The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Continue along State Route One for another eight-hundred meters then turn left…”

Ford frowned at the soft, infuriatingly calm voice of his phone’s GPS and leaned forward over the steering wheel trying to spot any sign of a turnoff ahead.

It had been a long, scenic drive from Monterey down the Pacific Coast Highway if not a particularly comfortable one. Oh sure, his parents old Volvo V70 wagon was spacious enough and the air-conditioning still worked, even if it was a bit stale but the source of the awkward tension was the young woman sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

Marina was a college student; fresh-faced, young and beautiful. They had met at California State University where Ford was a junior suffering through the third year of his Business Administration degree.

He had been chilling on the expansive green-space—which the College called it’s “Meadow” for some unknown reason—trying to organize the notes from his BUS 307—Finance class when the stunning, barely eighteen brunette had broken from her group of giggling friends, strutted confidently across the carefully maintained lawn and told him to ask her out!

He could still remember his own confusion as she had stood there smiling confidently at him, a slender hip cocked coquettishly and her perky, budding breasts thrust out at him looking like the sweetest bloom of youth begging to be plucked. Her vibrant green eyes sparkling with untold mischief behind her glasses. Those glasses… Ford had quickly come to suspect Marina’s new eye-wear had a lot to do with them going out together.

Their first date had been nothing special, just coffee at the Library Cafe since Ford couldn’t rationally afford much else with his accumulating student debt forever in the forefront of his mind. He had cleaned up as best he could in chino pants and a smart button down shirt then Marina had turned up looking like a picture straight out of a Forever 21 catalog.

She had sauntered into the quiet space wearing sprayed on high-top jeans clinging to her long, long legs and slim hips with tall platform wedge sandals that worked miracles on her tight shelf of an ass. Her snowy white, slinky crop-top was so scant and tight it appeared glued to her firm, pert, upturned breasts and revealed a long stretch of her smooth, toned stomach. Her dark chocolate hair was in twin school-girl pigtails that draped down over her shoulders.

Ford had tried his best. When she had politely asked about him, he had started to tell her about his business studies and his plans to join his father in their family custom auto parts business but it hadn’t been long before she was bulldozing the conversation onto her favorite topic. Herself.

“Do you like my new glasses? Oh my god but you must think I look like a total geek!”

She had been wearing a trendy pair of large cateye spectacles. Her parents had sent her for an eye check after she started having headaches during the final push towards high-school graduation. Marina had initially been mortified to discover she needed prescription lenses until she saw one influencer or another modeling some stylish frames on Pinterest.

Ford didn’t know what all the fuss was about. He wore glasses himself, plenty of students did but Marina was fixated on herself…

“It’s, like, Geek Chic you know? That’s actually a thing, isn’t it wild?“

The gorgeous freshman had her Instagram account open and displayed photos of herself in short pleated skirts and white knee socks that showcased her slender calves and plenty of smooth thighs. There were tied-off sheer, sumptuous blouses or slim-cut blazers with little on beneath them buttoned just enough to emphasize the swell of her burgeoning cleavage and flash hints of her small belly button.

In each of them she had captured her own visage, often pouting from under the over-sized eye-wear that dominated her exquisite face. Ford hadn’t known what to say or where exactly he fit into all of this?

The coffee date had continued down the same lines. Ford kept up as best he could until after the longest twenty minutes of his young life Marina had asked him for his phone. Dutifully he had unlocked it and passed it to her in a bit of an addled haze. She had tapped away at the screen for a silent half a minute before handing it back to him with an encouraging wink.

Looking down Ford saw that she had the Instagram app installed on his phone and he was now following exactly one person. Then the excitable teen queen got to her feet, typing away at her own phone, and left the cafe with hips swishing in hypnotic fashion.

She hadn’t even touched her coffee…

“Hey dude, are we nearly there yet? It’s kind of cramped back here…”

Nick, his lifelong neighbor and sometimes friend, had been fighting a losing battle with the pole of the beach umbrella jutting from the back of the wagon for the better part of the hour-long, winding trip through the picturesque hills on the California coastline.

