The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Once again, I stood, arm outstretched and with a pained expression on my face, over my chest of drawers. Midway through the week following my drunken confession on Friday, and this had become my daily routine.

Most of the time it felt ridiculous that this should be so difficult—For god’s sake, have a little backbone and wear what you want to wear! I would berate myself—but every day when the time actually came around, I remembered how difficult it really was.

This time my hand was hovering over a soft, grey hoody that had been one of my favourites. Every now and again I would work myself up to touch it, and then recoil from the cold deadness in my fingertips as though I’d touched an electric fence.

On impulse I shut the drawer and opened the one with my t-shirts in it. Right away I felt a pulse, and my hand tunnelled it’s way under most of the clothes to pull out a red, tummy-bearing tee I had perhaps never worn. Feeling the heat coming from where my hands were touching the fabric, I caressed it like the finest silk.

My eyes involuntarily closed as the fiery sensation conjured images of how I would look wearing it. The neckline was low enough that it would make my boobs look great, and it would hang playfully around my stomach—it would feel so good to wear with those skinny jeans that moulded to my legs and ass and-

I shuddered as I tried to stop myself from getting carried away, but it was too late. I was breathing raggedly and burning up. I tried to motivate myself to return to the hoody, but the thought of wearing that… thing made the day ahead of me seem like a long, nauseating nightmare stretching out for hour after hour.

My jacket. I would wear a jacket over the t-shirt, that would be my compromise today. Maybe I wouldn’t even take it off once I got to class. Yes, that would be good enough, I concluded. The remnants of the cold nastiness were replaced by relief.

As I pulled the t-shirt over my head it felt reassuringly erotic, the pulses stroking my tits delightfully. I realised that I now only truly felt at ease when I was at least a little hot and squirmy.

I hadn’t stopped feeling the touch of those hot pulses as I entered class, and I was helpless not to smile. Eirin looked up at me and returned the smile as I crossed the room—a genuine smile rather than her cynical one, something she had been doing more often lately. Before I knew it, I was unzipping the jacket and shucking it off my shoulders, my previous plan to keep it on defeated in an instant. I felt the heat as I saw her eyes just for an instant flick down to my chest and then back.

The pulses liked it when people checked me out, and unfortunately that meant poor Eirin had been on the receiving end of some teasing from me, whether I intended it or not. In the few days since I first got an inkling of her crush that night in the pub, I had become acutely aware of the way she looked at me, and with my new inclinations I found it adorable.

I plopped down in my seat, sitting on it sideways so I was still facing Eirin. I squinted at her a little. “Hey, is that new lipstick? It looks so cute on you.”

She blushed, as she had done so much that week. “Th-thanks. I figured you’d been looking so good lately, I should make more of an effort too.” She stumbled and mumbled her way through the sentence, flashing me an awkward smile.

After that, things relaxed a little as we eased into more familiar conversation territory about our course and our much-despised classmates. As soon as the lecturer started class, however, Eirin fell silent and fixed her attention to the front of the room. Even sitting next to the girl she liked, nothing could distract Eirin from her studies. A little disappointed, I opened my own notebook and tried not to let the pulses distract me from taking notes.

I tried to summon a little disappointment in myself for carrying my jacket back home over my arm instead of putting it back on as I stood at my door digging for my key, but I couldn’t pull up the negativity. It just felt too good to give in. It had taken a distressingly short amount of time for all of this to become routine, and I was usually able to kid myself that my strategy was working, that I was gradually easing myself back towards normality.

And then her arm was around my waist.

I dropped everything to the ground as the flushes and tremors shook me. Whatever I had been feeling as I had been going about my daily life over the past week, it paled in comparison to what it was like when she was there with me. I had forgotten.

“Hey, sweetheart!” She said breezily in my ear, the touch of her breath as potent as the touch of her hand, and then her voice dropped a couple of registers to a low purr. “Mm, look at you.” She paused after each of the last three words for emphasis, and I swallowed. It wasn’t just her touch, the sound of her voice affected me too, and so did the way her eyes felt running over me. Everything about her elicited a physical reaction in me.

I tried to raise my voice at her, but the heat was thick in my throat, and I could only manage a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing to me?” I was willing my own icy voice to shock me awake, and not melt in the flames she was stoking in me.

She grinned, and easily spun me around to face her. Both of her arms wrapped around me—far more contact than ever before—and what little momentum I had that had allowed me to speak up against her died. So many pulses. So, so very hot.

“I’m giving you just a hint of what I can do for you; I’m making you feel the way that only I can make you feel.” Her face was desperately close to mine as she whispered to me, each word teased out to be as dripping in sensuality as possible. Whatever response I might have had left me in a single trembling breath as I gazed into her eyes.

Those enrapturing eyes narrowed playfully as her hands stroked down my back and palmed my ass. I was just standing there woozy, not returning her embrace. I can’t imagine how lost and vacant my facial expression was as I fixated on her face. Sudden and sharp, she squeezed me, and I think I may honestly have lost consciousness for a fraction of a second—my vision went white and when it cleared, she had already released me.

“I think that’s about enough for now, sweetheart. Just thought you could use a little refresher.” She turned to go, and then stopped halfway. “Oh, by the way, make sure to let me know next time you’re going out with those three friends of yours. I’d love to meet them.” She smirked, and then left, not looking back even though I was left staring at her until she rounded the corner.

I scrambled for my key, clumsy with haste as I jabbed at the lock, finally inserting it and tumbling through the door, picking up my effects and tossing them inside. I slammed it behind me and dashed for my room. I was throbbing; nothing was on my mind other than the need to cum, everything else erased by the constant pulsing.

I had pulled open my fly and jammed my hand inside my jeans before I even made it to the bed. My moaning was loud, almost violent, my neighbours forgotten for the time being as I furiously fingered myself. Visions played out in rapid succession behind my closed eyelids—she was kissing me, she was caressing me, her hand was at my throat, she was claiming my pussy.

Orgasm came quickly, but I wasn’t sated, and continued to fuck myself until my wrist was too sore to continue, climax after climax leaving my mind blank.

As I lay there gasping to regain my breath, I grappled with exactly how quickly I had lost control. It was obvious I had made no progress at all in the interval of the few days that she’d left me alone, regardless of what I might have been telling myself. How could I have become so complacent? What the hell had I been doing? I had let my own false rationalisations lull me—I was wearing what she wanted me to wear, the jacket didn’t change that. I had spent the week gradually flaunting myself more and more, happy to experience the hotness as I exposed my cleavage.

And then there were the more subtle changes to my behaviour—I had justified those to myself even more dishonestly. It was just a coincidence that I had leaned forward when I caught that cashier looking down away from my face and into my breasts, the fact that the pulses had intensified at the same time had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t posing while waiting outside of class for the door to be opened, I had just happened to relax that way. I was just stretching normally that one time, definitely not pushing my boobs out to feel the many pairs of eyes around me caress them.

I forced myself to ignore the surging sensations I had from the memories and continued to scold myself.

Just what was I doing to my relationship with Eirin with all of this flirting? She was my closest friend, but if I kept this up, she wouldn’t be able to look at me the same way anymore. And for what? Because she looked so sweet and helpless when she couldn’t stop herself from checking me out? Because every time a girl examined my bare skin it felt like physical stroking? Because the pulses were so addictive, so strong as I teased her, watching her cute little stutters and blushes as she surveyed my body, knowing that what she really wanted was-

I wrenched my hands to my sides, stopping them from continuing to tickle their way up my thighs as my senses pulsed in encouragement.

No. Enough. From now on I had to have more willpower. That was my final thought as I drifted off again into a post-cum nap.