt like an icicle in the heart for Annette. Yasmine was still laughing when she went into the building. Andrew leaned his back against the wall dejectedly. Annette couldn’t bear to watch him. She got out of her car and rushed to comfort him. “Chariots of Fire” played in her mind as she rushed across the street, her soul soaring as Andrew’s gaze locked with hers. She never saw the truck.

Yasmine watched the police leave with a scowl on her face. For six weeks they’d been asking anyone in the building if they knew the little bitch who had been hit by the truck. Six of the most annoying weeks of her life. That simpering little spastic, Andrew, had been seeking comfort from her. Apparently he had known this “Annette” person as something other than another face in the crowd—and not even a pretty one at that, fat little bitch. He had figured out that Annette was the one who kept leaving all those syrupy love notes for him. So what? As her father had always said: Fuck her, give her a dollar. Yasmine had seen prettier whores give head for half that. With the little Plain Jane gone, the world was a prettier place.

Yasmine jumped out of her chair, crying in terror as a vision in plainness appeared before her, glaring at her accusingly. Yasmine backed herself into a corner as the apparition advanced on her without moving its legs. The last thing she saw was those hazel eyes getting bigger and bigger in her field of vision.

There was something different about Yasmine today, of that much, Andrew was certain. Before, she had always taken the time to string along her admiring army of pretty boys like a queen bee inciting her drones into a frenzy. Now she seemed to be ignoring them. She came to a stop at Andrew’s booth, and he could do nothing but stare at the beauty before him.

“May I sit here?” she asked, causing Andrew to blink. He would most certainly not have recognized her over the phone. When she spoke, it was without her usual...darkness.

“Um, okay.” Andrew replied, his mind racing. To his surprise, she actually smiled, as if she had been dreaming of this for a long time. She was carrying a white paper bag of the type the college deli tended to put things in. From this she removed a foot-long chicken hoagie, two bags of chips, two sodas and a couple of half-pint cartons of milk.

“Hungry?” she asked, cutting the hoagie in half.

“Um, sure.” he said, taking the half she offered.

“It’s got hot peppers on it.” she warned, opening one of the milks before taking a bite of her half. Andrew took a bite...and bit right into a seed. Reflexively, he reached for the open milk and took a big, hearty swig. The milk neutralized the acids in the pepper, putting out the fire, so to speak. “I’m sorry.” she said. “Next time I’ll pick the peppers off before I microwave it.”

“No, that’s okay.” Andrew said, being more careful for the rest of the meal. For some reason, Yasmine truly seemed to want to spend time with him. She seemed sincere enough for six, and she honestly laughed at his jokes after he finally worked up the nerve to tell some. One o’clock rolled around before Andrew knew it, and he had to go. Yasmine walked with him as he helped her throw away their trash...and then walked with him to class.

“I’ve really enjoyed spending this time with you, Andrew.” she said, kissing him. “We should do this more often.”

“How about tonight?” Andrew asked before he could stop himself.

“Is seven good for you?”

“Seven’s great.”

“Okay.” she replied, kissing him once more on the lips. Hadn’t her eyes been green before? When had they turned hazel? It wasn’t often you saw hazel eyes at Nadine Ivy Phillips University. As Yasmine walked away, he remembered where he had seen similar eyes. But Annette was dead. Wasn’t she?

“No way!” Sam gasped. “How the hell did you end up getting a date with Yasmine?”

“Actually, she suggested it.” Andrew said.

“Whoa, I wonder what posessed her to do something like that.”

“I was wondering the same thing myself.” Andrew replied. “Listen, Sam, I came to see you because you know about weird shit like this. I want to know...if someone gets posessed, can it change their eye color?”

“Eyes, hair, face, you name it, bro.” Sam replied. “The body is the subject of the spirit. There are even warrior-monks in Tibet who can do things like shape-shift and levitate and throw fireballs at you, just by using a form of combat-meditation. I shit you not, dude.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Andrew said, sliding a can of white New England clam chowder to the would-be demonologist.

