The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Little Orange Camera

Chapter 2: The Ladies Greet Back

Synopsis: A college girl and her friend stumble upon an ancient board game inside her late aunt’s home. Eager to try this piece of nostalgic entertainment they discover among its contents a little orange camera suffering from neglect and job disatisfaction. Can the two girls break free of the game before the camera uses them to reclaim its former glory?

Authors Note: Set in the same continuity as A Little Pink Camera. All characters are over 19 years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental, though some options may be themed after real life figures. Story contains nudity, coarse language, graphic sexual depictions, and a variety of willing and unwilling mental and physical changes. If you don’t like stories about mind control, body modification, or orange magical cameras then this story is not for you.

Courtney, 0720, Thursday, March 17th, 2017, Phila’s spare bedroom

Courtney hadn’t slept all night. One sleeping bag, two girls, one of which finds herself having suddenly conflicting thoughts about the other. She was horny and couldn’t allow herself to deal with it. She’d tried sneaking off to the bathroom at the other end of the old house to releave her tensions, but found when she closed her eyes and imagined her favourite firefighter/policeman rescue-then-sex scenario she kept seeing Brienne as the police officer. She wasn’t lesbian, she knew that, having had sex with half a dozen men in the last four years, but she was having a lot more trouble convincing herself of this than she thought she should. It was that damn kiss. That damn game!

Unable to finish she’d taken a cold shower and gotten back to the sleeping bag and reluctnatly crawled in. It was a big bag, but the two girls kept bumping elbows and other less pointy bits, which only made her aroused all over again. Brienne, for her part, slept like a log as usual. Courtney used to joke that Brie was a robot because she fell asleep and woke up at the flick of some internal switch.

“...sunny and warm all day long. Perfect weather for a stroll in the park or a roll in the hay, isn’t Don?” The radio suddenly clicked on to the local University frat-run radio station, the only alarm guaranteed to make the girls get up and rush to shut it off.

“Sure is, Thomas, I remember doing the horizonal shuffle with about a dozen college hotties on a day just like this last year.” Thomas and Don were assholes, but they played good music. The only problem was they thought it was a good idea to spend an hour straight talking about inappropriate matters in the morning and no one wants to listen to a couple frat guys pretend to be civilized while they ate cereal and poptarts.

“Morning.” Brienne mumbled as she rolled over and suddenly grabbed Courtney’s ass, pulling her in close and passionately kissing her as the night before, but somehow more sensual for the bed-hair and pjs. Courtney went rigid like a deer in the headlights and closed her eyes, allowing herself to take part in the kissing but keeping her hands to herself. She squealed then moaned as her pj pants slipped down in her fidgeting and Brie’s soft hand caresessed her trim and athletic ass.

For Brienne it was a good sleep filled with great dreams about being president and finally ordering everyone to stop pronouncing it ‘fus-strated’, but it was all interupted by Don’s smug voice on the radio. She rolled over to say good morning to Courtney and found herself in a rather steamy make out session with her childhood friend. She couldn’t control her hands, and she couldn’t control her lips as they fought for dominance against a tender and succulent foe. She jolted in surprise as she realized not only that she was enjoying the embrace, but that Courtney was making no effort to stop it, even as Brie’s hands partially disrobed her friend.

After a minute it ended and they could separate, or rather, try to separate. Big for a sleeping bag is not big for rapid escapes. Brienne launched herself out of the bag and, with minimal difficulty, gained her feet and hit the far wall to catch her balance. Courtney, for her part, sank further into the sleeping bag and tried to hide out of view while her heart raced and her nether regions slowly boiled. She swore she could still feel Brie’s hand on her ass, and her lips felt like they had kissed an electrical socket.

“Dammit!” Brienne swore and stomped around the room kicking softer objects like pillows and bags of clothing. “I swear to god I’m going to sue that game company! You can not do this to a person!” She paused, stopped moving, and calmed down almost instantly. “You can’t do this to a person, it is literally impossible. this is like... This is like hypnosis or brain control. It just isn’t real. But if its not real then what was that?”

“Brie...” Courtney called miserably from inside the sleeping bag.

Brienne kept rambling. “If it was hypnosis then that means we partially wanted it to happen, and if it was actually some kind of subliminal mind control then should we call the police? Should we call the government? Oh, we should call James Randi, doesn’t that guy offer money for magic and sci-fi stuff? We need to test this. I think we need other people, more cameras. Does it work with all cameras or just shitty orange ones from the ’80s?”

