The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Epilogue

Emma Kincaid looked up at her roommate and laughed silently to herself as the other girl’s eyes dived back to the philosophy textbook propped on the bed in front of her. Emma’s interests focused strictly on young men, but the shapely beauty couldn’t resist subtly teasing her bookish friend once she’d noticed her straying eyes.

This evening, still damp from the shower, she leaned against the edge of the sink and carefully used her razor to scrape away a little more of the lotion surrounding the auburn landing strip above her bare pussy. It would have been just as easy, and more convenient, to do it in the shower, but then she couldn’t have watched the way Shefali tried not to watch her.

The other girl was a puzzle, no doubt about it, and Emma didn’t like puzzles. She’d been poking at this one for over a year and a half now. Shefali Killian had the darkest skin Emma had ever seen, the deep black of a moonless night, but she didn’t look Negroid. Her equally dark, slightly wavy hair felt to the middle of her back—when it wasn’t pinned up, like now—and never looked kinky.

When they’d met, Emma had asked if Shefali was an African name, and had been told shortly that it was Indian. The parents in the picture on the desk were clearly Caucasian. It was easy to guess she was adopted, even if Emma hadn’t heard of the ongoing adoption project for African girls that TRAINCO ran in Springfield. But it was a curiosity, no doubt about it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party with me?” Emma asked again, wiping herself clean and inspecting her work. “You know there will be some cute boys there, and you’d drive them crazy.”

“No,” sighed Shefali, “I have to finish reading this chapter—again. It just doesn’t stay in my head.” She allowed herself another look at Emma’s lithe body. “Besides, you’d take all the good ones, anyway.”

The girl was exasperating, Emma thought. She studied like a fiend, which wasn’t exactly a bad attribute in a roommate; it had certainly helped Emma’s grades. But Shefali acted like some boy-shy prepubescent girl, which was so incongruous it drove Emma crazy.

For starters, Shefali’s trim body was so clearly built for sex it would have made Emma jealous, if she wasn’t so confident she herself had what boys wanted and knew how to share it with them. Shefali didn’t look at all like somebody who needed to watch her figure, and she didn’t make an issue of dieting, but she ate like a bird and spent most of the time guzzling some crappy energy drink. It made Emma’s bladder ache when she thought about it, and the once she’d tried one, she’d had to spit it out. Shefali had just laughed and agreed when Emma complained it tasted like piss! The spiffy TRAINCO sports bottle was nice, especially when she went jogging, but it stayed filled with water after that.

And that was another thing, Emma thought, as she shimmed a pair of skimpy panties up her long legs. For such a knockout, Shefali was incredibly shy. She didn’t wear frumpy clothes, far from it, but it was spring of their sophomore year and Emma didn’t think she’d ever seen her roommate naked. They borrowed clothing from each other from time to time, and Emma knew Shefali owned pretty underwear, but she practically never saw it. If you could get her to look at you when she spoke, you could see Shefali had a stud in her pierced tongue, and once Emma thought she’d maybe gotten a glimpse of a nipple stud, but she still wasn’t sure. To Emma’s mind, if you were going to do something like that, you’d want to flaunt it—like the tattoo she’d gotten around her arm last year on spring break.

But Shefali didn’t go on trips for spring break; she went home to her parents. She didn’t flaunt her body, or her piercings—whatever she had. If she went to a party, she’d nurse a drink in a corner and maybe talk sci-fi with somebody. More often, she lay on her bed in a sweatshirt and shorts, like now, and studied. She didn’t chase guys, or let the few who persisted in chasing her get any hint of interest. Emma had spent most of her freshman year thinking Shefali was a lesbian, but there was no indication she was interested in girls, either.

The current tease was sort of an outgrowth of that. What had started as subtle probing for curiosity’s sake had evolved to an unspoken detente where Emma didn’t admit she was going out of her way to titillate Shefali, and Shefali didn’t admit she paid any notice to Emma. It was a little harmless fun, where the auburn-haired vixen could strut her stuff in a safe environment without worrying about an overeager admirer taking things the wrong way.

Just now, she was at the top of her form. Emma sat on the end of her bed and slowly worked on the patterned thigh-high stockings she planned to wear that night. It was subtle, but there was nothing like a flash of the darker band beneath a dress or skirt to hold a guy’s attention. It took her several minutes to get them up and straightened properly, but Emma wryly noted she hadn’t heard Shefali turn a page the entire time.

Emma slipped on her heels to protect the hose from the floor and started blow-drying her hair. It was nice being young enough to get away with just good hair and a nice lipstick, she reflected, thinking of how long her mother would spend on her face before going out. The coed’s short auburn tresses, falling not much past her jaw line, didn’t take long to arrange.

