The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

PUSSY-PILING

Something was holding her up by the arms... her knees and calves were pressed against the floor.... She blinked—and then her eyes went open wide as she heard the other woman’s voice.

“Hello, Jonelle.”

Zara Markov’s voice. Zara Markov’s face, too, she realized as her vision came into focus. The target of her investigation was standing six feet in front of her, dressed up as if for a formal party.

The last thing Jonelle remembered, she’d been watching a black-market go-between, waiting for his buyer to make contact. Apparently his buyer—one of Markov’s people—had spotted her first. Now, the operation was blown to hell, and she had to get out of this mess... somehow.

Zara grinned at her. “Since you’re so curious about what I’m doing with the equipment I obtained from your agency, I’m going to give you a personal demonstration.”

She shook her head and tried to cry “No!” The ballgag stuck in her mouth muffled her protest to a vague grunt. She hadn’t been told exactly what had been stolen from the Advanced Projects Department; the possibilities ranged from worrisome to horrifying.

“I insist.” Zara reached into a pouch hanging from her belt and took out a metal circlet. Holding it up in both hands, she stepped forward.

Desperately, Jonelle tried to pull away. Her legs were firmly bound in place, with several thick loops binding her calves to... not the floor, actually, but a raised platform about a foot high. Her arms were similarly bound to vertical supports at her sides, holding them straight out from her body. She was able to lean back a little, but it made no difference. The headband was firmly pressed into place despite her last-ditch efforts to shake it off.

“Now, you’re ready to begin.” Zara raised her voice and called out, “Pris! Delia!”

Jonelle heard a door open behind her, and footsteps. Looking over her shoulder, she saw an auburn-haired woman with trim athletic curves and a statuesque blonde. Both of them wore sheer nightgowns—and headbands.

Zara cleared her throat, getting Jonelle’s attention. “Pris and Delia are wearing scanners and broadcasters that will transmit their mental impressions. You are wearing the receiver and inducer unit, which will convey those impressions into your brain.”

The pair approached the dais on which Jonelle knelt. She heard them settle into place near her feet, then felt her bootlaces being tugged.

“These impressions aren’t fully-formed thoughts. They’re just that—impressions... bits of raw sensation, emotional resonances, associated desires... that sort of thing.”

Jonelle felt her left boot tugged off her foot, and then her right. Her socks quickly followed. Fingers began stroking her feet.

“So in addition to getting a foot massage, you’ll share the experience of giving a foot massage.”

Trying to ignore the hands grasping and kneading her feet, Jonelle glared at Zara. What the hell was she trying to do? Whatever it was, it wasn’t working, as far as she could tell....

“I can see your fingers twitch. That’s an echo of the muscle feedback you’re receiving.”

Her fingers were flexing, Jonelle realized. Her hands felt odd, as if there were something brushing against them, almost but not quite in her grasp. The headband was doing something to her. She told herself it wasn’t anything important... yet.

“That’s just the ‘raw sensation’ part. The ‘emotional resonances’ and ‘associated desires’ are more subtle, but just as compelling.”

Zara paused a beat, then leered. “Pris and Delia are a couple of highly lecherous lesbians, and your feet are getting them hot and bothered. Not just your feet, of course—they’re undressing you with their eyes, visualizing their hands sliding up your legs and onto your body.”

Jonelle tried to yank her right leg free of the restraints, and then her left. The only result was that Pris and Delia grasped her feet a bit tighter and pressed their thumbs a bit harder against her tensing muscles.

Zara continued, “Those erotic images are beginning to infiltrate your mind. You may reject them, you may even tell yourself that they repulse you... but you won’t be able to ignore them.”

...A weird tingle went up Jonelle’s spine, and she shuddered. She was naked....

No, she was still wearing her pants and blouse. She shook her head, partly to clear it and partly as a gesture of denial.

“I see that it’s begun,” Zara said smugly. She paused, looking her captive in the eye for a long moment. Jonelle held her gaze, refusing to let herself relax even slightly in response to the massage.