Ford and Nick’s fathers were fishing buddies. Somehow this had the trickle-down expectation that the two young men would become fast friends too but that wasn’t entirely the case. Sure they got along just fine but Ford would never call him a close friend.

Nick was over-weight, socially awkward at the best of times and off-putting in personal interactions. He also had a bad habit of running his mouth then playing the offended party when inevitably called on it, only to parlay any sympathy he could garner into petty favors later on. So it was no surprise when Nick had been fast to insinuate himself into Ford’s plans of taking his new girlfriend to the beach on Friday.

“I too would like to stretch my legs soon, please Beaford”

Beside Nick and divided from him by a sloshing water cooler in the middle of the backseat was Lysiane. The soft-spoken, little strawberry blonde was the French exchange student Ford’s parents had welcomed into their home when his younger sister had decided to spend her Freshman year studying overseas.

Ford wasn’t complaining, he had lost a grumpy, frumpy, public crusader of a sister. In her place he has gained a kindly, curvy French country-girl with big blue eyes, a dead-sexy accent and a sweet, innocent smile that effortlessly warmed people’s hearts. She was a welcome, refreshing breath of fresh air and Nick, with his usual undeserved confidence, had quickly called dibs on her.

As if the guy’s desire for the bouncy, cheerful blonde gave him some kind of claim to the poor girl. Ford hated that petty high-school bullshit…

“We should be there real soon, Lizzy. I bet you’re going to love it, my pledge sister Steph said there are some really hot guys there.” Marina said excitedly, making Ford frown.

He glanced into the rear-view mirror and met Lysiane’s puzzled expression.

That. That right there was the source of the unease for this entire journey and—if Ford was being honest with himself—just another red flag in his burgeoning relationship with Marina. Lysiane had picked up on it too. Marina had spent the entire trip down updating her socials on her phone and chatting about the great glamor shots she was going to get with all the hot guys on the beach.

What was Ford then, her chauffeur?

“This is it?” Nick groaned as they stepped out onto the hot white sands of the small beach. Marina had said that Steph’s directions would be good and here they were, the two guys laden down with the young brunette’s beach essentials. Nick looked red in the face and was panting from the walk down the steep slope. Ford was faring only a little better and even poor Lysiane was breathing hard as she readjusted her grip on the water cooler.

Honestly the turnoff had been almost invisible from the highway, barely a narrow dirt access road hidden by seaside scrub-land. Ford was actually surprised to discover there was a beach here. They were deep into the State Park now, far from any signs of civilization. So it was startling to find the small stretch of sand well populated with… college coeds?

Not just any coeds either but smoking hot college coeds!

Scattered about the white sands were ravishing, exceedingly thin, long-limbed young women beautifully engaged in all manner of seaside fun. Basking on beach towels and drinking up the bright sunshine with their smooth flawless skin. Giggling and splashing in the shallow waves as they pranced like show ponies in scandalously small bikinis and sheer cut-out one-piece swimsuits. There was even a small beach volleyball game setup with what could have been four Scandinavian pro players (or perhaps Swedish lingerie models) bouncing about and spiking the ball over a raised net.

Ford felt like he had stepped onto the set of a photo shoot for Sports Illustrated Magazine as his eyes roamed over firm tanned flesh, soft pronounced curves and slim tight bodies. They all were so completely out of his league that Ford was suddenly, crushingly body-conscious. Beside him Nick visibly slumped and curled into himself defensively like a turtle trying to hide into its shell at the sight of such physical supremacy.

Ford might charitably have been called lean at best and stringy at worst. He couldn’t have felt more out of place when Marina pushed past him and gasped excitedly at the picture-perfect scene before them. All she was carrying was a fashionably small beach bag… of course.

“Oh. My. God. Isn’t this place great?” She spouted as Nick actively groaned under the weight of his heavy burdens.