It didn’t take much time after that for Emma to don her lace bra and put on the new dress she’d decided to wear. Shefali had given up on pretending to read and set her text aside, watching her roommate finish dressing.

“That bra doesn’t work, Em,” Shefali weighed in, just as Emma came to the same conclusion herself. The dress was quite sheer, requiring something underneath it, and Emma had thought when she purchased it her lingerie would be fine. Now that she saw the completed ensemble, the color was not quite right, verging on clashing, and the bra covered just a bit more than the dress did.

“Drat,” Emma complained, after twitching the dress failed to fix the coverage problem. Together with the color clash, it was unacceptable. She removed the dress and bra and tried the dress by itself. “What do you think, Shefali?”

Her roommate studied her closely, gesturing her to turn around, before standing up and walking over to examine Emma from a different angle. “Well, you certainly don’t need a bra, but I think the dress does. It’s kind of transparent, Em, and your nipples show through pretty clearly.” She thought about it minute and added, “I don’t think I’d go to a campus party wearing that.”

Emma bit her tongue, foregoing the obvious rejoinder that Shefali wouldn’t wear this dress anywhere, bra or not. In any case, she agreed. “I don’t know that I have anything,” she sighed, and began examining her lingerie drawer. The colored things were all wrong, her black lace bra had even more coverage than the rejected one, and her everyday things were too plain to be displayed the way the dress demanded.

“I don’t,” Emma cursed. “I spent all week looking forward to wearing this dress! Shefali, do you have anything I could borrow?” She looked hopefully at the black girl.

“Well,” Shefali said slowly, thinking, “it’d pretty much have to be black.” She ran a finger down the line of the dress across Emma’s bust, finished before the startled redhead could react. “This dress is cut pretty low, Em.” She considered a moment longer, until Emma was twitching with impatience. “It’s gotta be this dress, huh?”

“Please,” Emma nodded, looking hopeful, and brightened at her roommate’s resigned expression. “You have one?” She took a step toward Shefali’s dresser, only to be brought up short by the other girl’s outstretched arm.

“I’m wearing it,” Shefali sighed. “You’re pretty high-maintenance, Em.” She shrugged and pulled her sweatshirt over her head, catching her hair in the process so it tumbled down her back after she pulled it free.

Emma was torn between delight at getting the bra and curiosity at finally seeing her friend semi-nude. At first, it was difficult to see anything because the bra blended so seamlessly into Shefali’s dark skin. Then Shefali released the front clasp and Emma literally didn’t know where to look. The bra was stiff lace, very low cut, with an intricate butterfly pattern and transparent straps—just what Emma would have chosen.

Shefali’s breasts were high, firm mounds, but Emma already knew that. What she saw clearly for the first time were the ruddy nipples tipping them, each transfixed with a shiny barbell. The black girl’s torso and abs were as sleek and toned as her own.

“They’re just tits, Em. Are you going to try this on?” With a start, Emma realized she’d been staring. She unzipped the dress again and slid out of it, exchanging it for the bra. Now it was possible to admire it more closely, taking in the detail of the pattern, the lace trim, and Shefali’s faint scent on it.

“Nice perfume, Shefali,” Emma commented, pulling on the bra and fastening the clasp. “I might want to try some of it sometime.” She looked at herself in the mirror. “What do you think?”

The bra looked good, the pattern showing clearly against her lightly bronzed skin, and the lace trim just barely covered her nipples. “I think you’re not quite there.” Shefali set the dress on the bed and stepped up behind her, tugging slightly on the bra until it covered her areolas too. Her dark hands cupped Emma’s breasts, testing the fit, and then stroked the straps straight and smooth, adjusting their length just slightly. “Perfect.”

Emma was surprised to realize her nipples were hard against the lace, but Shefali had already stepped away to retrieve the dress. She stepped into it and let Shefali zip her up, already looking in the mirror again.

It was just perfect. A butterfly cradled each breast, clearly highlighting how little fabric was present, suggesting what must be there to be seen, but slyly managing to reveal nothing unfit for polite company. Emma couldn’t imagine ever wearing a different bra with this dress.

The only problem was that now it was clear her panties didn’t match the bra. “You have the bottoms too, right?” she asked, turning to Shefali.

Her roommate’s expression turned reluctant. “Em, I’m wearing them!”

Emma didn’t intend to be denied. “Oh, come on, Shefali! You had a shower this morning; all you did is sit in them all day. I don’t mind. Please?” She deployed her best pleading face. “Please, please, please, please? I’ll spend all day tomorrow studying p-chem with you!”

