The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Adventures of Eggy Remixed — BOOK 2 — A WEEK LATER

E7 — ANNETTE AND ANDY — DADDY’S GIRL, STONED AGAIN + STELLA AND CARL — THE MAGIC ACT — PART 1

ANNETTE AND ANDY — DADDY’S GIRL, STONED AGAIN

“Almost done.” The sheets are changed again. Andy lies on his stomach on the mattress, naked, and Annette, in only thin thong panties kneels astride him. Her hands are greased with the magic cream and she’s giving Andy a surprisingly professional massage, working her fingers into his muscles. He moans in pleasure.

“Lower. To the left. That’s the spot. Aaaaahhh.”

“Annette’s other talent—super hands. No one in the whole wide world, or even Sweden and Hong Kong can give a better massage. It doesn’t have to be sexual, just working off the knots in the muscles after a hard day. And it is the only talent given today that will work on family, if it isn’t being done as foreplay or sex, so Betty, Sam and Will can ask Annette a shoulder or foot massage, and if she’s inclined, she can give it. Though she may ask for the keys to the car or money for the movies in return.”

Annette starts working on Andy’s ass, causing him to squirm a bit to settle his growing erection comfortably underneath him. She gets off him, now kneeling at his side. Her tits wobble as they hang down under her hunched back. “Roll over,” she tells him.

Andy’s stiffy stands up like a flagpole. Annette regreases her hands and starts to work on giving him a ‘happy ending’, which spurts across her chest, dribbling down onto his tummy.

“What’s Andy’s specialty? Annette, why don’t you take a nice big dollop of his man-juice and taste it.” She does.

“Just tastes like spunk, whoa!” She wobbles slightly.

I ask, “Andy, what was the last whacky-tobacky you thinking about?”

“What? I don’t do drugs, man. Thing. Whatever.”

More than one snigger is heard.

“OK, it’s a sacrament, alright. I was thinking about some Maui Zowie that I tried last time I was on the coast.”

“Strong?”

“A mind roast.”

“Well now you are a walking talking toking poking human pot machine. Whatever MJ you thought about last will manifest in your goo, and give your partners the experience of smoking a big bomber of it, without the health effects.”

“Trippy. But, like, it’s un-hip to get people high who aren’t able to deal with it. Or want it. Not cool at all.”

“I agree. So the effect will wear off the moment they have to do anything that requires higher level brain power. So tell them ‘Think about driving a car’ and they’ll automatically—auto, get it?—come down to straight and sober. In fact even if they are blasted already, once they have your paste in their pussy, ass, mouth or even just smeared on their skin, asking them to do anything that requires a good level of concentration will sober them to normal, even when the intoxicant is something else they took. So you can be both buzz and buzzkill. For example if you get Betty nice and high, and ask her to cook or use a known recipe, she can do that practically in her sleep, but if you ask a stoned and cum on Annette to boil eggs, well, she will come down from the very thought of turning on a burner. You could start a new career as a designated driver gigolo, going to bars and offering to fuck the ladies before they get behind the wheel, if they knew what you could do. Parents can rest easy at night if Andy is going to the same party as your daughters, for he can make sure she is sober for the drive home, or one of her girlfriends is. And no, it’s not addictive.”

“How is it Annette”

“Far out. I’m tingling all over. Like, Wow.” And then she starts laughing uncontrollably.

“Four plus sixty-five is what?”

“Un, er, Sixty-Nine. Hey, the tingle is gone. Not fair.” She reaches to Andy’s belly and takes another glob onto her finger and into her mouth.

“Thash bettur,” she slurs. Seeing Sam and Betty’s worried looks, “Just kidding! Honest, I’ve smoked stronger.”

As you can see, this really doesn’t improve her judgment any.

“Anyone else care for a taste?”

Vicky comes over, “If I move in with the big lug, I better see what I’m getting into. Mmmmm, not bad at all. Driving! Hey that works.”

Rose sneaks a peak at her folks, and then licks a bit off Annette’s tit. Stella walks over and does the same with the other breast. Sheila, Gail, and then shyly Betty all grab some spunk from Andy’s belly, Gail scooping a good bit out of his belly button.