“Would be nicer if you helped carry all your crap…” He muttered sourly under his breath.

To his detriment he wasn’t quiet enough and Marina rounded on him with a saccharine sweet smile that bared all her pearly white teeth.

“Remind me who invited you along? Why you are here again?” She asked airily with a hint of an edge behind her honeyed tone.

It took Nick aback, of course it did. As much as Ford generally liked his neighbor he would happily admit that Nick had all the spine of an invertebrate. The sudden confrontation cowed Nick immediately and he was beet-red as he wheezed out a breathless response.

“I just… Ummm, we… I’m keeping my boy Ford company and maybe…”

He looked hopefully back at Lysiane as he petered out but the cute french student was distractedly looking over her shoulder, back up the sandy trail they had just come down. Marina just blew out an exasperated breath and turned her back on him before striking out onto the beach.

“Hey man, are you really going to let her do me dirty like that?” Nick sounded hurt.

“Come on, let’s find somewhere out of the way to put down all this gear.” Ford sighed, readjusting his grip on his armful of bags and following after Marina.

The beach wasn’t really that big, maybe only a four hundred feet of blindingly white sand hemmed in by impassable rocky outcroppings at either end. Ford found a spot at the back where the sand gave way to the scree of the hill and began to set up Marina’s sun umbrella while the lithe brunette scanned the posing beach-goers searching for her friend.

Her dark hair was back in a long, shining ponytail. She was dressed in bleached white, fashionably frayed denim cutoffs so brief the bottom curves of her tight little butt peaked out from behind. She had stripped off her pink baby tee to reveal a cherry red string bikini top that hugged tight to the shapely mounds of her breasts. Ford couldn’t help but to stare at the slender lines of her bare back following them down to the twin dimples just below her trim little waist.

“Beaford, I cannot find my maillot… uh, my swimsuit.” Lysiane said, pawing through a large colorful tote bag. “I believe it is still in your car.“

Ford tore his eyes away from Marina to see the buxom French girl looking back at him apologetically.

Lysiane looked as out of place as he felt on this strange beach with its model perfect inhabitants. She was barely five and a half feet tall and her body inclined more towards voluptuous than any of the toned, taut stunners displayed across the beach. Ford didn’t mind her fuller hips or thick thighs, he definitely didn’t mind the extra freight she hefted up front either. She clearly wasn’t fat, her waist was still pronounced and her belly smooth if a bit soft. She just had more of a naturally bouncy body type.

Amongst these beauty-queen beach goers though? She might as well have been another species of animal. Ford wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to fabricate a polite excuse to escape.

“I don’t know Lysiane, it’s a long walk…”

He stared up at the steep scrubby trail that had led them to this hidden locale. It would take nearly twenty minutes for them to return to where they had parked… Lysiane saw his conflicted expression and stepped up to take his keys from him.

“I will go change and then return.” She reassured him in her rich, exotic accent. “You should stay and enjoy yourself.”

She had looked about with uncertainty as she said it and Ford could tell she was uncomfortable as she hurried away. Moreover he could guess the why of it too.

There was something off about the scene playing out on the short bar of sand. While he could discount the lack of elderly tourists or families with children given the secluded, exclusive nature of the location he couldn’t dismiss the feeling there was still something unnatural about the present beach-goers.

They were all just too beautiful, too perfect, too… staged. Was that crazy?

There had to be over two dozen young women scattered about sands, basking, tanning and frolicking. Not one of them could have been older than twenty years of age and anything less than exquisite in appearance. It was like an advertising agency had bused in a crowd of hand-picked starlets, bikini models and pageant queen’s to promote the latest refreshing brand of cola.

The colors here were all too bright. Everything was laid out like a movie set only lacking the film crew, cameras and director to guide the scene. It was all just too… idyllic and utterly fake.

