The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Early January was unbelievably mild on the campus of Darnell University, the winter having proved to be much warmer than expected. Not only had snow not yet fallen, it was by common understanding light jacket weather. All of which was a pleasant surprise for students coming back from Winter Break. With classes three days away, everyone was throwing last-minute parties in between scrambling with course registrations, deciphering administrative minutiae, and fighting with University Housing.

At the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity, two young men were stepping into the late morning sun. Jackson Randall, freshman, and Bernard “Bernie” Tilling Junior. Aside from both wearing their frat jackets, they could not have been more different. Jackson, tall and athletic, and Bernie, short and stout, with spectacles giving him an odd intellectual look.

“Okay, Jackson, you’ve been a brother for a semester now, and the fraternity voted over the break to accept you as a full member. You now have access to all the perks that such a position entails. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

“The DIK girls.”

“Indeed, the DIK girls. Although we try to call them frat girls, or Delta Iota Kappa girls if you want to be long winded about it. Turns out the term DIK girls has some unfortunate connotations for some people. What do you know about those DIK girls?”

Jackson shook his head, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets to keep them warm. It was mild weather, but being born and raised in Florida had a tendency to give you a biased view of any temperature that did not allow you to walk about in swimming trunks. “Not much. Just what a bunch of half-drunk brothers let out at a party before Christmas. Something about a bunch of girls with a special arrangement with us, some kind of deal the prez made to get them to hook up with us with no strings attached or something?”

Bernie nodded. “Not bad, not bad. I mean, pretty off the mark, but you’re roughly in the ball park.”

They stopped at the top of a hill looking down towards campus, and paused to take in the view. “Where to start?” Bernie asked himself in a low voice. He checked his watch. “Let’s head to the Student Center.”

Bernie started down the hill, Jackson following obediently, quickly reaching the path that led to the central part of campus.

“So what were we saying?” continued Bernie. “Right, the DIK girls have a special arrangement with us. But don’t think of it as a business deal. It’s more like... they have no choice but make themselves available to us.”

Jackson frowned. “Huh... You mean?...” He lowered his voice, looked around with worry. “Blackmail?”

“Lord no!” laughed Bernie. “No, nothing like that. No, no, they have no choice, you know what I mean?” He emphasized the word “choice.”

“I don’t, actually. Do you mean drugs? Hypnosis? Stuff like that?”

“No, not hypnosis, but yeah, stuff like that. Can’t tell you about the details. It’s pretty hush-hush. But yes, those girls have been... let’s say programmed... to obey us when we say a certain phrase a certain way.”

“And the prez did that?”

“Well, the prez set it up, with this other guy. You’ve probably seen him—older, thirty something, square shoulders, always dresses nice, real quiet. Goes by the name Snowman, but the prez sometimes called him Doctor. He’s been staying at the frat for almost a year now. He has rooms and a lab in the basement.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him. Not the most social of fellows.”

“Indeed. Anyways, you don’t really need to know more than that. The less you know, the less you can blab about. Besides, as long as you get the girls, right?”

The walk to the Student Center was quick. A large building whose ground floor was one huge hall with floor-to-ceiling windows and littered with tables both large and small, and lined with a small strip of restaurant stands and convenience stores on one side, the Center served as a social nexus as well as a meal center. The upper floors held additional tables, as well as meeting rooms, conference rooms, and offices for many of the university student groups.

The Center was bustling with activity, the upcoming beginning of classes forcing everyone into a flurry of activity. But the lack of assigned work ensured that most students meeting at the Center were there to socialize. As a consequence, the place was much noisier than it usually was.

“What now?” asked Jackson, looking around.

“Well, the girls are bit harder to find between semesters, since there’s no schedule—once classes get started and things get into a routine, then we pretty much know where they are during the day—so I planned something. Kyra should be waiting for us somewhere in here...” His voice trailed as he scanned the crowd.

“Kyra?”

“Yup. Cute redhead, great little body, and—don’t laugh—great personality to match. She’s just fun to be with, you know? One of my favorites. Her and Cindy.”

“Cindy? Short, blonde? Great legs? Always wears a skirt?”

