The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Georgia woke with a soggy snort at the familiar sound of girlish gasps and heavy thumping filtering into her bedroom. She narrowed her eyes up at the offending ceiling before frowning and sitting up.

Huh… The horribly pornographic noises weren’t coming from apartment 10a above her.

Getting out of bed and dragging on some old sweat pants, Georgia crept out into the darkened living space she and Linh shared. The front door was ajar and the dim exterior lighting cut like a dull blade across the balding carpet and over the needs-a-new-home sofa Linh had scored on Facebook Marketplace.

“Linh?” She hissed out but the apartment was still and lifeless.

Georgia’s ears pricked up as she silently slipped towards the open door on bare feet and peered out into the dingy corridor. The wet wanton sounds were coming from somewhere further down the way. With an awful sense of foreboding she snuck out into the hall.

“Linh!” Georgia squeaked in shock when she spotted her wayward roommate kneeling on the rust red carpet outside another partially open doorway a few dozen feet away.

Outside of apartment 9c.

“Shhhh~ Don’t—don’t stop them. Please…” A husky voice whispered earnestly from behind her.

Georgia almost leapt out of her skin and whirled to see another young woman clinging to the door-frame of 9a.

Paulla… Paulie… Patricia? The freshly married lady with the new infant that cried in the early hours was leaning heavily into the wall wearing a scanty daisy yellow nightie. Her chestnut hair was tangled and her cherubic cheeks were heated as she all but ground her soft postpartum body against the door jam with a needy whimper.

Georgia stared in horror as the usually shy and somewhat demure young mother mewled and tugged at a fat puckered nipple through the sheer satin sleepwear. Dark wet splotches were already forming on the front where her swollen milk-laden breasts pushed out of the lacy neckline.

“What the hell are you doing?” Georgia demanded in a low urgent tone. “Where’s your husband?”

“He… ohgawd… he’s locked himself in the bathroom. Nnrrrgh~!” The chubby little brunette ducked her head as a full body tremor wrecked its way through her jiggling curves. “Like some pathetic… ooomff~... frightened beta wimp.”

Georgia didn’t know the man personally but was fairly sure his wife shouldn’t be getting off on saying such dreadful things while trimming herself on the fixtures. The writhing woman was soiling the bottom hem of her sunflower nightgown and polishing the old timber with her flowing juices.

A particularly enthusiastic cry and the crash of toppling furniture brought Georgia’s attention back to more prurient concerns.

“Linh!” She hissed, hurrying on tip toe past two more doors to where her roommate was kneeling on widely spread knees and peeking into the Pierre family’s open entryway.

Linh didn’t appear to hear Georgia’s hushed cries as she craned her pretty head inside the doorway and buried her small busy hands between her slender clenching thighs. All she had on was a clingy tank top and shoestring thong that vanished between her trim butt cheeks as she wiggled her sleek hips and softly moaned in voyeuristic desire.

“Linh, please.” Georgia begged softly, placing a trembling hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Come back inside with me. This is all wrong…”

“Georgie? Oh, Georgie…” Linh’s voice sounded distant and wistful. “You have to see him. He’s sooo~ handsome and simply amazing.”

She didn’t want to look but she had to. Georgia desperately wanted to sneak a peek—just the quickest teensy glance—to confirm that it wasn’t Vince but some other more believable oversexed hunk or even a horny home invader wrecking the Pierre women’s place and, presumably, the ladies themselves.

“Holy fuck! That hot whore throat feels as tight as a virgin pussy…”

Linh’s slick hand was working double time down the front of her insubstantial g-string as Georgia leaned past her to peep inside and her own hand flew to cover a shocked gasp from escaping her lips.

“Do you like my Mama’s slutty mouth, Baby?” Lily crooned with both manicured hands gripping thick handfuls of her mother’s chemically straightened obsidian hair. “Does her prissy face fucking your huge cock feel good?”

There was Vince, sitting at the small dining setting with his jeans around his ankles and a plate of cooling food forgotten in front of him. He had pushed his chair just far enough for Mrs Pierre to squeeze between his pale hairy thighs under the table and bury her usually austere face in his naked lap.

Her hospital scrubs were gone. Replaced with a faded nectarine negligee that was falling off her slim bunching shoulders as her modest chocolate breasts spilled out along with a small swinging crucifix hanging from a thin silver chain. She was grasping at Vince’s pudgy waist as though trying to lock herself in place aboard his bucking hips and gurgling moans escaped her firm lip-lock around his plundering prick.

”Mmmnnph~!”

Worse still, Lily was standing beside their upstairs neighbor. Alternating between passionately making out with the unlikely stud and viciously stroking her mother’s plump cock-sucking lips up and down his glistening length with her fistfuls of Nadia’s midnight locks.

Lily was in the same little black dress as she had been back in the bar. Except part of the drooping neckline had been yanked aside to free a perky cappuccino tit and the stiff pebbled brown nipple which Vince ferociously sucked on between smoldering kisses. One of his hands was up under her dress, mauling her tender young flesh and pushing the hem up over her supple smooth hips to claw at her pantyless ass.