“Hi, Andrew!” Yasmine said cheerfully as she opened the car door from within.

“Hello, Annette.” Andrew replied as he sat down.

“You know?”

“The hazel eyes were a big clue. Yasmine’s are green.” Andrew told her. She looked at herself in the rear-view mirror, then frowned.

“You know, it’s really hard for me to see how Yasmine’s body looks on me because mirrors only reflect the old me...the, well, dead me.”

“You don’t see Yasmine at all?” Andrew asked. Annette shook her—or rather, Yasmine’s—head. “Is he, like, in there with you?”

“She’s asleep.” Annette replied.

“Does she stay that way, or does she wake up and try to fight for control?”

“We fought for control when I first entered her body.” Annette said. “I won, and she went to sleep.” She looked up at Andrew with her beautiful, hazel eyes. “Don’t you like me?”

“I do like you, Annette.” Andrew said, putting his hand on hers. “I’m just sorry I didn’t realize it until after the accident.” Annette cried happily. Andrew hugged her, allowing her to cry on his shoulder.

Annette nervously cast darting glances up and down the road, afraid to open the door.

“Do you want to find someplace with a real parking lot?” Andrew asked. Annette put her seatbelt back on.

“Very much.” she replied, pulling away from the dance hall, which they had picked for its popularity. They ended up going to a place called The Elk, which was actually a country music dance hall, but that was just fine. They were together, despite the borrowed body. That was all that mattered.

As they danced across the sawdust floor, Andrew reflected that Annette would probably never be able to bring herself to cross a street again. He held her close, breathing deeply of the perfume she’d picked out, which was cheaper than anything Yasmine would ever have allowed herself to be caught posessing.

“This has been the best night ever.” Annette sighed, leaning her head on Andrew’s shoulder as they walked back to their table.

“The band’s just taking a break.” Andrew replied. “It’s not over yet.” Annette sighed happily.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Andrew asked.

“I’m sure.” Annette replied, dropping the cashmere pullover to the floor, revealing the lovely body beneath.

“Yasmine might not like what we’ve done to her body when she wakes up.”

“IF she wakes up.” Annette said. “I’m not sure she can do that while I’m here. Besides, posession is nine-tenths of the law.” She laid back, lifting her legs high into the air as Andrew took out the home enema kit. He had to admit, Annette had some very interesting ideas. After having her colon thoroughly flushed out, she allowed herself to be carried to the bathroom, where they climbed into the shower together. They soaped each other up, and he slid into her well-lubed slit. Pressed against the wall, Annette emitted cries of pleasure and passion as she was pumped like a Texas oil well. This body she inhabited seemed built for pleasure, both giving and receiving, as she clenched Yasmine’s vaginal walls around Andrew’s penis to bring him as much stimulation as possible. As she succumbed to the ecstacy of orgasm, Andrew kissed her, covering her mouth with his to prevent her from waking the others who lived in the building. She fell asleep before he finished.

Her eyes opened some time later. She could smell something cooking. She crawled out of bed and padded her way to where Andrew was.

“Smells delicious, love.” she said, putting her arms around him. “What is it?”

“Goulash.” Andrew replied. “My mom’s recipe, except I’m using the last of the deer meat.”

“Deer?” Annette asked.

“Some friends of mine and I were riding around at the beginning of the semester and we hit a deer. Completely messed up the car, but luckily it wasn’t mine, I was just the designated driver. Anyway, it seemed a shame to leave it just lying there, so we divided it up and took it home. I ended up with the left hind leg, so I diced it up and put it in the freezer.”

“Sounds interesting.” Annette said. “I’ve never had venison before.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder how that deer felt.” Andrew muttered.

“It’s not as painless as they say.” Annette said. “At least, it wasn’t for me. I felt myself fly apart when that truck hit me.”

“I’m sorry.” Andrew said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s okay.” she replied. “I...I need to deal with this.” The goulash turned out to be quite good indeed, but Annette was more than eager to get back to bed. As she pulled Andrew under the covers, her hazel eyes shone with a love that was stronger than death itself.