The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jenny had been feeling odd for a few days. It wasn’t quite that she was sick, and it wasn’t quite that she was tired. She didn’t have allergies. In fact, it wasn’t quite a bad feeling at all. All things considered she felt quite nice. But definitely off. ‘Dazed’ might be the best word for it.

She had floated through her American Civics class on Tuesday without taking a single note, which was odd for her. The boy-who-always-wore-plaid (she didn’t know his actual name) had even commented on how she wasn’t writing for once, which marked only the third time all semester that he’d gotten up the nerve to talk to her.

Her usual walk home from the middle of campus yesterday had taken her forty-five minutes yesterday instead of the normal twenty. She has simply walked right by her front door, so lost in hazy daydreams that she hadn’t even realized she had reached her block.

Two days before that, she had written and sent six nearly identical emails to the captain of the school tennis team, outlining her schedule for the upcoming tournament season and which events she’d be able to compete in. She had only stopped when the captain had called her and asked why she kept sending the same information. The whole thing had only lasted a half hour.

Jenny knew she was behaving strangely, but she couldn’t figure out why. She hadn’t eaten anything strange recently except for that new sushi place on Pico, but none of the other people who had eaten there seemed off. She hadn’t been around any sick people. She wasn’t drinking, just like she never did leading up to tennis competitions. Her Spotify had been making odd humming sounds in the background of a lot of songs, but it wasn’t like that could zone somebody out like this.

The whole thing was concerning to her, but it wasn’t really alarming. That in itself was strange; she had a feeling in the back of her mind that she should be more worried, but she just wasn’t. It would work itself out. Things always did. See, this is what I’m talking about, she said to herself as she got dressed. My friends are always calling me the worrier, the serious one. Since when do I just take things nonchalantly as they come? She grunted the worry away, her mind going fuzzy as it had so often the past week.

She finished getting dressed and gave herself a cursory glance in the mirror to make sure she looked alright before she left. That glance turned into a curious study when Jenny saw what she was wearing. She was just going to the grocery store a couple blocks away, and she had meant to put on something casual, maybe jeans and a t-shirt, something suitable for running errands.

Instead she was faced with a reflection wearing a short white-and-green pleated skirt, a cream-colored tank top, and white ankle boots that consisted mostly of elaborate straps and stiletto heel. She’d only worn this outfit once before, to a rooftop party in Santa Monica with that boy Dylan, who she’d been really into until he moved back to Ohio or wherever he was from. She’d looked great that night—if a pretty risque—but another occasion to wear the ensemble had never really come up.

Until now? Jenny wasn’t sure why, but it seemed strange to be wearing a clubbing outfit just to piddle around town. Wouldn’t people think she was out of place? What kind of attention would she get?

Jenny seriously considered changing, but the thought faded from her head in bare seconds. After a couple of long moments staring blankly at herself in the mirror, she shook herself out of the daze. Three o’clock. I need to get to the store so I can still get to study group later. With that in mind, she slung her favorite Coach handbag over her shoulder and headed out, clicking down the sidewalk in her heels, slow but steady.

It was a beautiful day out. She lived not far from campus, in a residential neighborhood nestled in the nearby hills, filled with students and the various strata of support people that maintained the large, prestigious university. Her block butted right up against a small drag of shops and boutique restaurants, trees dotting gaps in the sidewalk next to wrought-iron trash cans.

Half the distance to the store passed in an eyeblink for her. She barely noticed the people around her, and only slightly-moreso noticed those who stared after her, mouths slightly agape. Long ago she had forced herself to come to terms with how much attention she got from strangers; there was no way to avoid it, and getting the creeps every time she set foot in public would just be hellish. At times she was even able to enjoy it. But seldom did she just simply not notice it.

He must really like my tank top, she thought just once, as she was forced to step around a young man on the sidewalk who had stopped to look at her. Dimly she was aware that he was behaving very rudely, gawking at her like that, but it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it might have normally.