Shefali heaved a heavy sigh. “’All day’ means at least 4 or 5 hours, right? And not starting after dinner?”

The redhead yipped her agreement with a small excited hop, and quickly reached under her dress to push down her unwanted panties.

Much more slowly, Shefali unfastened her shorts and slid them down her legs. Again, it was difficult for Emma to see much of the black panties against dark skin, but it was clear Shefali was completely clean-shaven. Emma caught just a hint of the intriguing dark coral hue of her cleft— and was that a metallic flash near the top?!—before Shefali pulled on her shorts again. “They’re wet,” Shefali admitted, handing over the bikinis.

Emma knew the other girl was blushing furiously, even if her skin was too dark to show it; her own face felt warm too. On impulse, she brought the panties to her nose, inhaling a heady scent of honeyed musk. Her head swam and Emma was shocked when she wet herself, a brief burst of urine splattering her abandoned underwear on the floor.

Shefali crouched in front of her, pushing her face into Emma’s crotch. Emma tried to push her away with one hand, but that impulse lasted about as long as it took her roommate’s studded tongue to tease her clit for the first time. After that, Emma was pulling Shefali into her and sucking on the soiled underwear in her hand between gasps.

“Oh, fuck, Shefali,” the redhead got out between breaths, “if I knew girls tasted like this”—she jerked—“I would have turned bi years ago!” A slick finger stroking her virgin anus in time with two others probing her pussy and continued attention to her aching clit teased Emma into a shuddering orgasm.

When she could trust her balance again, the redhead discarded the panties and reached down, drawing Shefali upwards by pulling on the studs embedded in her nipples. Shefali’s face gleamed with moisture and her eyes shone with passionate desire that Emma suspected reflected her own. The two girls kissed hungrily, grinding their bodies together.

“Don’t ruin your dress,” Shefali whispered when they came up for air.

With a gleam in her eye, Emma rejoined, “I’ll strip if you will,” and unzipped herself without waiting for a response. “What?” she asked when Shefali hesitated. A huge wet spot shone on the front of the black girl’s shorts. “Don’t chicken out on me now, Shefali; you’re the first girl I’ve let hit on me since elementary school!”

“You smell so good, Em, and I’m afraid to hurt you,” her roommate admitted, somewhat confusingly.

“I’m a big girl, and I can look after myself,” Emma proclaimed, stepping out of the dress and tossing it in the general direction of her bed. She backed Shefali up until she collapsed backwards onto the other bed, and then quickly stripped off the other girl’s shorts. A pop of the bra clasp and both girls were effectively naked; Emma knelt to examine Shefali more closely.

The dark skin was completely hairless, toned with muscle, and buttery soft. As Emma had thought, a stud nestled just above Shefali’s swollen clit, piercing the hood. The black girl’s labia had flowered open, the coral of her inner lips a vivid contrast to her skin. Everything was slicked with viscous feminine desire, smelling of musky honey that Emma realized came from Shefali herself instead of a perfume bottle.

The redhead leaned down, inhaling her roommate’s essence and preparing to taste her, when Shefali’s lips parted and something began bulging outwards. Emma jerked back with a surprised shriek, and a spray of something caught her in the face. She fell on her butt, wetting the floor as her bladder emptied itself, and stared at Shefali in aroused fascination.

Two flexible wands, about an inch in diameter and the same dusky coral as her lips, slowly emerged from Shefali’s glistening sex until they extended perhaps eight inches, arching up towards her navel and gleaming with a thick coating of iridescent slime. Shefali tensed and the organs suddenly swelled, doubling in diameter and sprouting spines like a blowfish before retreating, so that only the pulsing, dripping tips showed.

“I’ll try not to hurt you, Em,” Shefali panted as she stood up and helped her wide-eyed, mesmerized roommate to the bed.

Emma thought only about how much she craved the penetration that was coming and how beautiful and special Shefali’s cocks were.

She climaxed as they spread her open in both holes at once, again when they surpassed the greatest depth a boy had plumbed and began inflating inside her, and a third time when the spines extended, locking Shefali inside her as burning ichor began forcing itself into her spasming body. She barely noticed the pain.

The party was completely forgotten as the two young women spent the evening in feverish experimentation. Shefali introduced Emma to golden showers, both of them drinking until their bladders were filled to bursting before waiting impatiently to taste each other’s tart urine. They tried 69ing each other, with Emma sucking one penis and giving a hand job to the other; the spines were softer than they looked but she still nearly choked when the organ inflated in her throat. She assured Shefali she’d do better with practice.