“That’s the one. You met her already?”

“I think so. Last fall. Out with Biff’s gang. He was all over her.”

“Yeah. that’d be Biff alright. He’ll kindda get obsessed with one of the girls, and hog her. Which is kind of a bummer, but no one says anything cause he wouldn’t think twice about beating them up. And because he’s cousin to the prez, there’s a bit of nepotism at play too.”

“Nepotism?”

“Look it up. Anyways. Thankfully, Biff’s moved off from Cindy. He’s actually got his eyes on a new girl, so that’s good news for the rest of us. And Cindy’s great, too. You probably know that if you’ve met her already. Too bad she’s not back from holiday yet.”

“Couldn’t we make her come back early, or something? I mean, if we control her—”

“Doesn’t work that way. I mean, yes, I suppose we could. I’m not sure. It’s complicated. We can’t easily control them when they’re not triggered—when we haven’t told them the sentences that puts them ‘under’, if you will. But it’d be a bad idea in any case because her parents or someone may realize that something’s wrong, and the more people look at what’s going on here, the more chance we have of getting in trouble. Can you imagine? I mean, I’ve heard that the prez has struck some sort of deal with the police force here in town, but beyond that, we don’t want anyone putting their nose into this. So the girls do their usual thing off campus, and we try to maintain a low profile here on campus. Well... at least most of us do.”

He had continued scanning the room as he talked, and suddenly his face lit up. “There.” He motioned for Jackson to follow him, and headed for a small standing table where a good-looking girl with short red hair and looking like she had been poured into her jeans, was thumbing through a stack of papers, frowning slightly.

“Hey Kyra!”

The girl looked up and smiled when she saw him. “Bernie! Good to see you. Happy New Year! How was your break?”

“Can’t complain. Did nothing for two weeks but eating and sleeping. You?”

“Pretty good. At least until I got back here and tried to decipher the required material for BioChem II. I swear that figuring out what to buy is like the first quiz of the course.” She gave an exasperated glance at the sheets in front of her.

“Kyra, this is my pal Jackson, a fellow Delta Iota Kappan.”

“Hello Jackson,” said Kyra, her smile genuine.

Jackson stood before her, struck silent. He had never been particularly shy around girls—nor particularly good with them either, to be honest—but he had never met one quite like Kyra. Lithe, almost delicate, with a beautiful face and piercing green eyes that seemed to laugh and dance in the light, she triggered all sorts of protection instincts he never knew he had.

Kyra looked amused, glancing at Bernie, who lifted his eyes to the sky in a silent “For God’s sake!” plea. He elbowed Jackson none too subtly, whispering “The trigger sentence?”

Jackson blinked, then snapped out of it. “Oh, right. Huh, hi, I’m Jackson. Nice to meet you. Huh, Kyra, listen—” and he looked around, but no one was paying them any attention. “I am your DIK brother.”

Kyra’s eyes flashed down to the fraternity ring that Jackson was sporting on his left hand before glassing over for a few seconds. Then she returned to normal, but remained silent and looked at them expectantly.

Bernie smiled. “There, well done. Couple of things to remember. First, always wear your ring—the girls are programmed to look for it to identify you as a brother. Second, watch out for the reaction. Every girl reacts a bit differently, and some are more vocal than others; Kyra here is the silent type, so that’s okay. But don’t go blurting out the trigger sentence willy nilly in public. I’m serious, Jackson. If you only remember one thing, remember that. Okay?”

Jackson, who was enthralled by Kyra, who was still patiently waiting for them, could do little more than nod.

“Look at her left wrist. You see the bracelet?”

“What bracelet?”

“Kyra, show Jackson your left arm.” She did not react. “Jackson, mind asking her to show us?”

“What? Oh. Kyra, please show us your bracelet.”

Kyra raised her arm, and turned her wrist out. A silver chain hung around it, from which dangled three small charms. Looking closely, Jackson saw that each represented a Greek letter: Delta, Iota, and Kappa.