“Brie!” Courtney wormed her way back to the top of the sleeping bag and gulped in the cool air to clear her brain. “Stop. You’re panicking. You were probably... Um... You were probably having a dream about that game last night and you weren’t fully awake.”

“And if the camera is magic then what? Could we make more? Mass production? Make everyone a kissing lunatic. Weapon of mass destruction brought to you by Polaroid?” Brie rambled on toward that santity event horizon that leads people to become conspiracy theoriests.

“Brie!” Courtney screamed and threw a balled up sock at her friend. “Shut up!”

“Hey!” Brienne, surprisingly, caught the sock and scowled. “What is your problem?”

Courtney gestured at the alarm clock where Don and Thomas were still debating what euphemisms for sex you could say on the air while stilling being on the air. More importantly she gestured to the numbers displayed in glowing green on the face. “We are going to be late for class.”

No words in history have ever turned a person so close to panic back to a normal mindset. Rather, Brienne switched from unfounded panic to controlled and practiced panic as she rapidly showered, ate breakfast, got dressed primly, did her hair properly, and then applied just enough make up to seem professional. Within twenty minutes she went from ‘flustered make out’ to ‘ready at the door’.

Courtney, knowing her friend was once again safely into her robotic and practiced routine did her own abolutions and took her second cold shower that morning. She did her hair into her typical pony tail after a short brushing, then applied her slightly more than nessesary water-proof make-up, and pulled on her sports bra and running shorts. Pulling a simple t-shirt down over her torso she looked herself in the mirror and put on her game face, calm and ready to run. She grabbed her bag and flew out the door ten minutes after Brienne, catching up ther her friend in a third that time.

“I’m going ahead. I’ll see you... I’ll see you a lunch?” Courtney said as she jogged alongside her friend, casually just out of arms reach. “I have track all morning then Lit and Sports Anatomy all afternoon.”

“Yeah. I’m working on student rep stuff until ten, then photography club until lunch.” Brienne had pulled out her day planner whens he heard Courtney’s characteristic light step approaching from behind. “Afternoon is preparation for managing the talent show, then poli-sci and busniess ethics until five. Lunch works, meet up at the caf or the quad?”

“Quad!” Courtney shouted as she pulled ahead and ran her way to school, hoping to burn whatever was getting her blood up or at the very least work off her frustrations through exercise.

-Brienne, 1010, Thrusday, March 17th, 2017, University of Armdale

There had been a slight snag getting out of the committee meeting in time to get to photography class, so she was late and power walking while refusing to ruin her poise and outfit’s crispness by running. The big item on the minutes that had taken so long was the usage of ‘playing sideways hockey with a big stick and a tiny net.’ on that mornings radio broadcast. There would be budget cuts. More importantly they might just finally get that stupid show off the air and replace it with a classics and jazz station. She was sure that would be popular.

“Sorry I’m late, the committee... oh.” She’d finally arrived at the club room where she hopped to round out her resume, gain valuable life experiences, and gaze dreamily into the eyes of one Bradly Konstantin. Unfortunately the room was empty. She knew they were going to wander campus and take candids of the students in motion today, but she had thought maybe they’d wait for her before leaving. She was aware she wasn’t the most popular student on campus, and she was also aware that she was in the odd sort of university where committee members were voted in based on acumen and foresight rather than popularity in general, with a smattering of votes for her looks.

“Well, thats unfortunate.” She sighed as she went to her cubby to grab her camera and found it was missing. Probably taken by another club member who didn’t like her. She’d had a rough start in the club, being bossy and rightly assuming she could run it better than Markus, who was currently the club president, but she hadn’t gone out of her way to annoy anyone and had a good track record completeing the assignments.

“What is?” A voice reminicent of sand and surf asked with an audible grin from the door way. Brienne turned and saw Brad standing in the door way, his sun-bleached blonde hair cut messily as if he’d done it himself, his unbuttoned overshirt showing a tight white t-shirt that showed off the majority of his abs and pecs. Even being average height for a woman, she felt dwarfed by the masculine giant before her. At 6′4″ Brad was always the tallest guy in the room unless they were doing a shoot with the basketball team.