When Shefali admitted she hadn’t lost her “girl virginity,” Emma scrambled to retrieve her vibrator from its hiding place. There didn’t seem to be room for a third occupant in that rose-colored pussy; Emma thought it might be possible, but every time Shefali started getting excited, her cocks extended and expanded, getting in the way.

Inspired by the feel of warm jelly leaking from her stretched back door, Emma tried inserting the vibrator into Shefali’s ass instead. Both of them were delighted with the results. As Emma pistoned her lover’s butt and stroked the clit ring, Shefali wailed and mauled her nipples. The cocks inflated hugely, looking like miniature cacti, and began fountaining thick slime into the air. It didn’t come in spurts, like Emma had seen from boys, but in continuous streams that arced halfway to the ceiling before falling back to Shefali’s tummy and the bed, and then Emma when she pulled them to divert the discharge onto herself.

The pizza delivery guy gaped at the girl who opened the dorm room door just before 1 AM. She glowed with that “just been fucked” look, her short auburn hair was matted with something unidentifiable, and her hard nipples thrust against the chemise—which was both inside-out and on backwards. The entire room reeked of sex. He tried to conceal his growing erection as he passed over the medium vegetarian pizza and a bag with six 2-liter bottles of diet Mountain Dew. He was still making change when the girl gasped and started pissing herself right in front of him. She slammed the door in his face, leaving him with a tip larger than the price of the order and a raging hard-on. That was one crazy chick, he thought, looking forward to finishing his shift and meeting his girl.

“Shefali!” Emma laughed, leaning against the closed door, “don’t do that!” Her hand had flown to her crotch by reflex, but now she was rubbing herself through the sodden material of her tap shorts. Shefali wore a set of Emma’s pajamas too, her nipple studs pressing against the thin fabric of the top, and her cocks probed the shorts, obscenely tenting their glistening crotch.

“I can’t help it, Em,” Shefali giggled, “just seeing you makes me want you more.” She backed the redhead up against the door and kissed her, tugging the shorts so she could extend through a leg hole to access Emma’s cunt. The angle was wrong and both organs wanted to enter the same hole, but the sensation of bristly pressure against her clit sparked Emma as she embraced her lover.

It was hard to believe, but in less than six hours, Emma felt as if she’d bonded with Shefali in some special way that would never be broken or duplicated. She looked deeply into the dark eyes facing her and saw the same devotion, love and desire she felt mirrored in them.

But whatever her heart and clitoris felt, her stomach reminded her it wanted something solid in it. “Let’s eat before the pizza gets cold.” The girls broke their embrace, and Emma collected the box from the desk by the door. “How in the world are we supposed to drink all of this soda?” she wondered, looking at the bottles rolling on the floor.

“We are not,” Shefali announced pompously, retrieving one of the bottles. “Watch this!” She opened it and, to Emma’s amazement, proceeded to drink steadily until the bottle was empty. A small burp punctuated the achievement. “I will suffer the pangs of artificial sweeteners. You are going to be drinking something much better.” She opened a second bottle and resumed drinking.

“How do you do that?” wondered the stunned coed as another two liters disappeared before her eyes. “Won’t that make you sick?”

“I’m fine,” Shefali assured her after another burp, “but the aftertaste is a little nasty.” She picked up a piece of pizza and delicately removed the mushrooms, placing them on Emma’s side. “I’m not like other girls, Em; Dr. Patel says my plumbing is a little different.”

Emma almost choked on her pizza at the magnitude of the understatement. “A little different? You’re a lot different, in a very good way,” she finished with a purr. “Could I look again, I mean without distractions?” she asked diffidently.

“I’ll try,” Shefali promised, and quickly shed her shorts. She sat back down with legs spread; looking intently at Emma, she slowly erected herself.

“You’re huge,” Emma exclaimed, admiring the delicate spines of the inflated organs and amazed once again she’d had both of them inside her simultaneously. She could feel herself juicing again at the thought of it.

“Never bigger than with you, Em,” Shefali admitted with an admiring look of her own. “But you should see my dad’s—he’s like twice as long, although he only has one!”

Emma’s mind stumbled on the statement and took a long moment to restart. “Your father? He has something like this? But I thought you were adopted...”

They both looked at the family picture atop Shefali’s desk. The trio looked so normal, except the daughter was so... black. “I never said that!” Shefali laughed. “It’s complicated, but those are my real biological parents, honest.”

The thought had been there much earlier, but it crystallized in Emma’s mind right then. She wasn’t going to Cancun for spring break; she was going to visit Springfield with Shefali and meet her parents. The mystery was irresistible, and Emma was a girl who didn’t like puzzles.

Just now, she had a more immediate puzzle on her mind. “Do you think you can fit both of them in my pussy at once?”