The barely-legal teen’s puffy lower folds were unmissable, clearly engorged and dewy with her evident arousal.

“Jeezus, you goddamn sluts are just too much.” Vince growled, jerking his hips up off the seat to meet each downward glide of Mrs Pierre’s distended jaw. “Couldn’t even wait for me to finish eating dinner.”

“What about poor Mama’s dinner, Baby?” Lily asked with a big faux innocent eyes as she bent lower to force her mother’s suckling maw to his base. Her own plump bottom lip caught enviously between her pearly whites. “She was starving for a belly full after working so hard to cook something nice for you.”

“That’s right. Gonna fill that cum-hungry belly to the brim!” Vince howled, seizing the Haitian Milf’s bobbing head in both hands and staggering to his feet. “Gonna fill her up until it leaks from her fucking ears!”

With that Vince bent his knees, angled his thrusting hips and began to squat thrust frantically up into the mature beauty’s dark choking face. Skull fucking her so hard that her tossing head cracked repeatedly into the underside of the wooden dining table and sent the plate of chicken and rice clattering onto the woven rug.

”Nnnnuurgh~!” Nadia drooled sloppily around his suffocating girth.

“Yes, Baby… Do it!” Lily all but hopped in place clapping her dainty hands in excitement. Her single bared silky breast jouncing with each happy step and a dribbling line of her pussy nectar ran visibly down her flawless tan thighs. “Feed Mama that hot liquid love then feed me too. Give it to us both, hard and fast, until your yummy hunk juice drips from all our hungry holes!”

Rather than fighting his rough handling or trying to pull away, Nadia’s dark coffee-coloured arms drew tight around Vince’s waist. Securing herself there as he fucked her pretty face and plowed her bouncing skull against the varnished timber table top.

”Mmmnnnph~!” The statuesque nurse gurgled. It was an ecstatic sound rather than a panicked one. Even as the grotesque bulge sliding down her rippling esophagus had to be cutting off her air supply.

“I hope you are ready for your meal, Mama.” Lily trilled with wicked satisfaction. “Because I’m sure it’s going to be a tummy load of hot… creamy… delicious…”

“Awww~ Fuck! Here it comes, you horny bitches…” Vince grunted, slamming himself to the balls in the single mothers drooling mouth and seizing up in an obvious climax.

“OhGawdOhGawdOhGawd~”

Georgia tore her eyes away from the unbelievable scene at the low guttural litany from Linh. Her roommate was shuddering in her own orgasmic throes. Though they were muted by the three pussy soaked fingers she had crammed into her silently squealing mouth.

Georgia grabbed the quivering girl under the arms and struggled to drag her back to their shared apartment. She tried to ignore the doors cracking open along the hallway as more keenly interested and heated female faces popped out to look back towards the Pierre family’s apartment.

Hopefully nobody would notice the dripping wet trail Linh was leaving on the balding red carpet in her wake.

“What the hell was that all about?”

Georgia was huffing as she tried to push their one and only bookshelf across the front door. It wasn’t much and she couldn’t say precisely why she did it. Only that it made her feel better.

It wasn’t like Vince was smashing down doors and violating women in their homes.

He didn’t need to. The smashing down doors part at least.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Georgie.” Linh said, looking abashed and rocking back and forth where she sat on the lounge. “I’m not proud of it but why are you moving the furniture?”

At least she had some pants back on now. Even if it was just a pair of skintight navy leggings that were so sheer it looked like she had been dipped waist deep into a vat of liquid spandex. When had Linh started wearing stuff like that?

It wasn’t really a question.

“To keep him out and you in.” Georgia growled as a dog-eared copy of the Feminine Mystique fell out of the rattling shelf and got wedged underfoot. “God dammit, how can you not see something is going on here?”

“I don’t think you need to worry about it.” Linh said, looking down at where her fingers twiddled sadly in her lap. “I don’t think Vince is interested in a girl like me.”

“That. That right there.” Georgia pointed an accusing finger at the squirming Asian co-ed. Why wouldn’t she sit still? “I just caught you peeking on a… a sexual predator and your first concern is he might not like you?”

“A… what? Vince isn’t like that!” Linh squeaked, her expression shocked. “You didn’t see it but Mrs Pierre and Lily were all over him during dinner. He was trying to be polite but—”

“No! I’m not buying it.” Georgia stamped her foot in frustration. “You can’t tell me that pimply milksop is some kind of, I don’t know, sex guru and expect me to believe it.”

“He’s a total super stud. Ask anyone. All the girls are talking about it.”

Georgia rubbed her temples and decided to try a new tack. Her head was beginning to ache and she needed to take her next round of antibiotics if she was ever going to chase this forsaken cold away.

“Linh… answer me truthfully.” She said in a slow, reasonable tone. “Have you ever spied on anyone having sex before? To get off, I mean.”