Brienne felt her throat catch and she tried to say something funny, or something witty at the very least, but she found the analytical part of her brain took over and overode the part that wanted to ask Brad to coffee, dinner, a movie, and sex. “Forgot my camera. Can I help you?” Damnit, that wasn’t friendly at all! she thought.

Brad’s ineffable grin didn’t stop but she could see he was expecting a different response from her. Brad cleared his throat and wandered into the room in his usual lazy way. “Everyone already left for the assignment. Markus wanted us in pairs and I was the odd one out so I thought I’d wait for you and we could wander around together. What do you think?”

Yes! Brienne thought, however what she said was “Sorry, I don’t have my camera.”

“Thats okay.” Brad pulled out his fancy vintage camera from his own cubby and a couple rolls of film, then pulled a smaller and less impressive digital camera from further inside. “You can use my spare.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Brienne said, keeping cool when she wanted to jump up and down in joy. She reached for the camera and suddenly felt a tug on her arm even though she hadn’t touched it yet.

“I didn’t say good morning yet, did I?” Brad said, looking out the window at the sunlight. “Going to be a good day for pictures with the sun just slanting through the- Hello! What are—”

Brad had to stop talking as Brienne had drove her lips deeply into his and was kissing him as if he was oxygen and she was drowning. One of her hands was over his neck, bringing herself off the ground to get to him while her other hand traced his musclature up and down his bicep. For Brad’s part he reacted on instinct, the way a man does when a gorgeous brunette starts sliding her tongue in his mouth without warning, and kissed heartily back. He tucked an arm under her ass for support, surprisingly careful not to lift her skirt up, and his other hand wrapped around the back of her neck, holding her head and keeping control of the kiss. An expert.

After a few moments Brienne realized she had control back and stopped kissing, only to find she was locked into the embrace by a gorgeous cage of muscle and carefree stubble. She pushed back and tried to turn her head, signals that were not immediately picked up by the pleasantly-shell-shocked Brad, before she slapped him as hard as she could and kneed him in the gut.

“Oof.” Brad managed as he dropped her and fell to a knee. Winded and confused, he wasn’t at all sure of what he did wrong, but he tried to get up and apologize only to stay down and gasp for air.

“Oh my god.” Brienne stepped back and recoiled in horror at what she’d done. First, that she’d been so forward enough to launch into him like that, but more so that she’d panicked and hit him in the diaphragm after slapping him in the face. He was nevver going to speak to her again, if he didnt get so mad that he’d throw her out the window or something. Not knowing what else to do, the analytical part of her mind standing back in bemusement, she ran out of the club room and all the way to the quad.

Courtney, 1150, Thrusday, March 17th, 2017, University of Armdale

Unaware that her best friend had just bludgeoned one of the hottest guys on campus, Courtney was unable to determine if she was in heaven or if she was lodged in some ironic part of hell reserved for people who suck at keeping secrets. She had just finished several hours of warm-ups, running in circles, hopping over hurdles meant for taller people, and then cool down laps. Now she was with the other trim and athletic girls in the changing room. Imagine if you will the shangrala of women in multiple stages of undress, in different degrees of showered, dried, and reapplying make-up, and now imagine trying not to oggle at these nymphs and muses as you yourself enter the same post-exercise ritual.

Courtney was not good at self-control at the best of times. As she was shaken and exhausted from working out she found it nearly impossible to control her gaze. She’d walked in and nearly fallen on her ass as wall to wall perky breasts escaped their sports bra confines, countless firm asses slid sensuously out of their running shorts, and dozens of women ran soap and water over their slick bodies in a haze of barely concealing steam. Closing her eyes and counting to ten, Courtney walked to her locker and kept her eyes locked straight ahead, closing them in partially-feigned exhaustion when she had to turn for one reason or another, and eventually she managed to get herself ready to get some lunch.

“Courtney!” came a far too upbeat voice from the showers. Melinda Espereze the cheerleader; the naked and dripping wet cheerleader. Buxom is a word that gets thrown around far too freely in a world wher people like Melinda live. With breasts and ass as far as the eye can see, all of it shaped pleasingly around a narrow waist and a face that would make a man rigid at attention at a hundred paces. Courtney didn’t stand a chance. “Hey, girl! I saw you on the track running, like, really fast and I thought you were, like, so cool!”