“For a moment, you were drawn into their fantasy—not only the imagery, but also the feelings. Until your stiff-necked straightness reasserted itself, you shared and enjoyed another girl’s visualization of you as a lesbian sex object.”

“NNMMMNNNM!!” Jonelle shook her head as she protested into her gag.

“Don’t bother trying to deny it. I saw the blissful expression in your eyes for a moment before they went all wide and agitated.”

...A hand moved up her left calf....

Her pants leg, and the shackles around her calf, were still in place undisturbed. Jonelle gritted her teeth, then forced herself to suppress the reaction. Too late; her captor’s grin showed that she’d noticed.

“Each flash of mental imagery and sensation and fantasy will condition you to enjoy the idea of making love with another woman. Step by step, your resistance will be chipped away, and replaced with surrender, and then acceptance, and finally enthusiasm.”

Again, Jonelle shook her head.

“Yes, Jonelle. It won’t take very long at all.” Zara let that statement sink in. “Especially since I’m about to speed up the process a bit.”

She raised her voice a bit, directing it toward the back of the room. “Gwynn!”

Jonelle looked behind her, and saw another nightgown-and-headband-clad woman approaching. She was slender, almost elfin, her delicate features framed by bright red shoulder-length curls. There was an intense gleam in her green eyes as she slowly looked the captive up and down, before finally taking her place behind the little platform. Jonelle felt the other woman’s legs and body against hers as she knelt close behind her.

Hands reached around Jonelle’s body, fumbling a bit and then finding the front button of her pants. She bucked and evaded as best she could; it did no good. She tried to hunker down onto her ankles, but the way her forearms were bound to the side supports made it impossible. Helplessly, she watched her pants tugged down.

Fingers slid under the waistband of her panties at the back. Jonelle braced herself to be stripped bare from waist to knees. Instead, Gwynn’s hands moved under the fabric to grasp and firmly squeeze her buttocks.

...She stumbled forward, pulled against Gwynn’s body. Teeth seized her ear, not quite hard enough to draw blood. A low growl, “You’re mine now, bitch!"....

Jonelle took a breath, and then another. She continued staring into space for a moment, then focused her attention on Zara.

“Judging from the shell-shocked look on your face, you just got a glimpse of what Gwynn has in store for you,” she smirked. “You’d never guess it to look at her, but she’s quite the aggressive little butch.”

...Her body rocked as Gwynn thrust a thigh up into her crotch. Warm wetness rubbed against Jonelle’s own thigh. Her gasp was cut short as a tongue invaded her mouth....

Zara was standing there in front of her... back in reality. She realized that she felt relieved to see her. Was that some kind of Stockholm Syndrome head game—Zara making herself Jonelle’s anchor to sanity? Jonelle looked around for an alternative. There was nothing else in her view but featureless gray walls and ceiling and floor.

“You’ll get used to it,” Zara said in a mock-reassuring tone. “In fact, as your new sexual preference takes root and grows on you, you may find that you prefer a partner who takes the direct approach.” She cast her gaze over Jonelle’s shoulders at Pris and Delia. “If you let the Twat-Tease Twins have their way, they’ll spend the whole night fondling and rubbing and licking you everywhere except between the legs. They get off on making you beg for it.”

...She was stretched out languidly on soft silky fluff. A warm curvy body in front of her brushed her legs and tits. Another behind her breathed into her ear and murmured things she couldn’t quite hear. She badly wanted to touch her needy clit, but her hands were tied behind her back....

Jonelle blinked. Was that Pris and Delia’s fantasy—to take her to bed and mercilessly tease her?

That’s what Zara had just implied. Was it all just power-of-suggestion trickery? No, she realized—the flashes of being seized and ravished started before she’d known that Gwynn was a hardcore bulldyke. That sort of thing wasn’t a fantasy she’d ever had—not with a man, and certainly not with another woman. So it had to be an externally imposed suggestion from the headband. Zara obviously knew what she’d been experiencing....