“Well… no.” The athletic Asian looked thoughtful and tapped her chin with a finger. “But I’ve been on a journey of sexual self-discovery lately and…”

“Let me ask you something else,” Georgia interjected, trying to cut to the heart of the matter. “How many times a day have you been ‘self-gratifying’ compared to before you met Vince?”

She had some idea of the answer to this question, given the lewd noises coming from her friends bedroom but Linh needed to work though the numbers herself.

“Ummm… more. Definitely a lot more often. Wait, what are you implying?”

Her roommate was beginning to look worried. As though the wool was finally snatched from her almond eyes and the incongruities were being laid bare.

Georgia let out an internal sigh of relief at the small victory.

“I’m saying that you, Sammy, Lily and Mrs Pierre… everybody is acting completely out of character when it comes to Vince from apartment 10a.” She surmised with a soggy sniffle and a rub of her sore nose. “I think we should keep our distance from him.”

Linh’s perpetual wiggling had finally come to a halt. She looked distraught at the notion. Almost tearful. “But… but…”

“But nothing.” Georgia stated firmly and balled up her fists in conviction. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this together. No matter what it takes.”

“Excuse me, Miss. Would you be willing to sign for this delivery?”

Georgia popped out her headphones, pausing the recorded lecture. It was her GNSE 12114 Feminist Ethics course and she was currently playing catch up with the study material. She looked at the nervous man in the tan gray UPS uniform then down at the digital tablet and stylus he held out towards her.

“A delivery… for me?” She asked in some confusion. Georgia wasn’t expecting anything worth signing for.

The guy was big. Built tall and bulky as though he could cart whole Santa sacks worth of weighty packages around all day and tomorrow besides. But he looked skittish as a dormouse as his nostrils flared and his eyes darted about the small lobby with an anxious look on his broad face.

“Not unless your name is Vincent Powell.” He said, looking nervous. “Listen lady, I just need someone to sign for this and I can leave. You’d be doing me a solid, alright?

Georgia’s eyes drifted to a square stack of familiar cardboard boxes, each the size of a tissue box, all wrapped up together in clear packing tape with apartment 10a on the shipping label. There had to be three dozen of them with a few loose extras stacked haphazardly atop the strapped up block of parcel post.

Then she remembered the last time she had met Vince down here by the mail boxes.

“Sure thing.” She said, grabbing the tablet and scribbling an illegible squiggle in the signature window. “Leave it with me.”

“Thanks a bunch, Miss.” The delivery man whooshed out a big sigh of relief. “I really appreciate it. This place sets my teeth on edge, though I couldn’t rightly say why.”

“I know what you mean.” Georgia muttered to herself as the UPS guy scampered away. “Why do you get so much mail, Mister 10a?”

Knowing that she shouldn’t, Georgia picked one of the identical packages at random and gently shook it beside her ear. It had a little heft to it and something solid rattled about inside the brown cardboard box.

The sound of keys in the lobby door startled her. Shoving the parcel into her book bag, Georgia darted for the stairs.

“You can still put it back, Georgie.” Linh whined, she looked distressed. “Messing with the mail is, like, a federal crime or something.”

Georgia was in the middle of washing down her evening antibiotic with a glass of faintly rust flavored tap water. She swallowed hard, fought down her gag reflex and looked back at her roommate.

Linh was sitting on their second hand couch and staring at the stolen package as though it were a viper that might strike her. She had no makeup on and was dressed in baggy sweatpants with a loose fitting shirt obscuring her lithe figure. She didn’t look happy about it either but at least the near constant tail wagging had settled down.

Even if she did keep touching the corners of her almond eyes as though to confirm they were still cosmetic free.

“I haven’t opened it… yet.” Georgia hedged, even as she fished a kitchen knife out of the drawer.

“Then don’t.” The anxious Asian coed insisted. “We could take it back up to Vince together and say it was delivered to the wrong address. I’m sure he will be pleased to have it returned…”

Georgia grimaced.

Last night was rough. Every time she had convinced Linh to accept that her recent behaviors were atypical and the result of some external influence, the aforementioned influence would make one the Pierre ladies scream their voices hoarse with ecstasy and put Georgia back to square one again.

Today was better though. Without the elated wails and wet slapping of hot flesh against flesh emptying her roommates brain of rational thought every few minutes Georgia was finally making progress.

“No. We stay away from Vince. That’s final.” Georgia said, picking the parcel up from the old coffee table and turning it over in her hands. “At least until we know what we are dealing with.”

“Georgie…”

Linh’s whimper turned into a gasp when Georgia neatly sliced through the tape and upturned the box onto the couch cushions. Off white packing beads that smelled mildly of popcorn cascaded everywhere and a small glass bottle dropped into their midst on the seat.

It looked like… perfume?

Linh had cringed away at first but now leaned in curiously as Georgia bent down to take a closer look at the mystery object. It was a pink glass spray bottle, rectangular in shape with a silver foil label on it covered in unfamiliar lettering.

“That looks like Cyrillic…” She observed. “Is Vince ordering perfume from the old Soviet block?”

