The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Marnie crossed her arms and did her best to keep Ford’s great, thrusting cock between her pale perky tits as she writhed prettily against that vast pillar of burning, inflexible flesh.

“Come on Marnie, hurry it up. I’ve got places to be.”

Of course he did, Marnie moaned and rolled her slim body against him. Her man was, like, super important and she needed to help him shoot his big, yum-yum load as quickly as possible so he could go fuck even more pretty girls.

They were parked in the same unmarked turn-off from the highway as last time. Except last time her Masters car had been filled with all her silly-billy beach gear and not a vast pungent lake of scrumptious, finger-licking man-seed. It certainly didn’t have the cum-basted, bare backside of a thoroughly fucked, hugely-swollen french cum-dumpster dangling limply out of the rear passenger door either.

More was the pity, because Marnie sort of remembered that last trip kinda sucked for some reason. Not this time though. This time her pretty little pussy was constantly a-tingle with exquisite delectable delight, all because she on her knees in the dirt lavishly worshiping her Man’s fabulous capital-C Cock!

His massive meaty staff was pressed up under her tight peachy top. It bulged in pornographic proportions through the stretched-thin fabric and rested snugly between her shapely budding breasts with the swollen, angrily engorged head jutting well out of the plunging neckline.

“Please Master, tell Marnie she’s a Bad Girl. Pleeeease~? Marnie feels sooo~ good when you say it. Cum me, Master.“

His hand was back in her long dark hair and she adored it when he took control of her like that. It was like she didn’t have to worry about trying to guess what he wanted. Her big daddy Master would just do all that tricky thinking stuff for her then gloriously fuck her in whatsoever way he desired.

Like, right now he wanted to look down into her big green eyes as he fucked her little titties and ruined her favourite top. It was her pretty pink top, Marnie really liked the color pink. It was the same shade as bubblegum and fairy floss...

“I don’t cum you, Marnie.” Gosh but he liked calling her that for some reason and she liked being called it to. He always sounded a bit vicious when he used that name and that just got her more excited. “I don’t really care if you cum at all, girl but you will... fucking... make.. me... cum!”

He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust of his double-wide pistoning hips. The thick, dribbling tip of his ravaging shaft kept knocking her under the chin leaving a warm, wet splotch there each time. Marnie wanted to lower her face, open her hot little mouth to take that pounding battering ram between her parted, drooling lips and make her Master feel good but he held her head firmly back.

So she looked him right in his brilliantly blazing eyes, pouting prettily for him and batting her long, dark lashes as her plush, dewy pussy ached to feel him cum on her parched skin again. His constantly drizzling pre-cum soaked her front and her alabaster smooth skin sparkled with it in great glistening smears and pearly globs. The smell of his impossibly viscous spend clung to her flesh, stuck her drenched clothing to her body and pervaded her nose, throat and lungs.

It washed over her brain, fogging it in great clouds of smoldering desire and blotting out any silly-girl concerns she might have felt. It felt sooo~ nice... just like his massive twitching cock.

The length of his enormous shaft stretched from her tiny belly button, up her cum-slicked diaphragm through the shallow valley of her flushed tits until the monstrous slathering head bounced sloppily off her sharp clavicles. She couched her pert tits in her forearms and did her best to roll them but her Man was so mouth-wateringly big and she was so delicately small in comparison. There was only so much she could do with what she had.

“Come on you useless Cum-Slut, don’t just sit there. Use your fucking mouth.” Ford snarled and Marnie quivered in delicious rapture.

He released her hair and she immediately dived down to glom ravenously onto his ravishing cock, sucking like a vacuum that got hold of the drapes. Just like a Bad Girl Fuck-Pet should. Oh how she shivered when he called her such wicked, filthy things. Especially when he did it with his magnificent manhood knocking at the back of her teensy tiny throat. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t appreciate such passionate language before, because now it turned her long, long legs to wobbling jelly.

Marnie’s hot lips stretched wide and her wet tongue lashed over the first few inches of her Master. His girth was extreme and domineering making her jaw ache but the moment his seed began pooling on her taste-buds her mind lit up in an ecstatic firework display. She grabbed at her diamond-stiff nipples through her trashed bustier, pulled hard and tried to distend her firm young tits around his scorching, throbbing meat. As though she could stretch her supple young flesh like elasticated rubber to finally encompass his riotous immensity.