The only other time that her thoughts snapped into clarity was when a bright new SUV pulled up at the curb beside her. The surprising closeness of the car rocked her out of her reverie and brought her attention to the moment.

The tinted passenger window rolled down, revealing a boy around her age. He was pleasant-looking if not handsome, with close-cropped black hair over olive skin. “Hey, you,” he said with a friendly smile.

“Me?” Jenny asked, stopping. She was the only person within thirty feet of the car.

The boy laughed. “Yes, you. What are you up to right now?”

She blinked, trying to understand the question. “I’m walking to the store,” she finally answered, as if he should already know that.

“Cool, cool,” he nodded. “You’re dressed for it.”

She looked down at herself, eyes filled with pale cleavage inside the slightly-darker exterior of her tank top. “Thanks.”

“So you’re not working right now?”

“Working?” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t have a job. I go to school here. I mean, I’m in college. Aren’t you?”

He laughed again, though she couldn’t tell why. “I am, matter of fact. Just needed to make sure about you. I’m Ronnie. These here are Carlo, Harry, and Edgar, but everyone calls him Cash.” Judging by his pointing, Carlo was driving the car. Jenny couldn’t see the others behind their tinted windows.

“Oh, hi. I’m Jenny.” She waved, feeling a little silly talking to them at the curb like this.

“Nice to meet you, Jenny,” Ronnie said politely. “Wanna come for a ride with us? We can take you to the grocery store. It’s probably too far to walk.”

She looked down the street to her right. The store wasn’t actually that far. If not for the gentle bend of the road she might be able to see it from here. She made this walk pretty often. But I’m not usually in heels when I do it, she rationalized. Maybe it really is too far.

“Um, maybe it is.” She paused for a moment. “I’m a political science major.” She wasn’t sure why she said that. It just seemed like something to say.

“I’m journalism,” Ronnie answered. “Poli-sci sounds interesting. Climb on in and tell me all about it.”

“Don’t you know that it’s a bad idea to get in the car with strangers?” she quipped. She tried to pair the jibe with a sarcastic smirk, but it didn’t quite come off that way. Even to her own ears it sounded like more of a genuine question.

“Look at that, she’s a little sharp after all,” Ronnie fired back. “I wouldn’t worry, we’re good guys. Hop on in and let’s go.”

It was hard to argue with that. They definitely seemed like good guys. “Sure,” Jenny agreed readily. “It’s probably too far to walk.”

Ronnie and Carlo exchanged a curious look as she parroted what Ronnie had said a moment ago. Jenny barely noticed. The rear door to the car opened up and Cash stepped aside to let Jenny into the car. He was wiry and blonde, and looked like he should be playing bass in a punk band.

She settled into the middle seat in the back, Cash on her right and Harry on her left. Harry tried and failed to force himself to make eye contact with her. As soon as the door closed, Carlo pulled away from the curb and into traffic. The passenger window hummed up, leaving them in the dark, pleasantly cool interior of the car, as quiet and comforting as a thick blanket over her head.

Ronnie turned around in his seat so he could chat with her eye-to-eye while Carlo drove. “So, Jenny.” He sounded like he was trying her name on for size. “Do you get in cars with strangers a lot?”

She laughed, high and soft. “Oh god no. This is the first time, probably ever.”

“Why not? You must get asked to all the time.”

She cocked her head again. She felt so confused today. “Why do you say that?”

Ronnie smiled sweetly. “Because you’re really hot, sweetie.”

“Crazy hot,” Harry blurted out suddenly. “Like what the fuck hot.”

Ronnie shot Harry a withering look. Jenny wasn’t sure why; he was awkward, but she could tell he was just trying to be nice. “Well, thanks,” she offered to smooth things over. Harry just grumbled to himself.

Ronnie took her encouragement with greater pleasure. “I’m glad you like being hot. You must really enjoy it.” When Jenny looked at him for clarification, he continued. “You look especially good all done up like that. It’s a very pretty outfit.”