...Fingers slid up her thigh, slowing down as they approached her crotch. She tried to scoot her body down toward them. It wasn’t easy—her feet were tied just like her hands. The fingers lifted away, and started again from just above her knee. She heard herself moaning, and another feminine voice giggling....

As her real surroundings swam back into her awareness, Jonelle tried to get her train of thought back on track. She tried to keep thinking the situation through. Maybe she’d come up with something that would help her resist. It was so hard to think when she wanted to slip away somewhere and jill off....

Jonelle’s eyes went wide. She wasn’t immersed in one of these fantasy reveries. This was reality, with the gray walls and Zara in front of her and two women rubbing her feet and another woman groping her butt. She couldn’t possibly be horny for real! And yet... the tingling in her pussy was undeniable.

“I see that you’re getting close to the edge.” Zara was staring at her crotch—was she getting wet and showing through her panties? “It’s time for another good push.”

“Roselle! Tiffany!”

Somehow, Jonelle simultaneously wondered what they were going to do to her and tried not to think about it. The answer to that question was fairly obvious, even before the new arrivals circled around the dais to stand in front of her. The taller brunette licked her lips as her voluptuous auburn-haired companion began unbuttoning Jonelle’s blouse. As the garment was pulled open, Zara leaned forward holding a little utility blade and snipped through her bra straps.

Gently, each of them took one of Jonelle’s breasts in hand and jiggled it, while Zara enjoyed the view. Smirking, her captor purred, “You can’t deny that you’re enjoying this. I can tell that you’ve reached the tipping point—you just need a little more encouragement to fully embrace your new cravings.”

...Everything was dark. She felt cloth across her eyes, and something warm and gooey spread over her bare skin from neck to calves. Tongues licked at her legs and belly and tits, slurping up the stuff. She squirmed in her wrist and ankle fetters....

A hard pinch to the butt brought her back to reality. Gwynn’s strokes and squeezes were getting firmer and wider-ranging, her fingers sometimes touching Jonelle’s inner thighs. It was just close enough to tease without doing anything to quench the fire in her loins. She chuckled into her gag at the thought of Miss Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am engaged in the same teasing tactics as Pris and Delia... whose hands had finished with her feet and were now caressing her thighs.

Jonelle shook her head. She couldn’t let herself get distracted! Getting drawn into this was what Zara wanted! She tried to glare defiantly at Zara, but she felt herself trembling—not at all the impression she was trying to give.

“I can tell that you’re almost ready to give in, Jonelle. Each erotic daydream puts you more and more in tune with your partner’s lesbian lust for you. Meanwhile, in reality...,” Zara paused and reached forward to stroke Jonelle’s chin. “...you have a half-dozen women turning up the sexual heat.”

It was true, Jonelle knew. Zara’s touch had made her shudder, and she realized that she was tilting her head into it like a cat being scratched under the chin. She wanted more. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted... she wanted Zara to touch her down there and make her cum. She could feel the wetness, the twitchiness, the raw need in her cunt.

...Her body was pressed hard against the wall. Fingers thrust into her, in just long enough to stoke the fire, then out as she moaned in frustration, again and again....

Her body reflexively shifted within her bonds, pressing her tits and ass as firmly into her companions’ hands as she could manage. The tweaking of her nipples sent thrills through her. Even the rough squeezes and pinches to her ass made her tingle with anticipation at the thought of being taken and fucked by the cute curvy no-nonsense dominatrix who was administering them.

“It’s time for you to give back a little, and show me how much you like girls now,” Zara declared. In response, Roselle and Tiffany shifted position so that each of them had a hand on one of Jonelle’s tits and one of her own breasts pressed into the bound woman’s outstretched palm. Without thinking about it, Jonelle flexed her fingers, feeling the soft firm flesh.

...Her hands squeezed down on her partner’s tits... harder... harder....

“I see that you like it. I knew you would!” Zara smirked

Jonelle blinked. She had to stop giving in to this! She had to do something! She did the only thing she could think of—suddenly squeeze down as hard as she could while trying to dig in her nails. The two women gasped, but did not retreat or even interrupt their own attentions to Jonelle’s breasts.