“When she’s been triggered,” said Bernie, “a girl will only respond to your voice. Well, you could of course tell her to respond to someone else—me, for instance—and she’d do what I asked as well as what you asked. Anyways, the bracelet on her wrist, that’s what marks her as a DIK girl. When you see a girl with that bracelet on her wrist, then you know she’s been programmed and is fair game. The girls have been instructed to not talk about their bracelet or treat it as anything special, and we have some cover story for it, something about a weekly appreciation contest and money for charity for the winner and what not. There’s a pamphlet that you can look at back at the house that explains all the details. Now, the bracelet is important. It serves as a kind of anchor for their programming. Bottom line: whatever you do, do not take off the bracelet from a girl when she’s been triggered. Bad stuff can happen. Got that?”

“Got it. Don’t take off the bracelet. I promise, I won’t touch the thing. So now, what... what can we do?”

“You mean to her? Right now, you, my friend, can do whatever the fuck you want to her. She’s been triggered, and she’s now living to please you. I suggest we find a quieter spot, though. Come on, there are some rooms upstairs we can use.”

He motioned for Jackson to follow him, and to bring Kyra, then broke through the crowd for the stairs. Jackson put a hand under Kyra’s elbow and told her to follow him, she nodded, and smiled in answer to his own smile. She had the most mischievous green eyes that Jackson had ever seen. You love you lose, thought Jackson, shaking his head.

Neither of the boys paid any attention to the raven-haired woman shrouded by a long black leather coat standing by the wall five tables down from where they had been talking to Kyra, and who was watching them go, an undecipherable expression on her face.

Bernie led Jackson and Kyra down an upper-floor hallway lined with meeting rooms, all empty at this pre-semester stage of university life. Jackson was behind Kyra, trying to tear his eyes away from her jeans-snuggled rear, longing to run his hands up her legs, not yet believing that he could do just that if he wanted to and that she would not stop him, that in fact she might even encourage him and respond in earnest. All the difficulties of high school were gone, he realized. Whether he was awkward or not did not matter, whether he could read signals or not did not matter. It was simple, it was elegant, and the feeling of power had an addictive quality to it that Jackson was still too inexperienced to recognize. He just stared at Kyra’s ass as they walked, his erection growing.

Bernie ducked into a small room tucked away in a recess of the corridor, and closed the door after they had all gone inside. “Doesn’t lock,” he said, “that’s one problem, but we can jam a chair underneath the handle.”

“I thought that only worked in movies?”

Bernie grabbed a chair from the work table in the middle of the room, and lined it up so that it would keep the handle from turning. “Guess they must have gotten their ideas from somewhere. Let’s just say that the brothers have been scoping out the campus for all the spots where you can go and not be disturbed. I’ll give you the list. This happens to be one of them.” When he was satisfied with the chair’s placement, he turned to the couple. Jackson stood in awkward silence, Kyra was calm and collected, and equally silent. Bernie watched, amused.

Jackson broke the silence. “So... what now?”

Bernie laughed. “Now? Pretty much anything you want, dude. You’ve got this pretty redhead here ready to do your bidding, and you wonder what to do? Are you trying to tell me we fucked up letting you into our frat, little brother?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just that... well... now?”

“You’re worried about me? Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen dicks before. I won’t freak out.”

Jackson hesitated.

“Oh for Christ’s sake. Here, let me do it, then. Kyra,” said Bernie, turning to the girl, “I am your DIK brother.”

Kyra’s eyes flashed down to the ring on Bernie’s finger, then went glassy for a few seconds. Bernie was already unfastening his slacks. “Kyra, take your jacket and top off, and your bra if you’re wearing one.”

He turned to Jackson. “I like to see some flesh when getting head, what can I say? Plus this girl’s got a very nice pair.”

Kyra took her jacket off, then pulled her tee shirt over her head. She was wearing a pale green bra—matching her eyes, noticed Jackson—which rapidly ended up in the pile of discarded clothing next to her. Her breasts, perfectly sized, perky, tipped with pale red nipples, stood proud, and Jackson could not help but gawk at them like the teenager he still was. Bernie laughed. “Told you.”

He gestured to Kyra. “Come and bring me those sweets lips of yours, baby.”