She would happily ruin her nubile body just to please her Master. She would eagerly ruin the bodies of countless others if she so much as suspected it would get him hard. She would hold her own mother’s stupid head down on his smothering thickness until she choked to death on a throat full of his dense, sticky seed if meant he would finally fuck and claim her!

She would be his Bad Bad Girl just like he called her.

“Ack, Gluck, Urck!”

Marnie knew her Man liked it when she gagged for him. It made her pussy drip with molten heat when he invaded her so completely. When he brutally breached her esophagus and fucked her small mouth until her vision dimmed dark around the edges.

“Take it, you faithless Fuck-Slave.” He rumbled in a voice ominous as approaching thunder, “Take it all down your useless whorish throat.”

She could feel him bulging out her slender neck as her body lit up in an arc of searing pleasure. His harsh words clawed at her very core and she arched her back, pushing every inch over her beautiful lithe body against his colossal raging manhood trying to wrap all of herself around it. She wanted him to grab her convulsing body and manipulate her like a living sex-doll then fill her every empty hole to overflowing with his endless blessed man-juice.

“Mmmmmnnhp!”

Then she felt it, the wild jerking of his inflamed steely flesh that heralded the torrential geyser of his yummy-nummy hunk-seed blasting down her long neck and filling her desolate Bad Girl belly. She twisted her head, pushed him past her gagging entrance and took his impossible turgidity as deep down her throat as she could.

She gushed fresh hot juices down her own trembling thighs in avid anticipation. She was akin to one of Pavlov’s dogs; trained and conditioned to climax then drool for her Masters scrumptious load in response to his tremendous body’s lascivious signals. To think she had started the day thinking Ford; her Uber-Stud Master was unworthy of her silly little self.

No... that was Marina. Marina was a stupid stuck-up prude who didn’t know her place. She wasn’t Marina... She was Marnie and Marnie was her Master’s Bad Girl who definitely knew her place.

It was on her knees before her hulking Man, choking herself on his supreme gargantuan dick until she received his hot, stomach-stretching load!

She wasn’t going to waste a drop if it.

She was a greedy, cum-hungry whore.

She knew her Master liked that.

Ford stormed down the scraggly trail towards his destiny like an angry behemoth. His manly strides ate up the distance as his huge tree-trunk legs pumped like great pneumatic cylinders, powered by the inferno-heat of consuming lust and furious vitriol blazing within his goliath chest.

He carried the naked, seed-slathered form of Lizzy, limply tucked under one massive arm. Marnie was perched precariously on his boulder-esque shoulder, her delicate feet bouncing off one slab-like pec and her slim arms thrown around the marble column of his neck. He didn’t even register their weight, barely noted their presence and his vision tunneled in on his fated destination in the distance.

“Mmmmm, hurry Master! Your Marnie-Slut needs to show the world how well your big Daddy Dick fills her cock-hungry Bad Girl throat again.” She giggled into his ear before tracing it with a long, lascivious lick.

She was hugging herself to the side of his bullish head, her full slopping belly jiggling beside his lantern jaw. Her worthless clothing was gone. Her stylish ankle boots long lost, her sodden bustier top torn to tatters in his callous treatment of her tits and her panties washed away by her repeated cunt-gushing responses to his rough handling. Only the scanty pleated tennis skirt remained, distinctly off-white in colour now and it flipped up revealing her glistening, swollen pussy lips with every bounding step he took.

Shrubs and scree were crushed and scattered beneath his huge feet. Loose gravel and sand kicked out behind him as he took to the slope like a thundering stampede. He grabbed the lower bough of a large Cypress to steady himself at a hairpin turn in the trail only for the entire tree shift under his palm as roots and soil were torn from the ground by his crashing momentum.

“Quickly Master, you’re almost there! Your Fuck-Puppet Bad Girl will make sure you get aaall~ the hottest pieces of ass...“

Marnie wiggled on his shoulder and Ford could feel his skin there growing slick with her excited, leaking juices. He could smell her wanton sex beside his face, his perpetually rock-hard cock standing out like a lance in front of him twitched and fired a short thick wad of ropy jizz into some sage scrub over ten feet away.

Ford roared like the giant he was and the sound boomed off the hillside around him. Let Mac know he was coming. They would all see who the little man was now.

He could see the ocean now and left the snaking path to trample directly towards his ultimate goal. The day’s sun was pushing towards noon now and somehow that seemed fitting to Ford. It fit with the staged nature of the beach last time he saw it. The way things there played out, not as in real life with all its warts and wrinkles but like on the set of a Hollywood film where everything was picture-perfect and completely scripted.