Zara chuckled. “Roselle and Tiffany like a bit of pain mixed in with their pleasure. Go ahead, do it again. Don’t worry; we trimmed your nails so they’re just long enough to sting without drawing blood.”

That last flash must have been their fantasy. She should have realized that. Even without the clue, she should have realized Zara was playing a trick, not giving her an opportunity. It was so hard to think....

...She was lying on her side, another woman’s hips pressing into hers. Her rear end slid backward into something—ZAP! She jerked forward, her butt stinging and her pussy tingling from the spark. The other woman tried to resist, but slid inexorably backward—ZAP! Now she was being pushed back again....

She shuddered. Her body relaxed a bit, then tensed again as Gwynn slapped her on the backside, once, twice, thrice, each impact a bit harder than the last. The reality and the fantasies were uncomfortably close... especially the way both were dominated by shuddering urgency building between her legs.

Her eyes went wide and her hands clenched as Gwynn spanked her again. Her fingers closed tight around Roselle and Tiffany’s tits. That had to be painful. They both smiled beatifically at her.

...Pris and Delia and Gwynn and Roselle and Tiffany and Zara surrounded her. They were clad in skintight black latex from neck to toe. She wore thigh boots and high gloves of the same material; her body bore only a loose network of straps that emphasized everything and concealed nothing. The women circled like musical-chairs players, awaiting the signal for one of them to move in and take possession of her....

The spanking stopped. Gwynn slipped her hands around, sliding fingertips under Jonelle’s panty waistband just far enough to brush the fringes of her bush. Pris and Delia’s caresses slid up her inner thighs, almost but not quite reaching her pubes. Their touch was close and yet so far from where she needed it.

Jonelle nodded, willing Zara to understand the gesture. She was ready to surrender. She was ready to give herself to Zara, to all these women, if they would only make the need go away.

...She was naked, except for a chastity belt with a dildo protruding from the front. She ran through twisting passages. She had to find and catch and fuck one of the other girls—once her partner was satisfied, the belt would be transferred and the favor would be returned....

Zara smiled at her. Was Zara letting herself be caught? No, that was the flash of fantasy; this was reality....

“I think you’re ready to finish this, Jonelle.”

Jonelle took a deep shuddery breath, eagerly awaiting whatever Zara had in mind. She saw Zara give a wave of her hand, and moaned a protest into her gag as the other women removed their hands and backed away.

“Don’t fret, Jonelle,” Zara assured her as the others left the room. “You’ll have many opportunities to make love with all the other girls in the harem, one at a time, all at once, and everything in between. However, your moment of lesbian initiation is going to be just between you and me...”

As she spoke, Zara took another headband out of her pouch and placed it on her head. “...and my fantasies.”

Zara knelt before Jonelle, as if she were the prisoner and the bound woman were the captor. Slowly, delicately, she slid Jonelle’s panties down her legs, exposing the needy pussy behind the wet stain. She kissed Jonelle on the neck, and then the shoulder, and then the breast, and continued down her body....

...Jonelle stood naked, and equally naked Zara before her. She kissed Zara on the neck, and then the shoulder, and then the breast, and continued down her body....

Jonelle shivered as Zara’s breath ruffled her bush. The other woman’s tongue began to explore, brushing against her clit....

...She paused, exhaling a puff of breath onto Zara’s pubes, impishly imagining her reaction. She felt a thrill of satisfaction as she quickly found her partner’s clit....

Jonelle moaned into her gag as she felt her hips beginning to buck and sway into the stimulation. It was better than she’d ever thought possible....

...Smug satisfaction filled her as she felt her partner’s legs shuddering harder each time she thrust her tongue against the target. She heard moans, and then a gasp, “Ohhhh... it’s better than I ever imagined!...

Jonelle felt herself being swept away on the tide of imminent climax. The last coherent thoughts that ran through her head were the realization that she was completely losing track of the distinction between reality and fantasy, and the decision that she didn’t care.