The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

❧ October 5th. Monday.

I ended up rushing to my afternoon class, after I spent way too much of my first day’s lunch break chatting with friends on the library computers. I left in plenty of time to reach the lecture theatre, which was one of the large ones in the learning annexe in the library basement. Unfortunately I assumed it would be in the humanities faculty building at the other end of campus, and I knew I’d be cutting it close to get there in time, so I ran all the way there before consulting a map.

It was a while since I’d done any jogging, and I was surprised how out of shape I was. My legs were starting to ache as I reached the languages building, and I wasted another two minutes walking the corridors, hoping that if I passed enough doors, I’d see the sign I was looking for. Then I finally asked someone.

“Oh yeah, it’s in the library. For all the classes that need a huge lecture theatre at the start of the year, but not enough to actually have one in the faculty buildings.” I didn’t catch the end of the sentence, because I was already running back in the direction I’d come. I idly wondered if I’d ever see that guy again, but I think I already had enough names and faces to remember this year. I probably wouldn’t recognise him again.

It was 5 minutes after 1 when I arrived. I hated myself for that. It was the first day of college, and already I was late for a lecture. I was all ready to apologise, but when I finally found the right place there were still a few people in the corridor, filing in past a logjam in the doorway. Against all the odds, nobody noticed my tardiness.

This particular lecture was an American Culture one. That meant I wouldn’t be spending any more time with Mark sitting behind me, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. He seemed like quite a nice guy, once you got through the dumb, brash persona he felt the need to put on, and I would have liked to get to know him a little better. But then, it was kind of refreshing to be with a different bunch of fellow students for almost every class, and I was looking forward to meeting a whole lot of new friends. Who knows what kind of things they might be into. Mark had seemed surprisingly calm when I showed him the state of my back. He said his cousin was into something similar, and he’d seen enough marks when they visited over summer.

To be honest, I found that attitude, being okay with someone else’s secret pleasures, even more refreshing than if he’d turned out to have some interest himself. He’d shared his own secret, too—though I guess neither of us really had a choice about it. He said his parents had named him Brutus Mark after a character in some old book, ’The Fourth Homonym’. No doubt that would mean something to Master, or even Jules (and I had no doubt that Alex could cite the reference from memory), but I’d never heard of it. Anyway, he didn’t like the name and there was nothing cool he could shorten it to, so only his family even knew it now, and he always introduced himself as Mark.

I could get my mind off him, anyway. I glanced around the packed lecture theatre in search of a familiar face, but everyone seemed to have their own little cliques already. The seats were tiered, a vertiginous half-circle around the lecturer’s podium and whiteboards, and I slipped onto the back row near the door. If there were any breaks in the lecture, I could always introduce myself to whichever of my classmates was closest. Then I jumped at the gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey,” Jules didn’t feel the need to say much, and slid into the seat next to me, “I was sure I was going to be late then, good to see you’ve not started yet.” I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that they were also taking this course, but it was good to have a friend in the class.

“Me too,” I muttered, “You end up going to the faculty building?”

“I think that could be an easy mistake to make if you haven’t checked your timetable properly,” Jules lowered their voice as the lecturer strode slowly down the aisle to the front of the room, and I couldn’t tell how serious a criticism that was intended to be, “No, I was in the Heffner Building last session, and a couple of students decided to block the direct route here by having what I believe is called a ‘rap battle’ in the middle of the street.”

“Wow,” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I should have known that Jules’s reason for tardiness would be an order of magnitude more interesting than mine.

Then we couldn’t talk any more, because the lecturer started to speak. His name was Drummond, and he started the lecture by giving us a three minute summary of his own credentials, academic works, and the books he’d written. He didn’t give anyone a chance to ask questions, but rattled straight off into an introduction to our field of study. He would mention some current fad or trend, flashing up a single image on a Powerpoint presentation, and then quickly dive into a highly technical analysis of where he believed it had come from and what it meant, as well as links to similar memes in history or around the world. He never gave us a second’s pause, and never stopped to question if we were familiar with either the minutiae of pop culture or the abstract sociological and psychological concepts he was linking them to. As my first real lecture, it was awfully intimidating.

“Do you know what he’s talking about?” Jules whispered when he turned around for a second to check his notes. I shook my head. Though a glance across at their notes revealed that Jules might have considerably more experience in psychology, just lacking the real-world references to hang it on. Maybe we could help each other, then, because I wouldn’t be surprised if our notes complemented each other to produce nearly a complete set between us. Before I could say anything about that, though, Drummond had launched back into his monologue and we were racing to keep up.

An hour later, we left the lecture theatre. I scribbled down the names of the papers we were expected to read for next week. I sincerely hoped that we wouldn’t have such an intense deluge of work for every class. I’d expected it to be something like high school, but there was no asking of questions here, no exercises to make sure we’d understood, just a machine gun barrage of information that would all be on some hypothetical final exam.

“Don’t worry,” Jules smiled as we left the hall, “We’ve got ‘seminars’ and ‘workshops’ too. Not sure what the difference is, but I gather Professor Dumbledore is like a hermetic sage on a mountain, casting down nuggets of wisdom. The rest of the department staff do their best to help us extract something we can actually use from his fevered genius.”

Then just as I was about to head back to the library, Jules added, “If I were you, I’d save my worry for this big whole-house suggestion Darkside’s been working on.”