A showdown at high noon? Sure... fuck it. Ford could give Mac that final thrill before grinding him into fucking paste and taking his place as the hero of the beach.

Stephanie Rochester was trying to dry her eyes as she claimed what little privacy she could behind a small rocky outcropping in the arid hillside.

“Come one girl, pull yourself together. You’re better than this!” She whispered dabbing daintily at the corners of her eyes with the corner of a colourful beach towel.

Steph didn’t know what was wrong with her. She didn’t break down like this, she was Steph Rochester. She broke down other people!

It had all seemed like a wonderful dream in the beginning...

Steph had been invited to the beach by a fellow fitness influencer on Instagram. She would have ignored it like she did so many other unsolicited DM’s and paltry offers but the glamor shots the girl had been posting for the last few days were absolutely stunning and her Insta following had close to doubled in that short period.

That was the sort of online action Steph needed to bump herself up in status from a flowering local celebrity into someone on the road to the big leagues. To secure real sponsorship—maybe from a major make-up label—and get her gorgeous face on a few feature pages. Not in magazines pages, no. Print media was dead and just didn’t know it yet. Steph wanted to be plastered all over the highest-traffic, hottest-trending home pages on the web.

She’d made Twitter, Fandom and Pinterest her top preferences.

Then she had arrived at the beach—driven by some love-sick college pup whom she had summarily dismissed by the roadside—followed the directions sent to her, then she’d met Mac.

Handsome, wonderful, perfect Mac.

That fantasticly muscled, greek demi-god of a man who had turned her head the moment she arrived.

He’d walked past every sparkling jewel of youthful beauty on that beach and loudly declared her to be his new “Best Girl”. Some witless bimbo in the back of the crowd had collapsed in wailing tears at the sudden, thrilling proclamation.

Steph had been so happy, so overjoyed, so fucking turned-on that she had dropped to her knees and thanked him on the spot with a long, loving blow-job that ended with him coating her smiling face, bouncing tits and slim neck with his hot juicy man-seed. After that though, it all got a bit hazy...

She was still on the beach.

She had skipped her Calculus Class on Thursday to get a head-start on the weekend—she technically had a tutorial group on Fridays but the other five students had readily agreed to cover for her once they were properly cajoled and subtly threatened—and suddenly her exclusively expensive Exospace B55 smartwatch had displayed that it was Friday.

It didn’t make sense. Steph had tried to double check on her phone only to find Mac lazing on a sun-chair and scrolling through it browsing profiles of her friends on Facebook. Then he had smiled at her and all thoughts of anything but him drained right out the designer soles of her Valentino Garavani sandals.

He had held her phone up to show a picture of herself at a party posing sultrily with a pre-glasses Marina, their arms around each other’s slender waists and pouting prettily at the camera.

“Here Doll, ask your friend to come join us for some fun in the sun.”

He was sooo~ handsome and his smile was so magnetically charming that all she wanted was to please him. She had sent the text message one-handed since her other was busy working his incredible shaft while Mac, in turn, worked on his tan.

...and now it was Sunday? Steph didn’t know how that could be. She was still dressed in her daring little white thong bikini, she had tried to remember the last time she ate, slept or even passed water. There were no facilities on the small beach but surely she, or any of the other girls, must have done so but when she tried to think back all she could recall were giddy, sunny images of Mac.

Perfect hunky Mac with his big muscles and bigger dick.

Mac flirting and playing with the other striking women of the beach with her in the prize position on his arm.

Mac kissing her soulfully as she melted against his magnificent body while two of the lesser girls slurped and swallowed his studly length.

Mac touching her and bringing her to tortuous climaxes under his strong manly hands, turning her to pliable putty with effortless ease. She had been swept away like a dandelion seed in a gale and it had all been the sweetest of dreams until this morning when Gabriela had arrived.

Gabriela... Steph wasn’t queer or anything but even she had felt a more than a flutter of attraction when the dazzling Brazilian fashion model had arrived on the beach. Then the dream was abruptly over and here she was, thoughtlessly discarded like-

A bestial roar echoed throughout the scrubby hills, so close by that it made Steph jump and press the towel to her chest in fear. There was a crashing of something big tearing its way down the rocky slope towards the beach, towards her! Before she could rally herself to flee, a juggernaut figure rounded her sheltering outcropping and smashed to halt before her.