Ford looked at Nick who was staring around slack jawed and red faced. He had a line of pink zinc across his nose and a floppy-brimmed hat on to protect his pasty complexion from the burning sun. He hadn’t even noticed that his French connection had up and left. Eventually he felt Ford’s stare and turned to him.

“What?”

“Nothing, are you going to take your t-shirt off?”

Nick looked aghast at the suggestion glancing down at his protruding gut and soft man-chest clearly demarcated beneath the sweat-soaked cotton.

“No way! Wait… are you?”

Nick shrugged with more confidence than he actually felt and pulled his shirt off over his head. Some deeply buried part of him whispered insidiously that at least he wasn’t a fat-ass…

“Marnie!”

“Steph!”

Ford looked up from where he had been laying out a beach blanket to see Marina’s pledge sister approaching. His heart faltered at the sight of her.

Steph was the very definition of a California beach bunny. Her body was pin-up perfect, from the glowing waterfall of her diamond blonde hair to the tips of her painted, pedicured toenails. She was the “It’ Girl of Monterey Campus and a consummate heart-breaker.

Her bust and hips were full, firm and glorious. Only more accented and put on display by the scandalously small, strappy bikini she spotted. It was sky blue, pushing her big, happy tits up and out from her slender torso with the thong-backed bikini bottoms disappearing into the deep crack of her perfect golden-tanned bubble butt.

Ford could actually see the sun shine through the two inch thigh-gap under her barely-covered sex as she sashayed forward on long slender legs that went all the way down, down, down to the ground but that wasn’t what was doing his heart in.

It was the guy she was with. Not just with but practically hanging off.

“Are these your friends, Babe?”

He was older, much older but only the white wingtips in his deep, dark hairline gave that away. The rest of him was huge and inhumanly dynamic in muscular proportion.

He was nearly a full head taller than Ford’s five feet, eight inches and had to be three times his one hundred and twelve pounds in weight. His arms were roped and yoked with bulging muscles thicker around than Ford’s thighs. His shoulders were a rocky shelf of boulders atop the carved cliff-face of his steely chest and abdominals. All of this immense mass tapered down into a classic V towards his narrow hips and legs broad as knotted young tree trunks with heavy defined quads and football-sized calves.

“Well she is, Mac.” The blonde knockout twittered, pointing to Marina with her chin before resting her head against his mighty, bronzed shoulder with a giggle, “These other two are just her baggage.”

The beach stilled as Mac strode towards them, his bare feet sinking deep into and kicking up the hot sand effortlessly. It was eerie, the way all activity ceased and all the eyes fixated on this Goliath with Steph draped carelessly from his shoulder like a towel. Every young model-esque beauty was shading their eyes from the sun’s glare or sitting up to look over expensive designer shades with smoky, hungry gazes locked like lasers on the hulking hunk of Man.

“Ummm, Hi… hi!” Marina’s voice was nervous and breathy as Mac towered over her. “You’re Steph’s friend? You can call me Marnie.”

Ford didn’t like that, Marina had insisted that only her girlfriends called her Marnie when he had tried it as a pet name but here she was offering it up to a guy she hadn’t even been introduced to yet.

He didn’t like the way this Mac was eyeballing her either, clearly appraising her from toes to tits. Then bending down to closely scrutinize her small, blushing face as though he were about to start counting her teeth. Too closely, Ford felt as he stepped up beside her, puffing out his skinny chest ready to support her when she inevitably balked at the older man’s unwelcome gaze.

But she didn’t, instead a needy moan escaped her plush lips and Ford’s attempt at moral support only caught the mountainous man’s attention…

“Oh and who do you think you are, little man?” He thundered in mock amusement.

His voice was loud, deeply sonorous and clearly projected so the entire watching audience could hear him. This Mac fellow was putting on a display.

“I’m her boyfriend and I don’t much appreciate how you’re leering at her.” Ford reached to rest his hand on Marina’s shoulder as he spoke, as much for his own reassurance as for her own.

He was surprised when she flinched away from his touch as though it had burnt her delicate skin.