“Real pretty body underneath it, too,” Cash chimed in. His voice was surprisingly deep.

“Thanks!” Jenny said again. These boys really were nice. “I try to stay in good shape.”

“I can tell,” Ronnie nodded. “You do cheerleading or something? I know I’ve seen you around somewhere.”

She shook her head. “Tennis. And a couple other things here and there.”

“That’s really cool.” She nodded along with him. It was really cool. It was good that he saw that. “I’m surprised that you can really play, what with... “ He gestured vaguely towards her.

“With what?”

He chuckled wryly to himself. “Your boobs, sweetheart. Don’t your boobs make sports kind of tough?”

She glanced down again. The enormous swell of her chest was familiar, even if the extent of her cleavage was against type. “Some, yeah. It’s not as bad as you think. There’s a lot of side-to-side movement, not as much consistent pounding as distance running or something like that.” The words came easily, practiced, even through the haze in her mind. She’d had to justify her breasts since her sophomore year of high school.

“Thank god for sports bras, huh?” Ronnie offered.

“You have no idea.” Jenny could feel Cash and Harry staring at her chest, but it didn’t make her as anxious as it might have.

“How big are they, anyway?”

Jenny hesitated for a second. She couldn’t be sure what he meant. “Um. This big?” She pointed to her chest, making it as clear as she could.

The four boys burst out in laughter at that. Even Harry, sulking uncomfortably to her left, chuckled.

“No bra today, hm? Are you even wearing panties?”

The fog in her head couldn’t stop that from seeming strangely forward. “It’s not polite, you know, to ask a girl… You know, stuff like this.”

“Dude, she’s on drugs,” Carlo said sidelong to Ronnie, so quiet that Jenny could barely hear.

Before Ronnie could respond, Jenny did. “No I’m not! I’m totally fine right now! You don’t know.”

Ronnie glanced at her, then back at Carlo. “I don’t know either, dude. Just roll with it.” He turned his attention to the back seat again. “I don’t want to be impolite,” he assured Jenny. “I just thought since you wore such a nice, pretty outfit you might be proud of all of it. Not just the outside parts.” His hand gently stroked at her leg just above the knee, several inches below the hem of her skirt.

That was an interesting thought. She was wearing panties. She could feel them, the pale green lace thong that matched her skirt so nicely. It was nestled between her ass cheeks exactly like it should be. And it was super cute. Why wouldn’t she want to tell people about it?

“Are you asking to see my panties?” She blinked heavily.

“Sure, that sounds really nice to me. Doesn’t it sound nice to you guys?”

“Definitely,” Cash said again. His hand stroked along her skirt, fiddling with the hem delicately. Carlo and Harry agreed in their own ways.

“See, we’re all ok with it. And I definitely think you’ll feel good if you show us.”

“I like feeling good,” Jenny agreed.

“I know you do, sweetheart. And it would feel really good to show us your panties, wouldn’t it?”

She nodded. “It would feel really good to show you my panties.”

“That’s good, sweetie,” Ronnie cooed. “We want you to show us. Go ahead and put your feet up here so we can see.”

Jenny got what he was asking. She slid forward in her seat just a touch and raised her feet up, bracing them against the headrests of the seat in front of her, the points of her ankle boots indenting the leather slightly. Her skirt fell back, revealing her thong, tightly pressed against her pussy, accented against her pale skin.

“Holy fuck,” Harry spat.

Ronnie ignored him. “Oh, that’s good. That’s very good. Doesn’t that feel better?” She nodded. His voice was soothing. “Look at how nice that is.” His hand snaked out and rubbed over her exposed thighs, across her ass. “You look beautiful like that. Legs spread all nice. Beautiful ass, too.” His hand would have tickled if it didn’t feel all nice and warm.

She gasped. His fingers weren’t just on her skin now. They were rubbing at her thong, gently but insistently right over her pussy. Little bee stings of pleasure shot up through her. “How does that feel?” he asked, his voice soft as kitten fur.