“Well, that’s a bust.” Linh said with evident relief. “Nothing to see here. Just some cheap foreign aftershave. We should probably get ready for our shift, Sammy wanted us in early today.”

Georgia wasn’t so sure.

“Why do you say it’s aftershave, and what is he doing with so much of it? There had to have been over thirty more boxes exactly like this one downstairs.”

“Maybe it’s a direct marketing scheme?” Linh suggested, carefully picking up the bottle and giving the spray nozzle a gentle sniff. “It kinda smells a bit like aftershave.”

“Kinda… a bit like?” Georgia prompted, hoping for a little more clarity. She hadn’t been able to smell her toast burning this morning.

“Well, it’s hard to say with the bottle sealed…” Her roommate said, gripping the cap and giving it a twist.

“Don’t open it!”

Linh froze then blinked as Georgia snatched the glass bottle from her hands. She inspected it closely. The twist had popped the spray mechanism up into the ready position but that was all.

Was their neighbour fucking everyone up with his strange cologne? That seemed pretty far fetched, the stuff of science fiction pulp. Certainly nothing Georgia could take to the authorities without earning herself an honorary tin foil hat. She needed something more concrete by way of evidence.

“I still think we should give it back to Vince.” Linh mumbled, starting to shimmy her butt on the couch again before stopping herself with a visible effort.

“No. This gets hidden away somewhere safe.” Georgia said, eyeing the bottle suspiciously. “At least until we decide it isn’t dangerous. But yeah… we can’t be late for work. Sammy’s been getting weird about timekeeping.”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Linh said, perking up visibly. “I’m going to wear these super cute pair of little daisy dukes I picked out yesterday.”

Georgia’s skinny shoulders slumped in defeat.

“What the actual fuck?”

It was an hour before regular Saturday night… Well, “rush” wasn’t a word usually associated with the First Edition. The Saturday night dawdle? Mosy? But whatever the usual apathetic trickle of penniless drunks and edgy college kids was called, this certainly wasn’t it.

The dive bar was alive with activity and noise. Bodies bustled back and forth wielding mops, dust rags and armloads of trash. If that wasn’t an foreign enough sight in the dingy smoke stained space then the overtly feminine qualities of those same bodies was.

“Who are all these girls and what the hell are they doing to the bar?” Linh asked, rubbernecking furiously as her dark makeup free eyes widened in shock.

“Never mind that. What are they wearing?”

The question was largely rhetorical and the answer was unanimous; not a lot.

Nearly a dozen young women were scrubbing stains off the floor, buffing the olive patina off brass fixtures and polishing the scarred walnut bar top to a mirror sheen. More were pulling the moth eaten decorations off the walls, dusting the hanging light shades and chasing the spiderwebs out of long forgotten corners.

Some of those arachnids probably had squatters rights given the length of their occupancy.

And every single one of the industrious females was performing the grimy chores in her underwear.

Again, just for accuracy, Georgia corrected herself. Underwear was a stretch because the tiny undergarments actually stretched over the variety of barely clad womanly figures were obscenely objectifying and they were definitely performing in them.

For whom? Georgia had a sneaking suspicion.

The mildly familiar redhead wiping down the booth seats wasn’t merely cleaning the faded vinyl. The fiery haired strumpet was doing so in strappy heeled sandals with her long smooth legs crossed at the ankles and her full toned behind thrust up in the air as she bent invitingly at the waist.

Her blemishless pale butt cheeks were unobscured by the dental floss thong riding high over supple wiggling hips and her impressively globular breasts swayed within a racy red demi-bra at each circular sweep of the rag upon the shiny seat-back.

The shameless tart wasn’t cleaning like a normal person but more like some sultry late night television advertisement trying to sell the idea of domestic housework to dumb, horny male viewers.

She wasn’t the only one either.

A glossy brunette in scraps of snowy lace that clung to her substantial tanned curves was buffing the brass knob at the end of the bar rail in a decidedly suggestive fashion.

She knelt before it, the high heels of her matching white pumps dimpling her cushiony ass, stroking an oily cloth along the length of the gleaming support before swirling it over the spherical end with her painted ruby lips parted inched away and the tip of her moist pink tongue flickering out.

Even the dusky skinned beauty dusting the corners in a lavender chemise and frilly hipster panties did so by arching her slender back and rising up onto her tiny toes. As though to best present an immaculately lean honed physique that befitted a gymnast. Her long midnight hair tickling the top of her taut derriere as she swished alluringly from side to side with the movements of her ridiculous feather duster.

“Can you two stop blocking the doorway? Some of us have work to do, you know.”