This made Mac laugh, a rumbling landslide of a throaty chuckle that set off giggling fits in all the captivating women on the beach. None more so than Steph on his arm, her full heaving tits plastered to Mac’s side as she sneered back at Ford.

“I think my sweet sorority sister has had enough of boys.” She spat contemptuously, flipping back her long mane of glossy platinum hair as her tone dripped with acidity, “I think it’s time she discarded her worthless playthings and gave herself over to a real man!”

Ford could see Marina trembling, her hands clenched together beneath her budding breasts as she panted in… was it fear? Ford screwed his flagging courage to the sticking point and stepped up, dwarfed by the larger man’s colossal size as he did.

“Hey man, back off. What’s your problem anyway? We’ve got as much right to the beach as anyone.”

It came out sounding pitifully weak but Ford wanted to say more. He wanted to point out they were all equals as human beings on the fundamental level. That no person had a right to lay claim to another or put others down just because they could. That was just Being a Decent Person 101, right? …but he never got the chance.

“Don’t mind Steph, boy.” Mac said.

Ford couldn’t help but to notice his arm wrapped around Marina’s friend’s waist was slipping down to grab the blonde’s bare ass… hard. The hot blonde gasped and stared with big hungry eyes up into Mac’s face. Then the man’s hand slid further down into the bikini thong beneath it.

“She is still finding her feet as my new number one girl…”

The muscles on the Mac’s forearms rippled and there was a soft wet sound as his hands did… something that made the sorority queen flush as a soulful moan escaped her rich, cherry lips. Ford’s eyes widened as the gorgeous Steph trembled and clutched harder at the bullish man’s side in a quick, uncontrollable wash of pleasure.

“...but if you want to talk to me about rights, String Bean? I’ll teach you the only lesson any real man needs to learn.”

Mac’s big shadow seemed to blot out the sun for Ford as the giant loomed over him. Steph had slipped bonelessly down his side to kneel beside his feet. A meaty finger prodded into Ford’s scrawny chest hard enough to send him stumbling backwards a step.

“The Right of Might is the only thing that matters in this world. It has been this way since the earliest caveman fashioned his first rudimentary weapon.” Mac announced stepping in close and pushing Ford again. He tumbled backwards as though struck by a battering ram, his breath whooshing out of him.

All the stunningly beautiful women of the beach were standing now, facing and sending hungry, lustful stares at Mac. Hard nipples clearly tented sheer revealing swimsuits. Manicured hands played across their bodies in feverish desire. Fingers were being sucked suggestively between plush lips or roamed and teased tender flesh. More than a few had thighs pressed tight together and rocked a little as they stood, gently thrusting at the air as they listened to Mac’s ludicrous monologue.

“The oldest and most primal law of man is the strong take what they want and fight to keep what they claim. Cyprus knew this, so did Caesar, Attila and Khan.”

The towering man paused, bending down to pinch Steph’s delicate jaw in one massive paw then kiss her long and soulfully, their tongues darting together. The college heart-throb moaned as he pulled away to stare back down at Ford sprawled out in the sand.

“Once you accept this one immutable fact you will see it everywhere in the world around us. Those in power do as they wish, great nations subjugate the weak as they always have and all those petty ideals set forth from the mewling, pitiful masses are just the weak trying to collar the strong in chains of delusional proprietary.”

Ford looked desperately to Nick for help but his old “friend” was backing away from them with wide eyes darting about wildly like a scared rabbit.

“Don’t look at him, look at me.” Mac growled, leaning over Ford’s prone form.

Ford dragged his eyes up and was horrified to see beautiful young Stephanie, that haughty campus goddess, had shuffled on her knees to the sand before Mac. She looked like one of those under-clothed slave girls basking at the feet of a sword wielding barbarian from an eighties film poster.

Then her perfectly manicured fingers pulled down the man’s tight swimming trunks and freed Mac’s big, throbbing cock. It was huge and Ford couldn’t believe this was happening in right front of him. It was like some mad fever dream.