Kyra walked up to him, and kissed him, fiercely, passionately. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, letting a hand trail down her naked back. She pushed herself into his body, practically rubbing herself up and down against him, a moan escaping her lips.

Then Bernie leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She smiled wide, nodded, then kneeled before him, eyes level with his crotch, looking up with an impish look on her face. With nimble fingers she pulled Bernie’s cock out of his boxer shorts, a cock already fully erect, and without hesitation she sucked it whole into her mouth, to Bernie’s gasping pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, “I love it when she does that, taking me in in one shot, no foreplay. It’s like a splash of cold water on a hot day.”

Jackson stood transfixed, torn between looking at this beautiful girl squatting topless at Bernie’s feet giving him a devoted blow job, and turning away so as not to give the impression of staring at his pal’s junk like a clueless neophyte.

Bernie, at this point, could not have cared less, distracted as he was by Kyra’s oral ministrations. He ran his fingers through her short hair, eliciting a groan of approval from the kneeling girl. She had taken on a steady rhythm, letting the turgid shaft almost completely slip out of her mouth before puckering up and gliding it back inside, her lips never leaving the flesh. She was giving Bernie a fantastic blow job, and if the expression on his face was any indication, he was fully appreciating every second of it.

Tutoring instinct must have been strong in Bernie because he resumed talking to Jackson. “They each react a little bit differently to the programming. It’s not like they’re robots or stuff. They still retain their personalities—they just very much want to obey your orders. Some of the girls are more headstrong, other are more naturally subservient, some are playful, others more intense. The variety is the spice of life, right? And, of course, sometimes, you just click with one of the girls. Right, Kyra?” he asked the hard-working girl, “we got something special you and I, don’t we?”

Kyra looked up at Bernie before letting his cock plop out of her mouth. “We do, baby. Nothing’s more special than feeling that big tool of yours in my little cunny. Wanna fuck me now? Or do you wanna come in my mouth?”

“What’s your preference?”

“I just want to feel your cum splash inside me.”

“That’s my girl!” He pushed his cock back into her mouth, and Kyra joyously accepted it, closing her eyes and returning to work, sucking for all she was worth.

Jackson was still looking mesmerized, although his own erection was clearly outlined in his jeans. He was absent-mindedly rubbing it. He cleared his throat. “Huh, Bernie, can I...?”

“You want some of this?” Bernie teased. Jackson nodded. “Then call her over. Get some practice.” He pulled out of Kyra’s mouth, who whimpered for a second before he shushed her.

“Kyra, I am your DIK brother,” said Jackson, with a slight hesitation. Kyra’s eyes flashed to his ring, went glassy, then she looked up at him, her reaction slow, almost hesitant.

“You need to learn to be more confident in your delivery. It’s not like switching a light. She has to interpret and recognize your statement as an assertion. Like this—Kyra, I am your DIK brother,” he said, with force.

Kyra’s eyes flashed to his ring. She was kneeling between the two boys, her chin covered with a thin sheen of saliva, her breasts rising up and down with each breath.

“Okay,” said Jackson. “Kyra, I am your DIK brother.” Kyra’s eyes flashed to his ring and she turned her head towards him.

“Better. Kyra, I am your DIK brother.”

Again, Kyra’s eyes flashed to the frat ring, and she turned towards Bernie. Jackson let out a laugh. “Kyra, I am your DIK brother—”

“Kyra, I am your DIK brother—”

“Kyra, I am your DIK brother—”

They were grinning widely now as Kyra turned this way and that, unable to settle on one before being driven to turn to the other.

“Kyra, I am your—", started Jackson.

“Kyra, I am your—", continued Bernie.

“DIK brother,” finished Jackson.

“DIK brother,” completed Bernie.

All of a sudden, Kyra froze between the two boys, not looking at either. Slowly, she folded up like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and collapsed to the ground. Bernie and Jackson stared, dumbfounded. Bernie reacted first.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled, rushing to the collapsed girl. He checked her pulse and her breathing, then sighed with relief. He looked up to Jackson, who still looked like he had been punched in the stomach.

“She’s just passed out. Man, she scared the fuck out of me.”