Georgia almost didn’t recognise the porcelain pale figure scowling up at her and Linh, clutching a musty stack of sombreros to her modest chest. It might have been the streaks of dirt on her cheeks or the ebony corset, panty and garter belt combo the inky haired coed was salaciously sporting but eventually…

“Emily?” She gasped, eyeing the under-dressed Bronte sister incredulously. Where were the torn jeans and floral grandma blouses? Where was the Boho beanie and ironically chic flannel? “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Who’s Emily? My name’s Rebecca and I’ve got to dispose of all this crap before opening time.” Emily, nay, Rebecca replied curtly. “So if you don’t mind…“

“Ah, Linh. Georgie. You girls are right on time.” Sammy called from a door behind the bar. “Please, let the young ladies get back to work and meet me in my office.”

Georgia pushed past the barely dressed hipster, nearly knocking the armload of hats from her grasp, as she stormed across the bar to confront her boss. Linh trailing in her wake, looking a bit stunned.

They ducked under the end of the bar and Georgia all but kicked the door to Sammy’s tiny cluttered office open in her outrage.

“Alright, where is he—” She began then stopped dead in her tracks. “Sammy… what happened to you?”

The blonde manager was just sliding her desk drawer closed and fanning at the air as Linh squeezed into the confined space behind Georgia.

“Where is who, dear?” Sammy asked politely as she leaned against the cracked timber desktop and folded her hands patiently in her lap.

Sammy looked… different.

Had she got extensions? Because her usually shoulder length golden hair fell in long voluminous tresses down past the middle of her back. A back bared by a small crochet bralette top that pushed up her full breasts just as her taut midriff and toned thighs were exposed by a high waisted pair of ivory cut-off jean shorts.

This wasn’t Sammy. This vivacious figure with a knowing little smirk on her full strawberry lips who lounged on her boss’s desk. Sammy wore business-like blouses, midi skirts and practical footwear. Those kitten heeled white cowboy boots belonged to a woman looking to spend a night on her back, not on her feet running a bar.

Georgia shook her head, trying to clear it. The tiny office felt stuffy and her pale skin tingled in the warm, close air.

“Vince!” She demanded, “He’s here somewhere, isn’t he? Do I need to check that goddamn bathroom for—”

“Calm down, dear.” Sammy clucked her tongue with a small shake of her head, giving off an air of maternal disappointment that made Georgia want to scream. “It’s only us girls here. Though I think you need to closely examine this infatuation you have with young Vincent. It doesn’t sound entirely healthy.”

Georgia gaped at the preening blonde and turned to Linh for support. The cute Asian coed didn’t catch her eyes, instead she was looking around the tight space as if expecting to find something that wasn’t there. Her dainty hands clenched together beneath her pert bosom and her nostrils twitching.

No help from that corner.

“Then how do you explain what’s going on out there?” Georgia insisted, pointing back at the door. It was closed and she blinked at that unexpected revelation. She hadn’t closed it.

“Simply some long overdue spring cleaning and redecorating.” Her boss said in a weary tone used to soothe upset children. “The girls outside are prospective new hires. Think of today as their auditions for a job here at the First Edition. Frankly, we need the extra hands given how busy we’ve been lately.”

“They’re not wearing anything, it’s indecent!”

“They’re cleaning, dear. Nobody wants to get all that dust and grime on their new uniforms.” Sammy explained as though it were the most rational statement in the world. “Besides, many of them are wearing significantly more now than at their previous place of employment.”

Sammy’s eyes fixed on Linh for a moment then with a nearly imperceptible nod of satisfaction she turned back to Georgia with a more concerned look. “Are you feeling any better today, dear?”

“Stop calling me that!” Georgia wanted to tear out her own hair in frustration. “You can’t tell me that… that man isn’t behind all of this. Just look around and ask yourself if this all seems like normal behavior.”

“Georgie…” The blonde bar owner let out a long, suffering sigh and got up to approach her, drawing in close to place a hand on her shoulder. “I will admit that I spoke briefly with Vincent earlier today to offer him a part-time position working the door and checking IDs.”

“I knew it!”

“...which he politely declined and excused himself to head off to his day job. I had to work very hard to persuade him to help us out in the evenings. That was the entire interaction, Vince was here for less than fifteen minutes.” Sammy said calmly, looking into Georgia’s eyes with a kind, if searching expression. “I know you have been unwell and are struggling with all the sudden changes but this business has been riding on a knife’s edge for months now. We need to adapt to a new paradigm or close our doors forever.”

“Wait… so Vince is going to be working here now?” Linh asked, her voice sounded hopeful, excited. Her slender hips began to gyrate minutely in her tight denim daisy dukes.

“I can’t. I just can’t…” Georgia whined, shaking her head and feeling a tight clench of anxiety deep in her gut.

“Why don’t you head home, dear? One of the other girls will be more than happy to cover your shift.” Sammy said kindly, stroking a lacquered fingernail down her cheek affectionately. “Rest up and come back to us when you are feeling well. Everything will be fine, better than fine, you’ll see.”

“O—Okay…” Georgia’s head was spinning and the office felt terribly claustrophobic, the fight seemed to drain right out of her. Was she finally smelling something? She rallied heroically, “But this isn’t over.”

“Of course not, dear.” Her boss crooned, opening the door for her and gently ushering her out into the bustling bar full of lingerie clad beauties feverishly working in a pornographic parody of cleaning. “Get well soon and come back to us, ’kay?”