“I... uh... yeah.” Courtney quickly grabbed a towel and started drying her hair a second time, noting as she did that everyone else in the room was gone except the naked latin beauty and herself. She started lighty tounselling her hair in the towel, covering her face so she couldn’t see Melinda. Unfortunately Melinda isn’t a personal space kind of person and she walked right up to Courtney, a large breast and a flawless hip just visible as Courtney went through the motions of drying her hair.

“Yeah! I’m like so jealous. I wish I could run and jump that fast, but these things just keep getting in the way, you know?” Melinda edged closer. “Say, You’re really close with that stuck-up girl, right? The one who always acts like shes the president of everybody? What’s her name... Um... Brandi?”

“Brienne?” Courtney’s focus wasn’t on the conversation as much as it should have been, but she did remember that the cheerleaders in general didn’t like the student representation committee. “Yeah, we’re, um, we are, uh... best friends.”

Suddenly there was a tug on the towel as Melinda pulled it asside and looked straight into Courtney’s eyes. Melinda’s eyes were large for her face, which served only to counter her large, lucscious lips and pert, tiny nose. It was hard to figure out what to look at as Melinda moved in and wrapped Courtney in a light hug, her pendulous breasts with their dark, thick nipples lightly carressing the front of Courtney’s shirt.

“Yeah, her! Well I was wondering if you could do me a huuuge favour?” the latina, with her long, dark, and perfectly highlighted hair leaned in almost imperceptibly, just adding enough of the wieght of her breasts to Courtney’s chest to make her look down. It was a mistake, as she couldn’t look away from that endless cleavage. Melinda kept talking, biting her lip as if this was hard for her to say. “She’s being mean to my friends Tommy and Donny for no good reason. She keeps telling them they are rude and dumb, but they are really smart, and they tell really good jokes and stuff. I was just hoping you could tell her something to make her change her mind. You know, as a favour to little old me?”

“Sure...” Courtney slowly dragged her eyes up Melinda’s still-wet chest and up a long neck that still dripped from a shower barely finished, over those lips like pillows made of velvet, and finally into the deep, dark pools of hot chocolate that were Melinda’s eyes. “I could totally tell her... something.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, cutie.” Melinda said as she gently traced a finger down the side of Courtney’s face and let it linger on the lips before fading down the chin. Suddenly the olive bombshell hopped backwards, physics determining with perfection where everything would settle, and crossed her arms behind her back. She gave a seductive little smile that promised the world, then turned an walked away while calling back “Thank’s so much, Courtney, I knew you were a good person, even with all the rumours.”

“Bye...” courtney managed, only take her eyes off Melinda’s rolling hips and swaying ass when it disapeared beind the row of lockers and back into the shower. After the distraction was gone, Courtney whirred around to her locker and threw the rest of her clothes on, packed her bag, and stormed out of the locker room. “What the hell was that? What the hell is wrong with me? I’m a girl! She’s a girl! Oh my god is she ever a girl! Wow!”

She walked all the way to the quad where she saw Brienne already sitting down without her bag or her lunch. Courtney didn’t say a word as she sat down and took out her sandwhich, gave half to Brienne, and started eating. There were very few people on the quad that day, everyone running to get lunch or eating it with their clubs. As the two girls sat and ate their meager meal they kept half glancing at each other, unable to talk about their morning, and unwilling to speculate on each others.

Finally Brienne spoke. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Courtney responded, then yelped as Brienne’s hand grabbed her small breast. “Whoa, not the time!”

“Not again!” Brienne managed before she once more locked lips with her best friend. They lay rolling on the grass, kissing and groping, exposed to anyone who walked passed the bushes or the low wall around the quad. They moaned and fought, each one fighting to get on top, their hands changing positions from ass to breast to waist as if thirsty for a drink of woman.

Eventually they separated. Brienne rolled off of Courtney and curled up on her side. Neither spoke for several minutes, then Brienne rolled back and faced her temporary partner. “We have to fix this. That game is doing this, and we have to call that company to fix it.”

Courtney, aroused and flustered for the fifteenth consecutive hour, filled with a fierce determination to kill or at least maim whoever made that damn camera. “Agreed. This is not how I want to spend the rest of my college years.”

And with that they got up, grabbed Courtney’s things, and trudged home in silence. If they had looked back they would have noticed the many sets of eyes observing them from a lofty window and around a dark corner.