“Good,” she answered lazily. Her abs contracted with a grunt as his finger grazed over her panties right above her clit. Cash reached out, too, gently massaging her nipple through her tank top with the crook of his palm.

“I’m glad. It should feel good. Are you sure you don’t do this a lot?”

“Never.”

“That’s a shame. You clearly love it. Spreading your legs and being touched like this.”

The dull feeling in her head deepened with every gentle stroke of his hand. “I love spreading my legs,” she drawled happily.

“Why’s she talking like that?” Carlo’s voice was distant. Unimportant.

“Who knows? I’m just going with it.” Ronnie’s tone was still full of humor.

Something occurred to her. “Are we… are we at the grocery yet?”

“Shhhhh… Don’t worry about that. We can drive around for a while first. You’ll get to where you need to go.”

“Thanks. I’m a really busy girl.”

“Nah, you don’t need to be busy. You don’t have to do anything except just be right here, hanging out with us.”

“Ronnie, what the fuck, man,” Harry interjected with strain.

“Shut up, Harry. For once in your life, just be cool ok?” Ronnie’s voice made Jenny frown. Ronnie saw it and his tone softened again. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Just enjoy this. Enjoy how much we like touching you.”

“I’m enjoying this,” she agreed.

“It’s too bad your thong is in the way. Go ahead and pull it over so we can see your pussy.”

That gave Jenny pause. Something about that made her uncomfortable. “See my pussy?”

“It’s ok, honey. It’s a good thing. You have such a beautiful little pussy. It’s ok for you to show it to all of us.”

That was better. Less threatening. She liked the compliments he gave her. “I have a beautiful pussy,” she declared. She had never said that out loud, but it really was true.

“Good.” Ronnie’s smile was brighter than the rest of the world around it. “It’s fun how you repeat after me like that. Try it again. You have a beautiful pussy.”

“I have a beautiful pussy.” She was more confident this time.

“It feels so good to show your body off like this.”

“It feels so good to show off my body.” It was easy to repeat what he said. It made sense.

“You love showing off your body.”

“I love showing off my body.”

“There’s no reason not to show off your body.”

“There’s no reason not to show off my body.”

Carlo’s rumble interrupted them. “This chick is nuts.”

Ronnie swatted him quiet. “Head to the house.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Are you paying attention? She wants to come home with us.”

“What are you talking about?” Jenny interjected. “Paying attention?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re doing so good. You were just about to pull your thong over, show us that gorgeous little pussy.”

“Oh. Right.” She smiled. She liked being called gorgeous.

She reached down to her thong, looping a couple of fingers inside the center of it, and pulled it aside. Her pussy felt cool in the gentle circulating air of the car. Her right breast ached pleasantly from Cash’s touch.

“That’s perfect, sweetie.” Ronnie’s voice slipped into her ear just as his finger slipped into her pussy. It took no effort from him, her lips were so slicked up. “Nice of you to shave for us.”

“Wax, actually,” she whimpered. “I’ve been doing it for a couple years.”

“It’s a great idea. You feel amazing inside.” His finger curled for emphasis, pressing against the front wall of her pussy. Her eyes opened wide as a wave of pleasure flowed out from his fingertip.

“Yes. Amazing.”

“Here, put your arms up so that Cash can take your top off. Let’s get those big sexy tits out in the open.”

“Mm hmm,” she hummed, lifting her tank top partway up. Cash helped her the rest of the way, letting her braless boobs bounce out into the open. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel cold. Or ashamed. She was flushed. Her smile came easy, her eyes sparkling. “This is so fun.”

“I’m glad. I’m so glad that we met.”

“I met her already,” Harry burst. His blubbering interruption made Jenny giggle. “We had a class together last semester. Psych 203, with Carlson.”

“You sure?” Ronnie asked.

“Fuck yeah. You think I’d forget her? Hottest girl at school.” He looked down sheepishly, then back at Jenny, his hands to himself. “I mean you’re… you’re really pretty.”