Georgia turned to fire off one last retort but couldn’t find the words. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton candy. Sweet, cloying, sticky.

“Did you say something about new uniforms?” Linh asked eagerly, bouncing in place beside the coffee-stained desk. “We never had uniforms before.”

“I did. Come see.” Sammy said with a pleased grin as she reached into a large cardboard box marked ‘same day delivery’ in big blocky letters stamped on the side. “It’s nothing special but it’s a start…”

Georgia saw her hold up a slinky black tube top with the ‘The First Edition’ printed in gold lettering across the front. There couldn’t have been more than six square inches of elasticated fabric to the entire garment.

“O.M.G! That looks super hot but… do you have any makeup I can borrow? I want to make my eyes really pop before my shift starts.”

“Of course, dear.” Sammy replied, and Georgia saw her boss reaching into her desk drawer before the office door swung closed on its rusty hinges.

She fled with Linh’s squeal of delight echoing in her ears.

Georgia lay awake in her narrow bed and stared furiously up at the cracked plaster ceiling above.

The evening felt unseasonably warm and a quick glance at her phone told Georgia it was just past eight o’clock in the evening. For once, things were blessedly quiet. No banging of furniture or heavy grunts coming from upstairs. No crashing of breakables and girlish moans of ecstasy. She could finally sleep undisturbed.

Eight o’clock.

Georgia sat bolt upright. Eight o’clock meant the First Edition would be in full swing, a term that seemed more apt for the bar than ever before, and Mr Growly Grunts would be busy working the door.

Apartment 10a would be empty and ripe for a little… investigation.

Slipping out of bed, Georgia grabbed a butter knife from the kitchen then climbed out her bedroom window onto the fire escape. The night was overcast and the lack of windows in the building across the narrow alley kept it dark as she snuck barefoot up the steel stairs to the small landing outside Vince’s window.

Security in the building was a joke. Other than the single deadlock on each apartment’s front door, there was little to stop even the most unmotivated thief from helping themselves to the residents belongings. Georgia figured none had bothered if only because nobody in this dump had anything worth stealing.

So when she slid the dull blade between the frame and the window sill, it was no surprise that the latch sprang open at a touch. Easing it open, Georgia ducked inside and almost reeled when the pungent stink of the unlit room pierced her stuffy olfactory.

Oh fuck.

It reeked of sweat and sex, and underlying that thick haze was a powerful odour of something almost spirituous. Sharply chemical.

Georgia covered her nose with one hand as she tiptoed across the room and fumbled for the light switch. Her foot bumped against something with a glassy clink and when she turned on the light she saw what it was.

A pink perfume bottle with a silver label.

It was empty and it was far from alone.

Dozens more just like it were strewn across the floor among discarded beer cans, fast food wrappers and rumpled clothing. Some of that clothing was unmistakably female. Five different pairs of scanty women’s panties, clearly soiled and discolored in the gusset, were hanging from a curtain rod like hunting trophies on display.

Georgia was disgusted. How did any woman not take one look at this filthy trash heap and run away screaming? Her eyes were beginning to water and her skin prickled unpleasantly as she leaned down to inspect one of the glass bottles.

The spray nozzle had been removed, as though a few spritzes weren’t enough and the bastard had just been dousing himself in the contents straight out of the top. This was evidence. Of what she couldn’t rightly say, the choking stink in the air was making it hard to think clearly but Georgia knew she really wanted that bottle.

Maybe to compare to the one she had hidden under her mattress downstairs? To check the Russian writing on the label and make sure they were the same? That sounded like a good idea and she only stopped herself from mindlessly scooping it up at the last minute.

Georgia shouldn’t handle it with her bare hands. That was, like, a safety concern, right? Instead she picked up one of the less filthy looking shirts laying on the floor and wrapped the suspect container up in it.

“Vince, Baby. Are you home?” A whispered voice accompanied a gentle rapping at the front door. Georgia froze in panic. “I saw the light from under your door. Ummm… Not that I was watching for it or anything. Let me in, Stud. I need to feel you again sooo~ badly…”

Georgia didn’t recognize the voice but it was soft, breathy and desperately feminine with the edge of an animal whine to it. She stood with her prize clutched to her chest, rooted to the spot with indecision.

“Pleeeease~ Vince. Gimme a little taste you.” The voice was growing more insistent, more urgent. The tapping on the door taking on an added ferver. “Fuck me raw, treat my throat like a pussy, whatever you want, Baby. I just need it so bad right now.“

Georgia began to creep her way back towards the open window, carefully placing her feet as not to disturb any of the trash covering the floor. She didn’t make any noise but the woman outside seemed to sense the movement.

“I—I know I said I didn’t do… that but if it’s for you…” There was a new plaintive, beseeching note to the begging, “You can take me in my butt. I’ve never let any man fuck me back there. It’s tight and untouched and all yours, Sexy. Please just let me in. Then you can bend me over the couch again and dump a fat load of your yummy spunk deep in my virgin asshole.“

Georgia’s hair wanted to stand on end as she reached the window.

