The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My name is Mary Miller. My life is completely unremarkable.

Take today, for example. My alarm went off at five a.m., same as always. I rolled out of bed, stretched a bit, and then did my usual weekday morning aerobic workout. Twenty minutes, in the nude; why bother throwing on underwear just to toss it right into the hamper?

Then I cleaned myself up and got ready for work. I teach English at the local high school, and was expected in by six forty-five. This is my sixth year there; I’ll be thirty-two next month. I dressed rather conservatively, as usual, in a white button-up blouse and a knee-length skirt. After putting my freshly-bleached hair up into a soft bun, I enjoyed a light breakfast before starting the ten-minute drive.

I pulled into the parking lot by twenty of seven; right on time. There was no morning meeting, so after saying my hellos to the rest of the staff, I popped into the faculty restroom to fix my makeup, then headed to my classroom to review the day’s lesson plan. It was a bit warm, especially for mid-March, so I cracked open a window and undid the top button of my blouse.

The homeroom bell doesn’t ring until seven thirty, but students usually start drifting in by a quarter after. Among them is John Smith, an athletic young man with chiseled features and a movie star smile. I have him for both homeroom and English this year; by fortunate coincidence, last year I’d had him for both as well.

As always, the first thing he did when he arrived was to give me an intimate hug and a deep kiss, then lovingly fondle my moderate breasts. My nipples were hard even before he touched me; in truth, I look forward to our greeting and often find myself recalling it throughout the day.

The rest of the class ignored us; there was nothing especially remarkable about our daily hello. Certainly nobody paid the least attention while he unbuttoned and untucked my blouse, exposing my erect nipples peeking out over my satin push-up bra; nor did anyone react as I unzipped his jeans and withdrew his expectant cock.

It was already more than half erect; I gently rolled back the foreskin and bathed the glans with my tongue. As expected, within a few seconds Little John — all nine inches of him — was at full salute. I then waited, drooling slightly, until one of the other students said, “Go.” Knowing that the wall clock’s second hand had just swept past twelve, I plunged my mouth downward, determined as always to beat my current record of one minute, fifty-five seconds.

I didn’t quite make it. But when John exploded into my suctioning mouth in under two and a half minutes, I certainly couldn’t complain. His thick semen was my after-breakfast drink; on those rare days I’d been forced to go without it, I’d been moody and irritable and no fun to be around.

Next I hiked up my skirt and lay myself back on the desk. As usual, I hadn’t bothered with panties; John considers them an inconvenience. I closed my eyes and waited for the chosen student to lean in between my spread thighs and lick me to orgasm.

As part of the game, I had to guess who he or she was; my reward was their finger up my ass, which always drives me to an extra-intense climax. By this point in the school year, I’m right just over half the time; and today was no exception. The soft licks and gentle nibbles told me that this morning it was little Constance O’Shaughnessy’s turn; as soon as I said so, I could open my eyes and enjoy watching her short red hair bobbing up and down as she worked her magic on my hairless pussy. (I have it waxed; John hates it when, as he puts it, “the carpet doesn’t match the drapes.")

My approaching release was interrupted, as it usually is, by the school’s principal clearing his throat. “Yes, Dr. Gomez?” I panted; but as always, his attention was directed at John.

“Mr. Smith, do you think I could borrow one of your classmates for, ah, some morning relief?”

“Of course, sir. Would you prefer Colin or Natasha?”

“Natasha, if you wouldn’t mind. Though I may ask for Colin later. Or perhaps Stuart, if it isn’t any trouble.”

John grinned. “It never is, sir. Please say hi to Mrs. Gomez for me; I’ll try to stop by this weekend.”

Dr. Gomez laughed. “Will do, John. Thank you again.” I could hear Natasha gathering up her books, and easily pictured the smile on her face; she’d miss most of first period, but assisting the principal like that was not only fun, but automatically an acceptable excuse.

During this exchange, Constance had slowed her tempo enough to keep me from going over the edge; John likes to watch me while I cum. Now that we had his full attention once again, I felt her tongue ram into me like a tiny spongy cock, her nose bumping against my erect clit while her longest finger wriggled and stroked against the inside of my rectum.

It was like lighting the fuse to a bomb; I convulsed, arching my hips and pulling at my tender nipples. My thighs squeezed Constance’s ears, but she didn’t seem to mind; from her quivering vibrations, I was pretty sure her free hand was providing her relief. Or maybe it was one of the other students; John enjoys rewarding good technique like that.

By the time my orgasm ended, I was already craving a man’s cock. But first I had to settle for a boy’s; specifically Artie Gordon, who turned out to be the young man currently making Miss O’Shaughnessy very happy. This too was part of the morning routine; John believes in spreading the love.

Unfortunately, Artie was still a bit of a quick shot; no surprise, since he’d been a virgin until a few months ago. While we were going at it, the homeroom bell rang; one of the other boys took attendance, and everyone else listened to the school announcements — which were read over the PA system by Natasha, with a lot of gasps and catches in her voice, and Dr. Gomez’s rhythmic throaty grunting in the background.

The announcements ended just before Artie did; once he’d finished, Constance did me the courtesy of both cleaning me up and sharing the fruits of his labor; Artie may not yet have had the stamina, but his cum was still salty and delicious. Then, as per John’s unspoken directions, she inserted a pair of liquid-filled Ben Wa balls into my back channel, while two other students — Leighton and Carol, this time — moved to caress my earlobes and suckle and nibble on my expectant nipples.

John was of course ready for his part in the morning’s performance. Again, no surprise there; I’ve never seen him not be able to produce an erection on demand. This time, it was the satisfying fullness of Little John filling my pussy; which, when combined with the enthusiastic dual upper-body stimulation and the sloshing rhythm of the Ben Wa balls in my ass, meant it wouldn’t take long for me to cum for a second time.

And so I did, just as Little John let loose inside of me. No big thing; when John and I are fucking, we always seem to climax together. I just take it as further proof of how sexually in-synch we are. Which is why I’m perfectly happy to let him lay on top of me for a minute or so, until he’s recovered; and why I didn’t bother to protest Carol and Leighton’s continued working of my now overly-tender breasts. After all, they’re entitled to have their fun as well.

Finally, John straightened himself up, which was the signal both for the other two students to stop, and for Constance to again step forward and plug up my dripping pussy with a remote-controlled programmable vibrating egg. This part of the routine was actually a bit of a downer, as it meant that the morning’s fun was coming to a close.

By the time Constance had finished inserting the egg, the class bell was just about to ring. That also happens quite a lot; the first-period students are used to seeing me in a state of disarray, and they know to wait patiently in their seats while I make myself presentable. I’m permitted to button up my blouse, but not to change my outfit or freshen up; John says he prefers seeing me in a state of deshabille.

Just as the bell rang, the final part of our morning ritual was another full-body hug and a deep throaty kiss from John; as always, it left me a bit breathless, and with a nipple erection that wouldn’t quite disappear until lunchtime. His hands fondled and squeezed my ass, both marking me as his possession and promising afternoon relief; I wouldn’t see him again until fifth-period English, but the plastic egg inside my pussy would stimulate me at random, reminding me throughout the day that I was his favorite fuck toy.

In fact, it was vibrating right now. Even though my day is wholly unremarkable, I love the routine.