“What... what happened?” asked Jackson.

“We overloaded her. You know, like sometimes you switch something on and off rapidly and it fries? I should have known better. Fuck!”

“What do we do?”

“She’s fine now. She just needs to rest and recover. Stuff like this happens once in a while—the process is not perfect, not by any means. We’ll just leave her here, she should wake up in twenty minutes or so, right as rain.” He stood up, reached for his slacks.

“We should probably put her clothes back on though,” added Jackson. He stepped towards Kyra’s discarded bra and top. Bernie nodded. “Right, right. Good idea.” He put his own clothes back on while Jackson did his best to dress Kyra’s limp form. The bra gave him much difficulty, but the tee shirt was easy. He then lifted Kyra and carried her to one side of the room, laying her against a wall. He paused for a second, looking at her jacket on the floor, then rolled it into a makeshift pillow and slid it under her head. She looked for all the world like a girl that had found a quiet spot for a nap. Jackson gently caressed her face; she did not react.

The two boys left the small conference room, closing the door behind them. Jackson turned to Bernie. “Huh, so what now?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m still fuckin’ horny. I suggest we go and find us another broad.”

Jackson hesitated. “I don’t know man...”

Bernie slapped him on the back. “Come on, I have just the girl in mind. And she should be right around the corner.”

He led Jackson to a bank of elevators, and pressed the call button. Before too long, they were two floors up, in another hallway, this one lined with office doors bearing signs advertising various student groups. They walked down, passing the Women’s Union, the Asian American Association, the Chess Club, and stopped before a glass door announcing the offices of the Darnell Daily. Bernie pushed the door in.

The small office was empty but for a student typing away at a computer behind a desk. “Can I help you?” His eyes never left his terminal, his fingers never stopped typing.

“I hope so,” replied Bernie. “We’d like to speak with Serena Banks.”

“She’s busy right now.”

“It’s about a lead on this latest story of hers. She called me and badgered me to tell my side of things, and I think she’d be pretty pissed if she were to learn that I came here to finally talk to her only to be turned away by you. And I doubt you want her pissed, especially at you.”

The student paused for a few seconds, then looked at Bernie before sighing in defeat. “She’s in there,” he said, nodding his head towards a door by the side of the room. “Serena,” he shouted, “two guys to see you about your story.”

“Thanks, man,” said Bernie, gingerly heading towards the door. Jackson smiled nervously and followed.

Bernie pushed the door open, letting Jackson through, and closed it behind him. A black girl stood up from behind one of the large desks at the far side of the room, where she had been working when the two boys entered. Jackson stopping in his tracks. If Kyra had been good looking, in a girl-next-door sort of way, this girl looked like a supermodel, one with generous curves. The black girl was tall and beautiful, her curves emphasized by the tight suit she was wearing. Jackson’s gaze drifted down her body, noting the charms bracelet catching the light on her left wrist, but then getting woefully distracted by the perfect legs exposed by the tight short skirt she had on. Black high heels completed the look, a head-turning mix of professional and enticing.

She looked angry at the intrusion, but before she could do anything, though, Bernie spoke up.

“Serena, I am your DIK brother.”

Serena stopped in her tracks, her eyes flashed down to Bernie’s hand, then went glassy for a few seconds. She smiled. “Yes, you are.” Her smile was hungry.

Bernie walked over to the girl. “See what I meant,” he told Jackson, “this one is different already. She is much more naturally sexual than, say, Kyra, or even Cindy. And that shows through the programming. And it makes her fantastic in bed. Ain’t that right, honey? You a little spitfire in bed?”

Serena’s smile grew wicked. “You know I am. What can I say? I like to fuck.”

Just the way she said it was enough to make Jackson’s cock hard. His eyes were glued to her lips, and he wondered what they would feel like slurping up and down on his shaft. His mind’s eye helpfully supplied a visual, and he had to suppress a groan.

As if he knew exactly what had run through Jackson’s mind, Bernie laughed. “She’s something, isn’t she? And you know the best part?”

Jackson shook his head.