She needed fresh air, the dank funk of the sex sodden apartment wanted to cling to her, seep through her clothing and into the pores of her goose-fleshed skin. She was practically panting for breath as she ducked through the small opening.

“Danny, my boyfriend… We had a fight and I kicked him out. He was so weak, so inadequate when compared to you, Vince.” The hammering on the door was replaced by the scratching of fingernails, like a distressed house pet scrabbling to get inside. “He knew it too. He proposed to me, can you believe that? Tried to lock me down and take me away from you. You should have seen his expression when I laughed and threw the stupid ring back in his stupid face. Let me in, Baby and I’ll describe it all to you around my hot mouthful of your huge tasty cock…”

Georgia didn’t even close the window behind her as she rushed out into the balmy night. Back down to her apartment where she hid under her bed sheets and fought to breathe.

Her body was on fire.

Caught somewhere between dreams and wakefulness Georgia tossed and turned in her sweaty sheets. Her nipples ached, hard against the cotton of her t-shirt and her pussy thrummed like a plucked guitar string.

It was like someone had plugged her pleasure centers into an amplifier and turned the volume up to eleven. She burned to be touched, to feel someone’s hands thrilling across her most sensitive parts, teasing and pleasing her until she crested the peak into a glorious soulful climax.

Georgia was delirious with desire and in her fevered state she could almost see them. A faceless, formless figure sucking puffy pink little nips, licking a searing hot circle around her pierced navel, spreading her drooling pussy wide and…

“Oh gawd~”

Georgia’s eyes fluttered half-open as her painted pitch fingertips quested down into her damp lacy boy shorts to rub frantically at her rosy nub and dip between her dewy folds. It wasn’t enough. Georgia wasn’t a habitual self-gratifier but she had more than a tourist’s familiarity in finding the path to her own pleasure.

She stroked and circled, rubbed and swirled. She curled her own slender fingers deep inside her slick channel, grazing that sweetest of spots but kept coming up just short of explosive relief. Georgia wanted to howl in her desperate need as her slim hips bucked up off the bed and her skinny thighs flexed.

She was caught in her own personal edging nightmare and needed somebody… anybody.

Anybody but Vince.

Never him.

“No, please no…” A soft whimper came from outside Georgia’s bedroom door.

She groaned and rolled out of bed, landing heavily on her hands and knees. Her inky hair clung to the perspiration on her porcelain skin as Georgia crawled to the door and peeked her head out into the shared living space. Linh was on the beat up old couch and hunched over, her small body naked and trembling as she gasped out her own yearning cries.

“Linh, what—” Georgia began then stopped as her roommate spun in surprise to face her.

“Georgie, oh Goergie!” Linh sobbed, her beautiful almond eyes were caked in mascara that ran with her tears and big fake lashes that had to be over an inch long. “It’s awful. I want him so badly and I know it’s all wrong but I do!”

She was clutching something to her chest. It was hard to make out in the dark but it called to Georgia and she crawled closer as Linh began to babble. Her senses alight with the primal need to be touched.

“I remember what you told me and I saw it at the bar tonight. All those gorgeous women fawning over Vince like—like he was someone special…” Linh hiccuped then buried her face in her arms and sniffled, huffing at the familiar looking bundle before coming up again with an anguished wail. “But he is special! I don’t know how or why but he is. He shouldn’t be, I can see that now but there is something deep within me that is screaming for his touch. To taste him, drink in his scent and feel him stretching out my aching pussy.”

Georgia was close enough to reach out and place a trembling hand on her friend’s bare knee. Both of them moaned at the skin contact and Linh dropped what she was holding as her lithe body arched into the touch.

It bounced and rolled onto the floor; Vince’s shirt and the empty glass bottle of scent. Georgia glared at it and growled as a righteous fury blazed in her small breast to rival her incandescent arousal.

“Vince did this to us and I won’t let him get away with it, Linh.”

“But… But I need him, Georgie.”

“No, you don’t. We have each other.” Georgia hissed, kneeling on the grubby carpet between the Asian coed’s knees and smoothing her fitful hands up over the shuddering girl’s parted thighs. “I know his game now and I think we have everything we need to beat him at it.”

She withdrew from Linh long enough to pick up the dirty shirt and slip it on. It was a depressingly blue plaid and had a wet mark where the last few drops of the bottle’s contents had soaked into it.

That was all for the best.

Then Georgia climbed up her pretty roommate’s petite naked body until she was all but laying atop her, pushing her back into the couch with their soft lips pressed suddenly together. It was Georgia’s first time kissing a girl, probably Linh’s too from what she knew of her closest friend’s romantic history.

It didn’t matter.

The potent manly scent clinging to the stolen shirt and their burning urgency to feel another’s touch washed away all discomfort and objections in a roiling flash flood of carnal craving. Georgia slipped a tongue between Linh’s groaning lips and tasted her flavor before pulling back to stare down into her shimmering eyes.