“The most pretty?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

“Uh. Yeah, yeah I guess so.”

She squeeze Harry and Cash’s legs, partly out of glee at Harry’s pronouncement and partly from the clenching pleasure in her gut. Ronnie’s finger still worked inside her.

“What made you decide you wanted to get naked with us today, Jenny?” Ronnie’s buttery voice was a welcome contrast from Harry’s nasal bubble.

“I don’t know,” she said to the distant air beyond the car’s roof. “It just seemed like a good idea. Get in the car, hang out, take my clothes off. I’m usually not like this, but I think I might want to change that.” She might as well have been speaking to a far-away star.

“I think you do. I think talking to me is helping you. I think you want to be a different person than you’ve ever been.”

She nodded. “I do want to be a different person.”

“Sluttier.”

“Sluttier?”

“Yes, sweetie. Slutty. Like what you’re doing right now. And more.”

“Slutty,” she agreed.

“It’s fun being slutty, isn’t it?”

A burst of heat flowed from his fingertip. “It really is,” Jenny cooed.

“You even know how to dress like a slut. Little skirt, little thong. Those heels are fantastic. And you even went with no bra. Those huge tits really help tell a story about you.”

Jenny nodded in agreement. “Everyone always notices them.”

“How could you not? You’re so tiny, big tits like that really stand out. Just as long as they don’t distract from the rest of you.”

Jenny felt a slight movement on her thigh. It was the strap of her purse, sliding over her skin as Ronnie gently grabbed it. “Here, I’ll take that,” he said. Jenny had almost forgotten she was carrying it.

Ronnie opened the purse and extracted her phone, glancing at it between hungry looks at her. “Okay, let’s see… Did you have any plans tonight?” Harry started to protest, but Ronnie shut him up with a look.

“Yeah,” Jenny nodded. “I have study group, and then my boyfriend and I are going to dinner.”

Ronnie clicked his tongue. “No you’re not, sweetie.”

“We’re not.”

“No. You’re going to be with us, getting fucked. You want us to fuck you, right?”

“Yeah!”

“Of course you do. Why else would you dress like that, or invite us to play with your pussy in the car?”

“Duh,” Jenny agreed. She can’t believe she hadn’t expressed it that simply before.

Before Jenny could answer, the car rolled to a gentle halt in front of a house. She looked around, confused. “Where are we?”

“My house,” Ronnie answered. “Come on, we’ll show you the inside.”

Jenny didn’t move. Something about this seemed like a very bad idea. She was alone here, in a place she didn’t recognize. She was with strange men. She was mostly naked. Her phone and her money were in their hands. Even through the daze in her mind, a sense of danger tickled. She tried focusing on it, tried to bring it to mind, tried to recall what it was to be lucid, like she had been until just a few days ago.

But that sense of danger paled to the pleasure pumping through her. Ronnie’s finger had found the right spot in her, his thumb working gently on her clit at the same time. Carlo’s hand on was her thigh. Cash’s palms mashed at her breasts. The pleasure came from everywhere, not least from the words that Ronnie leaked into her ear.

“Don’t worry,” he crooned. “Don’t worry about anything. Just come inside. Come inside with us.”

“I-inside,” she stuttered.

“Yes. You should come inside.”

“Inside.”

“Come inside with us.”

“I should come inside.”

“Good sluts come inside.”

“Inside.”

“You’re a good slut.”

“I’m a good slut.”

“You’ll come inside.”

“I’ll come inside.”

Jenny slid out of the car, shaky on her feet. Her heels clicked on the driveway and the steps and on the patio. They clicked while she walked and while she waited anxiously for the door to open. They clicked on the hardwood of the foyer as she stepped inside. They clicked as she shifted her weight when Cash pulled her skirt down. They clicked as she stepped away, thanking him for getting her naked. They clicked as the door shut behind her. They clicked right until the moment that Ronnie told her to lie on her back, and she agreed happily.

THE END