“She’s always, always ready, this little black slut.” He ran a hand up the inside of Serena’s thigh, pushing her skirt up in the process. Bernie’s hand found what it was looking for under the material and soon his hand was thrusting rhythmically into Serena, who had closed her eyes and was holding on to him for support. After a minute of such treatment, Bernie removed his hand from between her legs and presented two shiny wet fingers to her face. With a wanton look Serena slipped them into her mouth and sucked, her eyes closing, evidently relishing her own taste.

Bernie pulled his fingers out despite Serena’s moans of protest. He turned to Jackson, and smiled. “This one’s for you, buddy. Lock the door while I get her ready.”

He looked back to Serena. “You see my friend Jackson here? You’re going to do as he says, just like you do as I say. And you are going to give him the best fuck you can give him, aren’t you? He makes you so hot that you cannot rest until you feel him come all the way deep inside your slutty cunt.”

Serena looked at Jackson, lust burning in her eyes.

“And you know what my buddy Jackson there really likes? He likes to have his girls offer themselves up. He likes to see his girls thrust their ass at him and pleading him to fuck them. I trust you know what to do, then? You’re a smart girl, after all...”

Serena swallowed, nodded, then looked on as Jackson made his way back towards them.

“Hello Jackson,” said Serena, her voice dipping into sultry registers.

“Huh... Hi. Serena, right?”

She stepped up to him, her face a whisper away from his, her lips hovering over his. “You, my dear, can call me whatever the fuck you want.” And then she kissed him, hard, and after the initial shock, Jackson responded in kind, all the pent-up arousal of the past hour rushing up.

They kissed until Serena, out of breath, pushed Jackson away. “If you take your cock out, I’ll show you something nice.” Jackson gulped, looked over at Bernie who merely shrugged his shoulders, then unfastened and pulled down his jeans and underwear and stepped out of them. His cock was sticking out straight, an iron bar of flesh.

Serena whistled. “Very nice! That’s going to feel so nice inside my pussy...”

Jackson’s cock jerked in response. Serena smiled, then turned around, facing her desk. Slowly, she pulled her skirt up, revealing a perfect behind that made Jackson gasp. Her round buttocks where flawless, inviting kisses and hands, and were barely marred by the strip of a thong snuggled between them. With her skirt around her waist, Serena pulled down the flimsy undergarment, leaving it dangling from one of her ankles. She then leaned over, elbows down on her desk. She looked over her shoulder at Jackson, who still had not moved. “I’m all yours, Jackson. Wanna check out how silky smooth my pussy is?”

Jackson took a step towards the beauty leaning over in front of him.

“That’s it, big boy—bring that delicious cock over here and split me open.”

Another step, and Jackson was close enough to run a hand over Serena’s exposed ass. She moaned in response, raising her ass ever higher to maintain the contact.

“Oh, that feels nice. I think my ass likes you, Jackson. How about you, do you like my ass? You can come and play with it anytime, you know. Just show up, and say ‘Serena, I want your ass,’ and it’s yours. Do you want to feel how—Oh!”

Serena’s monologue shifted to a long moan as Jackson lined up his cock and entered her, in one long stroke that encountered no resistance whatsoever. He filled her pussy completely, not moving, appreciating the feel of the smooth tunnel for a long perfect moment before pulling out and pushing back in again. While he fucked her with bold strokes, he realized much to his dismay that he would not be able to hold on for very long.

Bernie, all but forgotten, was clapping. “Well done, bro! Looks like you’ve been doing this all your life. Ain’t she the best? And you should totally take her up on her offer too, her ass is amazing!”

He unfastened his slacks. “Now if you don’t mind, I didn’t get a chance to finish with Kyra earlier. Mind if I borrow this one’s mouth for a bit, while you’ve busy at the other end?”

Not even bothering to wait for Jackson’s answer, he approached Serena from the side of the desk. Having heard the exchange, she turned her head to the side and opened her mouth, ready to receive the cock now bobbing before her and service it to the best of her abilities. As he felt her lips close on his cock, Bernie looked at Jackson and grinned. “Welcome to Delta Iota Kappa, bro. Welcome to the rest of your life!”