It... no-He was ginormous with a wrecking-ball physique. He loomed ominous and shamelessly naked like some lewd monolith to depraved distorting dysmorphia. The meaty cords of his surging muscles roiled under his taut skin like a mass of slithering serpents and the structure of his gargantuan body was monstrously warped. His proportions were nightmarish and twisted, none more so than the jutting, fluid-dripping totem of his cock.

Steph recoiled when she looked up, up, up into the frowning, almost familiar face and spotted the mess of a girl sitting atop the stony plateau of his shoulders.

“F-Ford? Is that you? Wh-Why are you... Marnie?!”

“What’s the matter Steph?” Marnie tittered, sounding almost drunk with wicked glee as she ran her fingers adoringly through Ford’s long, thick hair. “Not busy sucking on the cock-of-the-walk anymore? Or did ol’ Mac get tired of perfect, prissy Stephanie Rochester already?“

“Marnie? W-What’s going on... Is that really Ford?” Steph couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her pretty little pledge sister was all but naked, out-of-her mind on something and fawning over a muscled monstrosity with the face of that loser Ford. She stumbled backwards until her smooth tanned shoulders were pressed against the craggy rock behind her.

She was ready to bolt but frozen in place as the mountainous Ford lumbered towards her, dropping something wet and fleshy carelessly to the ground behind him. The dripping mass tumbled into a motionless squelching heap with a barely audible groan. Was that a person?!

“This is my Master and I’m his dirty little whore.” Marnie chirped in a high sing-song voice that sent chills up Steph’s spine. “That was Lizzy, she’s just an over-inflated cum-balloon now. Almost ready to pop. So talk, bitch... where’s Mac?”

The sinister sneer Marnie put into the other man’s name made Steph shudder as Ford’s long shadow fell over her. She trembled and looked away, her eyes downcast and staring at Ford’s prominent angry shaft bobbing a few feet from her flat bare belly. It glistened wetly in the sunshine as a huge fresh dollop of cum beaded at its tip.

Her nostrils widened and her eyelids began to flutter a new smell cut through the salty sea breeze and tickled at her nerves.

“Mac? Mac’s on the beach... they all are. Mac has a new favorite now, some young runway model from Brazil called Gabriela...” Steph felt on the verge of tears again but couldn’t drag her eyes from Ford’s hypnotically swaying uber-cock, “Nobody ever leaves the beach, we all just swim and play and lie around all day watching Mac. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I- I- I can’t stop touching myself when he...“

“Steph! Come back out here, Doll and bring your new friends with you.” A brash voice called loudly from the ocean shore.

Steph shivered even as a smile as broken as fractured glass crept over her tear-streaked face. She was torn in her immediate desire to return to her handsome, radiant Mac and a new rising compulsion to stare at Ford’s enormous, light-bending, lip-smacking Cock again.

Her body moved in jittery jerky motions as she turned back to the beach and started walking towards the voice like a marionette with tangled strings.

“We’re coming, Mac-Baby!” She called back in a shrill overly-bright tone.

Behind her Marnie just giggled again as Ford stomped forward with a deep grumbling growl.

“Somebody comes to pluck a flower from my garden. Let’s see who it is, eh girls?”

Mac had his sculpted back to Ford, muscular arms out wide in a what-am-I-supposed-to-do gesture as he played up for the girls on the beach. The snooty little prick.

The girls were all just as Ford remembered them. Each one stunningly fit and slim with flawless tanned skin, glowing manes of perfectly styled hair and full lush curves in all the right places. Mac had type, Ford’s enraged boner jerked heavily in appreciation even as his meaty fingers curled into fists the size of cannonballs.

One girl in particular stood out amongst the exquisite crowd of sensual beauties. A cinnamon skinned knock-out in a leopard print Brazilian one piece that wrapped her from hip to shoulder like a coiling snake covering her most sensitive areas like a second skin but leaving all else bare to the blazing sunshine.

Her sun-kissed hips and peachy ass rolled with smooth toned muscle, rounded and firm. Her belly was a trim plane of soft definition while her waist was positively waspish. Her breasts exploded from her chest, twin celestial hemispheres of perfect teardrop-shaped fullness. Her legs and arms were supremely long and ballerina graceful. Every inch of her skin was peerless in complexion and radiating a healthy glow.