“The what?” I turned to ask, but they’d already hurried away towards whatever lecture was next in their schedule. As much as I was intrigued by that last comment, I knew I could wait for an answer. Lecturers were unlikely to be so forgiving. I pulled a much-folded piece of paper from my pocket, checking my timetable for the day. I knew already I was free now, but after nearly being late for one lecture I felt obliged to double check.

When I got home, Alex was fixing herself a snack. The kitchen looked great, with a new counter top and the big table turned around so it wouldn’t get in the way. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn’t notice me crossing the garden, outside the big double windows that lined the back of the house. She didn’t notice the sound of the back door, either, or when I walked into the room behind her. Even when she was busy chopping whatever it was into translucent-thin slices, I didn’t think she’d fail to notice the tap of my shoes on the tiles, so I left them at the door and came closer with just ankle socks to protect my feet from the cold floor.

“You’ll get fat,” I whispered, my hand already on her ass, and gave her ear a playful nibble. She inhaled sharply, surprised, and dropped the veg knife. She had a large slab of bread in front of her, topped with a thick layer of cream cheese in which she was carefully arranging slices of deli meat and vegetables. Every slice of meat was so thin you could practically see through it, but the total sandwich must have had a million calories in it.

“Careful!” she exclaimed, though her hip pressing firmly into my crotch told me she wasn’t as angry as she tried to sound. “You could have made me cut myself, startling me like that, and then I’d have to cut you to restore the balance.”

“Ooh, you tease!” I couldn’t imagine Alex really hurting me, pain had never been her thing. But then again, it was only a few months since she’d managed to understand why control turned me on so much, so maybe it wasn’t such an unlikely prospect after all. But for now, it was a little joke between us; every thought of anger turned into a teasing, tantalising promise of punishment.

“Seriously, though, what’s with the mammoth sandwich?”

“I might need an energy boost for this evening,” she explained, rolling her eyes at my lascivious grin and curiously raised eyebrow, “Sorry dear, but it’s the first-year tryouts for the college rugby teams. But if I find myself with energy left when I get home, you’ll be the first to know. I’m sure you can help me stay trim enough to close my corset again.”

She turned from her food for a moment to pull me close and bite my bottom lip. That was about as far as she’d ever come to causing me actual pain, and I loved it even if she didn’t draw blood. It was the closeness that mattered now, so much more than whether the touch was violent, or tender, or passionate.

“Anyway,” I purred happily as the kiss broke away, “What’s this I hear about some big plan Master’s setting up for us? A whole house suggestion?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” she leaned closer as if to whisper, and I could feel her breath on my ear, tantalisingly close. I waited, wondering if this was the punchline of some joke that everyone except me was in on. Eventually, she whispered three little words, slowly and deliberately: “You are mine.”

I knew those words so well. Master had conditioned me long before—before he realised I was underage, in fact—to become intensely aroused when he whispered those words. The first time he said them, I’d been so horny that nothing else mattered except getting him inside me right then and there. Just remembering it got me hot, but that’s because it was a very pleasant memory.

“Sorry Mistress,” I mumbled, “that one only works for Jim.”

“Such a shame, I know,” her hand on my ass roved upwards, inside my shirt now. She kept her voice low, and as I tried to make out what I was saying I was so intent on listening that I didn’t realise what she was doing until I felt her drop my bra on the kitchen table. “But he’s been working on a new one, so anyone you choose to tell about it can have that effect on you.”

“New words?” I felt my eyes open wide, and knew my excitement must be as clear to Alex as it was to me. “Or the same one but it works for you?”

“Oh, not words exactly,” she blushed slightly and glanced down at her feet. “I’m… umm… not allowed to remember what it is, but I remember being surprised at what he’d chosen, that it wasn’t just a magic word.”

“You don’t remember either? But what’s the point in that?”

“It’s really obvious,” she said, “I know it is. And the instant it happens, you’ll be so horny you can’t resist anybody who knows about it, the first person you see. Me too, and he says Jules too if she wants to be in on the party. Everyone and anyone who wants it, and if any of our other housemates seem interested or curious, then he’ll offer the suggestion to them too. All with the same trigger, so it’ll hit all of us at once, just as long as there’s nobody around who would have a problem with it. He asked me if it was okay, and I thought it was so cool, but he made me forget exactly what it is when he actually gave me the suggestion. Guess you’re a little better at forgetting than I am.”

Now it was my turn to blush. I knew that was true, I’d never been able to remember something if he told me not to, and half the time I might not even notice that I’d been in trance. But now I’d learned there was something I should be looking forward to, I was filled with the now-familiar mix of excitement and apprehension. I was scared, but looking forward to it so much more because of that.

Alex had to go once she’d finished her sandwich, and while her mouth was full I put mine to good use teasing every part of her body. It was great, I’ll admit, and made me feel as good as it did her, but I’d been so excited by the news of the next big surprise that I couldn’t contain myself, and I was still horny as hell when I finally gave up my attempts to persuade my lover to stay.

“Sorry, Livvy,” she left me with one last kiss under the dome in the foyer, and then I stood wondering what to do with myself until Master got home. As I thought, my eyes drifted up to the gigantic silver bell over my head. “All of us at once.” she’d said. He wouldn’t, would he?

I couldn’t wait to find out.