A waking nightmare.

Steph, the hottest girl on campus and a regular star in Ford’s late night fantasies, was on her knees on a public beach taking this brutes giant cock into her perfect bow of a mouth. Her tongue lashed out as she took the angry, tumescent head of it between full, pouting lips. Her tight, rosebud nipples pressed excitedly through the sheer fabric of her tiny bikini top.

“That’s a good girl,” Mac crooned to hungrily sucking co-ed.

“Mmmmphmmm!”

He wrapped his hand in her long curtain of shining platinum hair and started stroking her face up and down his frightening length. His eyes remained on Ford though, his expression barely registering the fact he had one of the most gorgeous women Ford had ever known eagerly sucking and slurping at his dick.

Like it wasn’t worth mentioning. As though it were his rightful due.

“How do you like my cute little cocksucker?”

Ford didn’t know what to say, his mouth had gone as dry as the sand under his ass. Then he realized Mac was talking to Marina who was staring fixedly at his quickly disappearing length down her gorgeous friend’s swallowing throat.

“Lose the face furniture and the dead weight, Doll. Then maybe we can talk business.”

Suddenly all the titan’s attention was back on Ford who was struggling to raise himself on hands and knees.

“Crawl away, Sprout and remember this lesson.” He grunted before pulling hard on Steph’s golden tresses to push her happily gurgling face further down his immense, rock-hard length.

Then, as if in afterthought Mac kicked a fan of sand into Ford’s face, the salty grit stinging his eyes.

“You’re not worth my time.”

Ford slammed his bedroom door and kicked over his laundry hamper in a fruitless fit of frustration. His soul was alight with fury at the way he had been treated on the beach but worse, so much worse, he burned with shame at how he hadn’t been able to do anything about it! It was as if (in a few short, violent moments) his entire life with all the hard work he had put into becoming the diligent, stoic, studious young man he was today had been weighed, measured and found wanting.

The drive back from the beach had been tortuous. They had fled the sands, Nick in a panic and Ford in shock tugging a dazed looking Marina behind him as she kept stumbling and looking back the way they had come. They hadn’t even packed up the beach equipment. Lysiane had still been with the car and looked startled when Ford told her in no uncertain tones that they were leaving.

Like, right away.

Marina had sat in the back seat angrily ignoring everyone and everything as she deep-dived into her phone. Nick had ridden upfront looking bone pale and shiny with sweat that had nothing to do with the heat of the day. Lysiane’s questioning gaze just flitted from one person to another but she had sensed the tense mood and remained quiet. Any and all attempts at conversation had been stunted, dying prematurely on the lips until they had finally pulled in out front of Marina’s Sorority house.

Phi Alpha Theta. The place where Marina and Stephanie stayed.

Ford had walked her to the front door trying to think of something, anything to say but when he had opened his mouth to apologize she had turned to him with such a look of withering disappointment the words never left his tongue.

“Don’t even bother, little boy.” She had huffed and then slipped inside, closing the door behind herself without another word.

She hadn’t been wearing her glasses, she had left them forgotten in the backseat of his car.

The whole run in with Mac replayed itself on an endless loop in his head. Ford’s ribs hurt from where Mac had tossed him effortlessly aside and he couldn’t banish the image of Steph on her knees eagerly suckling and servicing the awful man’s massive dick.

Steph, Marina’s hottest friend and sorority sister.

Steph who had never given him the time of day whenever Marina had brought him any of her social engagements.

Steph with her haughty smirks, that long luxurious white-blonde hair and mouth-watering cheerleader-fit body.

Steph, who had become a regular star in Ford’s nightly rotation of fantasy girls he would stroke himself and moan in the shower to each evening before bed.

Steph… Marina… and others.

Despite himself, Ford felt a surge of arousal but it was all hollow and shameful. He felt washed out, emotionally exhausted and despite the afternoon hour he collapsed into bed covering his face with a pillow to rest.