After a few glassy-eyed seconds each says “Driving”.

“I prefer a good white wine,” Betty says. She imitates Andy, “But, not bad shit, man,” then starts her infamous laugh, “Hahahahahaha......”

STELLA AND CARL — THE MAGIC ACT — PART 1

Now the grand finale. Carl was a bit taken aback at rehearsal, but he’s a natural ham and later when he saw what was up really got into it, all his stiff nine and a half inches down to the nuts. Stella was just embarrassed, which I twisted into aroused humiliation. Blush. Cum. Blush. Cum. Blush. Cum. The more aroused she became so too the feelings of humiliation; and vice versa—the more humiliated, the more aroused. But now that things are settled down, she’s back to both nervous and ashamed, which is like wet clay in my hands. Her nips are hard as diamonds. She’s trying to ignore the vibrating plug in her pooper, before returning Marc had slid it back up there one delightful inch at a time, but it feels so good that occasional involuntary moans have been escaping her lips as it wiggles away. No one here is ever going to forget this—unless I tell them to.

The audience has all gone through their times on stage, their jitters over, ready to enjoy the show. Even Gail. Now they’d seen what kind of things could happen no one felt particularly worried about Stella, the general consensus was that recently she’d been acting like an arrogant flirt, getting guys to do what she told them just because she was damn cute and that not doing it would mean that it could block that maybe someday she would fuck them. But now it seemed to all that every one of those checks her body wrote was going to come due. Curiosity, not fear took command among the watchers. Both her current/ex boyfriends Marc and Troy were hoping for something particularly outrageous.

“Magic? No such thing. There’s only different types of energy, space, time and matter and the manipulation of all. Believe the giant floating egg on this. First, a demonstration. Will, dim the lights.” I expended a little energy creating a round spotlight effect on our makeshift stage in front of the mattress. I have Aram and Marc place a sturdy waist high side-table at the edge of the glow. On it is a cheap top hat, a thin black stage magician’s magic wand with white tips, and two metal rings.

Carl removes his robe, he wears a t-shirt with the printed pattern of a tuxedo front, nothing else. His monster dick is only semi-flaccid, attracting some ‘oohs’ and ‘aws’ from the ladies present who haven’t seen it closely before. The guys all try to look away in feigned disinterest, but there is something about its bouncing bigness that draws the eye. “Rooster Street presents The Great Carlini,” he announces and bows. There is some polite applause.

He picks up the hat and reaches in, coming up empty handed. “No rabbit? I swear I put one in there last week,” he grins, and then places it on his head. “Where did it go? Down the rabbit hole maybe?” Maybe my assistant Stella knows, come on up here dear.

Stella steps up, slightly taller now that she wears her highest heels. Carl helps her off with the robe. She’s wearing the blue push-up demi-bra and gartered fishnet stockings that Marc saw earlier. A small black bow tie now smartly circles her neck on a white collar, framing her pretty young face and flowing shoulder-length black hair. A tiny top hat is pinned at a jaunty angle on her head.

“Where can that rabbit be? Did Stella swallow it?” Standing behind her, one arm circling her waist holding her close, Carl gently opens her mouth with the free hand and inserts two fat fingers, running them around until one cheek and then the other bulge, getting them slick with spit. “Nope, what about this hole.” He spreads her legs open with his other hand, and removing the saliva moistened fingers from Stella’s cake-hole thrusts them onto her now blushing pussy. Sawing them back and forth, in and out, he says, “Can’t feel anything but good here.” She’s on display, passively being masturbated in front of her friends and family, getting massively turned-on and hoping they’d stop staring so hard at the same time. Her shoes have forced her to stand almost on her toes, and Carl’s invading digits have made her try to rise even higher, clenching her ass around the plug inserted into her rectum.

I’m monitoring her shame and embarrassment, and turning all but enough to flush her face into passion—though she knows that she would normally feel total shame instead. How could she face them tomorrow? Then she remembered what she’d seen them all do, and felt a little better. A small tear of confused frustration rolls down her cheek as she says the line we rehearsed, “Did you try everywhere, Carlini?” in a slow sexy voice.