Her face was flawless in its symmetry, her eyes were smokey dark, her lips plushly pouty and her bone structure razor sharp. Ford thought he might have recognized her from one fashion magazine cover or another if it wasn’t for the slightly slack-faced stare she had leveled at him.

“So who is it this time...” Mac began as he turned theatrically then choked off his words as his classically handsome face suddenly blanched.

Ford rolled his mountainous shoulders, shrugging Marnie off. She landed on her side in the sand with a startled cry that devolved into a hysterical giggle as she propped herself up to stare up at his towering form with starry eyes.

Mac may have been tall with the physique of a golden Greek Adonis carved from purest white marble but Ford had exceeded even that. All through the extraordinary Dr Zeus Mesmer’s Dynamic Body Program...

Visualization.

Implementation.

Supplementation.

Ford had surpassed the demigods of Mediterranean legend and raised himself above the peak of Mount Olympus itself. He was Titanic, one with the fore-father’s of those capricious gods of myth and folklore.

“Remember me, Sprout? Here’s something I owe you!” He roared furiously, raising a vengeful fist to smite the insignificant bug before him...

“Whoa! Whoa! Time out, big guy.” Mac called back-pedaling furiously into the crowd of gawping young women to stay out of Ford’s reach and raising his hands in a T-shaped sign, “Just answer me one question and I’ll go. No harm done, then the beach is all yours. Savvy?”

Savvy? No, Ford did not fucking savvy. He wanted to crush this tiny man’s skull!

“Fuck him up Master! He’ll not look so pretty when he’s just spare parts spread across the beach.” Marnie called eagerly from behind him and Ford heard the pleasured groans of her desperately frigging herself at the brutal display of his fury.

Then a warm delicate hand touched his raised powerful arm and he looked down to see bottomless dark almond eyes set into an exotically entrancing face.

This woman was enchanting. Each and every female occupant on the beach could have been described as captivating, beguiling or prepossessed. Each one a manifest masterpiece of the feminine aspect in their own way but where they might be smoking hot... this South American starlet was outright thermonuclear.

“Por favor Sehnor,” she whispered softly up to Ford, so dwarfed by his geolithic bulk. Her words were wrapped in an accent like liquid silk, “I merely wish to hear your answer to his question then you may do as you will.“

Momentarily bewitched by her shining supernova good-looks and demur smokey expression Ford stilled himself and turned ominously to Mac with a foul grimace on his face. This could only be the Gabriela that Steph had mentioned supplanting her.

“What?” He barked at Mac, feeling impatient with the cocky fool.

“Hey man, I just wanted to know...” Mac said with both his hands raised in surrender, “Who got to you? Was it Apollo? McFadden... maybe Reeves? I am a Charles Atlas man myself...”

Ford rumbled in discontent, it sounded like a rock slide. Still Mac took a tentative step forward to clarify. Maybe the treacherous toad had some spine after-all.

“Whose program did you use, man? Which booklet did you order in the mail? Because you clearly took it too far.” His eyes narrowed, “There’s something to reaching peak male perfection but you’re looking fucking grotesque Bro.“

Ford saw more than felt the blow Mac laid on him. Mac was strong and the impact was evident by the loud thudding sound of meat hitting the stone slab and closely followed by sick snapping of the bones in Mac’s pulverized fist. The older man screamed in agony and dropped to his knees cradling the broken appendage against his broad chest and Ford looked down at him in sneering contempt.

He hadn’t budged an inch under the sudden assault.

“Zeus Mesmer.” He spat in answer to the question and Mac recoiled in horrified recognition of the name.

“Dear god... You don’t even know who that is do you?” Mac gasped, his face pale and bloodless, “You’re just another one of the Doctor’s monsters now. Oh god, my fucking hand...”

The beach was deathly still except for the crashing of the ocean waves, the distant calls of gulls and Mac’s painful sobbing gasps for air.

Ford didn’t know who Dr Zeus Mesmer was but he wished the man was there so he could shake his hand and show off his success. He liked the new Ford. The Ford who was super-humanly large, indomitable in his strength, utterly dominant and truly almighty.

Hadn’t Mac spouted some trite bullshit about the ‘Right of Might” before he had kicked sand in Ford’s face a few long days ago?

Well, he figured could ponder it later as he bent and grabbed Mac by the ankle to drag him back towards scrubby hillside behind the beach.

Ford’s hard, heavily swaying cock jutting obscenely out before him was the center feminine attention, even as the terrified little man kicking futilely in his iron grip began to scream.