“Ah, Georgie. I never…” Linh began, then let out a gusty whimpering mewl as Georgia slid a questing hand down over her flat belly onto her moist womanly mound. Her trim hips bucked as Georgia dredged two clever fingers through her tight little pussy. “Oh Jeezus, Georgie… fuck!”

Georgia palmed a firm breast in her free hand. Linh had nice tits, especially considering how petite and slender the rest of her was. She tweaked then pulled at her panting roommates stiff brown nipple, knowing how hypersensitive they must be by the throbbing in her own diamond hard buds.

Both of their bodies were geared up for sinful ecstasy and only needed a helping hand to get there. To satisfy their singing nerves and tease out the proofs of their prurient pleasure. To keep them out of Vince’s devious clutches.

“Just let it happen, Linh.” She gasped into her friend’s mouth as her thumb played over the writhing girl’s hard nubbin and her fingers dipped into her dripping folds. “We can do this for each other. Just close your eyes and imagine that it’s him, not me and we can get through this together.”

Linh’s nod was a small jerky movement, her eyes squeezing shut and her breathing growing deep as she inhaled the pervasive smell baked into the stolen shirt hanging from Georgia’s back.

“Oooh~ Vince, you feel so fucking good inside of me. I’ve wanted this for sooo~ long.”

Georgia wanted it too, her treacherous pussy betraying her with a sizzling thrill of delight at the man’s name. She began to grind herself against Linh’s smooth thigh as she worked her twisting fingers faster into her roommate’s spasming cunt. The added friction of her swampy boyshorts dragging across her exhilarated bud was an electrical sensation. Her hands grew rougher as she mauled Linh’s pliant flesh as she imagined Vince might do.

Images of the man sparked to life in her imagination unbidden as Georgia remembered the heinous scenes of debauchery she had been subjected to since he moved in a few weeks ago.

Vince mercilessly plowing the stripper into the couch and using her big fake knockers like handles to jerk her harder down onto his massive cock.

“That’s it. Take it…” Georgia growled as she yanked harshly on Linh’s rubbery teat. Her voice sounded deep and gravelly, even to her own ears, bordering on cruel. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes. Oh fuck, yes!”

Vince stepping out of the men’s bathroom with a cum drunk bride-to-be dangling off his shoulder. Her beautiful hair a freshly fucked bedhead and her pretty cock-sucking lips bruised and drooling with his virile spend.

Georgia crammed a third finger into Linh’s soaked and gripping channel, ramming in deeper and curling them as her friend arched her slender back in a silent scream of imminent exquisite bliss. Georgia seized Linh’s throat, forcibly choking off the incriminating cry of release before it could damn them both.

“You’re just another little slut, aren’t you?” She groaned, her sweaty face pressed into the couch beside Linh’s ear. Georgia’s trim body hunched and thrusting as she savagely humped her roommate’s twitching thigh, her flowing pussy nectar slickening the expressway to her own climax. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m a slut.” Linh wheezed, her face darkening as Georgia’s grip remained tight on her slender throat. Her eyes never opened though and she didn’t struggle as she moaned. “I’m a dirty little slut…”

Vince kissing and groping a gorgeous, half-naked Lily Pierre as she joyfully urged him to keep feeding his girthy length down her mother’s tight suckling throat under the dinner table.

“Say it again.” Georgia grumbled, she was close. So goddamn close but something intangible was holding her back from that final push over the precipice of orgasmic eruption. “Tell me what you really are…”

“I’m a slut! I’m your slut. I’m your filthy little fucktoy—”

Yaaassss~!

Georgia’s wet thumb blurred over Linh’s engorged pearl as her plunging fingertips rode the rough internal flesh of her friend-turned-lover’s g-spot. The moment crescendoed as her own fast approaching fulfilment reached fruition and her thighs clamped tight around Linh’s leg in a spastic paroxysm of toe curling rapture.

“Hyaaa~...”

“F-fuck it feels so… good~!”

They rode out their rapturous peaks together, a hot wash of Linh’s juices squirting out around Georgia’s buried fingers as her own pussy drenched her soiled panties. She released the gaping girl’s neck as their sticky bodies seized for a glorious endless moment before going boneless and they sagged into a wet tangle with one another on the sex sodden couch.

Linh nuzzled her tired, flushed face into the old shirt covering Georgia’s small perky chest as they both gasped urgently for air.

“Georgie… oh my gawd, Georgie.” Linh gasped, kissing her breathless way up Georgia’s exposed neck. “Can we please do that again?”

Georgia moaned, her nose was full of that damn scent and her tired, spent body began to ache in both an intoxicating euphoric afterglow and the quickly building hunger for more.

More intimate physical contact.

More raw primal gratification.

More of what they could never ask a certain somebody to give them, no matter how much their traitorous bodies craved him.

“Oh course, Slut. Now take off my panties for me. I want to see those pretty eyes of yours looking up at me as you lick my naughty pussy clean.”