“No, now that you mention it, there is one more place to look,” as he turns her sideways in silhouette to the audience and bends her over the table, A round, white fluffy cotton ball about three inches across is tied to the loop at the end of her plug.

“What have we here? Have you been stuffing things up your butt again you naughty girl?” He rubs her nether cheek fondly, and then he pinches the monster sticking out of her ass between two fingers on his dry hand pulling it out an inch so that the others can see it. It’s thicker than at the base, and her sphincter expands as he leaves it hanging there. She lets out a little moan.

“Safety first call before you dig and use your emergency clips.” Carl takes two of the large metal hinged rings and snaps them in place over each of her legs and around the legs of the table—she’s not really stuck there, lift the table and they’d fall to the ground. But as long as she leans on it she can’t close her legs or get away—not that this crosses her mind.

“I wonder if the rabbit got trapped up here? Better take this out.” He starts to very slowly withdraw the plug, the crowd gasps, as it seems to grow and grow and grow in length, two inches, three, five, seven, a foot and more…

“No, no” mutters Betty, who can’t believe something so big could fit into a girl so small.

Carl, as instructed, deliberately misunderstands and plunges it back in to the hilt, “I shouldn’t take it out?” Stella goes “Oooooh” and throws her head back.

“How? Did you see?” mutters come from the others.

“Let’s try that again.” Carl gently but deliberately pulls out a good foot and a half long dildo attached to the plug, with more to come as the head has yet to emerge. “Magic!” he says while plunging it back in and then out again, and once more. Three more times with long slow strokes and she explodes shouting in orgasm, orgasm, orgasm, three in a row, as he finally removes the plug, which proves to be about as long and as wide as a policeman’s nightstick. Stella leans on her elbows on the table, so low her sweet small tits swing with the nipples brushing its top, still bound by the rings around her ankles, breathing heavily.

“Is that silk I see?” Carl passes a couple of fingers into her slightly gaping bum which is slowly relaxing shut. Slowly he withdraws a blue silk handkerchief; at the end there is a knot with another orange hankie tied to it. As it flows past the creamy silk rubs against Stella’s now closed and extra-sensitive sphincter, causing a shiver of ecstasy, and a gulp of air in reaction to the thicker knot. Tied to that is another different bright colored handkerchief and then another, similar to the trick that magicians have done as an alternative for entertaining Attila the Hun who otherwise liked sawing a real lady in half and expecting them to put her back together. With each knot Stella gasps and her pussy starts leaking girl-juice down her legs.

Finally the scarves come to an end with a pink thong bikini bottom tied last, which Carl holds up for all to see, “I guess these are tiny enough to get sucked up a woman’s ass.” gets a few laughs, mostly from Troy. Carl takes a bow, There is polite but bewildered clapping.

“OK, what else is up there? It’s worse than a woman’s purse!” He spreads her cheeks with his dry hand, and buries his other into her sopping cunt. A few strokes there and he cups his fingers into a curve and shoves his whole hand up her ass. “Wooooooo ahhhhhhhh ohhhhh,” she cries. While the shocked audience looks on with awe and horror. They’ve seen enough magic acts to not really believe what they see, but at least a few of them are squirming on their own tushies.

Carl pulls out a capped lipstick—he twists it open to show that it’s almost all gone. “Why do ladies always carry these around?” He throws it over his shoulder and plunges his hand back in her backside. Out comes a flashlight, long and black. “Missing the batteries,” he says as he puts it back in, then takes the wand off the table and inserts it to about half way and says “Presto”, then reaches back in, twists about some, and then pulls the flashlight out again, now lit. Other objects appear, coins, a cucumber, a spoon, a 6-oz coke bottle, and finally a stuffed rabbit.

“Mr. Cuddles!” Annette cries. She reaches out and grabs it from Carl’s hand. “So that’s where you got to, all dark and stinky up that nasty girls bum. Hey, he’s dry!”

NEXT UP — STELLA AND CARL — THE MAGIC ACT — PART 2