The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Do I really have to come to one of your bad parties?” Caitlin said. She was wearing red lace panties. They weren’t in the same room—Caitlyn was in her dorm room, Nathan at the fraternity, they were on the phone. But he knew it for certain, because that was the order he’d given her, that she wear the red lace panties.

“You are the party,” Nathan said. “You double the girl population as soon as you arrive.”

“Triple it, more like,” Caitlin said. Her weight was a very, very sensitive issue. Nathan had learned to just boyfriend through it, stolid. “I have to study. I have a test coming up.”

‘Tell me when this test is,” Nathan said. He walked through the main room at the Frat. He was President now. It had turned out to be nearly a rule: if you got a big titty girlfriend who regularly spent the night, who would loudly cum in the night, you were King of the House.

“Tuesday,” Caitlin said.

“So you can study all weekend,” Nathan coaxed. “Its Friday.”

“I’ll end up sleeping over, I’ll be useless on Saturday, and that leaves Sunday.”

“And Monday,” Nathan said. “Your reward for being a good girlfriend and coming over is I will help you study.”

“My reward will be you shoving your prick in my fat mouth,” Caitlin said. “Oh boy. Lucky me.”

“See you soon,” Nathan said to his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. It had a nice ring to it.

All in all Nathan was very, very proud of himself. He had barely, barely given her any commands at all. Liking him and wanting to regularly suck his dick seemed to pretty well cover his needs. He could’ve commanded infatuation, or made her his servant, or made her an anal slut, or any number of imperious orders. He told himself: he had been given the keys to a stolen Ferrari, and he’d only taken it for a short drive around the block, before parking it in a covered garage. That was not even a crime. It was essentially responsible behavior.

There were times, when she was lying partially on top of him, fast asleep, their heartbeats in rhythm, that he could almost convince himself: there was no cum-aided mind control at work. They’d just gotten together, like thousands of other young couples. Met on a trip abroad, reconnected back in the states, and made a connection. They bantered well. They were nearly the same age—Nathan had turned twenty-one right after Caitlin. Those types of people paired up, all the time.

But then other times Caitlin was pawing at his crotch to nuzzle at his balls, visibly shaking with excitement. He doubted any other girls made a happy noise when his testicles started to contract, ready to go. And of course there was the way she was inevitably entranced afterwards, looking at him with the exact same dull expression, each and every time. He’d started giving her the underpants command just for something to say. That expression seemed to want commanding, need him to order it around. Make him to do something to her.

True, he’d made a few other very, very minor other alterations.

Most of them were about giving blowjobs.

Caitlin had processed her unusual and unending enthusiasm for blowing him with clear confusion. It was obvious that repeatedly sucking off boyfriends, without even being asked, and all the time, was not something she saw in her personality. There was a conflict there, between how she viewed herself, and how very much she wanted his cock in her mouth. In fact, one of his first commands post-girlfriend was about that. “Be honest with me about how you feel about blowjobs. And sex,” Nathan had told her. The sex one was thrown in there.

“I don’t know why I keep draining your balls,” she’d said, once the cum-drunk had worn off. Caitlin had had an hour between engineering classes and had rushed over to suck him off. “I guess this is my dumb, humiliating fetish I just have to live with. Lucky you.”

“Lucky me,” Nathan echoed, as she dove between his legs.

He’d prodded her on her subjective experience of regularly going into mind-altering trances. It was a topic Caitlin shied away from. Not consciously. She just couldn’t quite seem to focus on the question. “How does it feel to have me cum in your mouth?” he’d said, cautious and alert. They were just studying in the library, in a private room. Caitlin frowned, but a certain dreamy lilt set into her eyes. “I know…” she said, halting, suddenly very far away. “I know… that it’s good. It’s very good. I really love it. Something….” she frowned, rubbing her pencil against her lips. Finally she managed to focus on him. There was something very familiar about the dull gloss in her eyes, the throaty sound of her voice. “I don’t know why it feels as good as it does. It just does. I just feel…………………….… relaxed.”

She’d stopped talking entirely. Nathan let the moment linger. He felt a mixture of discomfort and a strong urge to get his dick sucked.

“You okay?” he finally said.

Caitlin started. “Oh. Oh! Yeah.. I’m…” she looked right into his eyes. Her lips were parted. He recognized the new look in her eyes as well. “You want to take a study break?”

“You know your cum looks different?” she’d said, another time. They’d actually had sex. Sex between them was always on the awkward side. Caitlin liked sex but she loved blowing him. Nonetheless Nathan felt like normal couples had sex and therefore they should have sex. So they had sex. She held up his used condom.

“Gross,” Nathan said.

“Yeah. Look.” she dribbled a few pearls out onto his desktop. “Its like, paint. It’s shiny. You have shiny cum.”

“I don’t know what other dude’s cum looks like,” he raised his eyebrows at her.

“I’ve watched a LOT of blowjob videos,” she told him, unabashed. Honestly. “Those boys make water with glue in it. You make fuckin, Sherwin-Williams jizz.”

He’d dealt with these moments with a command, one he thought was simple, elegant, low-impact. He’d told her his cum tasted really good. It had worked a charm. Now there was no need to reconcile her intellectual self-image with her need for Nathan cum. She’d asked a few times—was he drinking pineapple juice or something? But then Caitlin stopped asking. He just tasted good.

Real good.

It was one of their better parties. A roaming herd of dorm freshmen had piled in early on, and numbers attracted numbers. Fraternity brothers worked the bar. Mostly being President was work, but he enjoyed the cachet of having a nearly live-in girlfriend. Caitlin liked to stride out in the morning, in Nathan’s pajama pants, and simply roam the old corridors. Bleary-eyed sophomores were known to back away as she passed, toothpaste in their hands, like she was a queen on procession.

“Where’s Caitlin?” one of the brothers asked, as he hit up the beer. She liked to run the bar during the parties.

“Studying,” Nathan shouted, over the beat. Wide-hipped and the only girl around, a lot of the guys had confused, maternal urges towards his girlfriend.

“Her friends were asking about her.”

Nathan looked over, surprised. In fact there were a number of Caitlin’s friends already in attendance. A good sign for a fraternity: girls had adopted the house as their own, a safe space to drink alcohol and wear tight outfits. Still, he was surprised. Caitlin’s friends were skinnier than Caitlin and more popular than Caitlin. She’d voiced suspicion that she was the Reliable Friend, the fat one who was always designated driver, who could manage minor dorm crisis, who could be trusted with boy drama.

One of them stopped him, just as he went back upstairs.

It was the exact spot Caitlin had accosted him, right before he’d blown a load in her mouth, and ordered her to like him. This friend—Morgan?—was half Caitlin’s size, with slim hips in a high-waisted skirt, ruffled at the fringe. She wore black strappy heels and makeup. Nathan found himself crossing his arms.

“Good party,” Morgan said, smiling. She kept smiling, as Nathan let the moment breathe. He took a sip of beer, at a loss. Around her friends he usually let Caitlin take lead. She was fiercely protective of him around other girls, in a way he really liked. In groups she sat, consciously or unconsciously, in an aggressive squat right in front of him. He’s mine. If you want him, go through me.

Of course, she wasn’t around.

“Just the usual,” Nathan said, nervous. “Beer and songs. You know.”

“No! You guys keep it really chill here. The other gender notices. And you mop the floors. That’s appreciated.”

“I mean, they were really sticky,” Nathan said. She kept up that secretive smile. “Can.. I get you another beer? Once you finish that one?” Lets go downstairs, he meant. She took it the other way.

“That’s very nice of you!” She avoided mentioning their shared friend, Nathan noticed. “Can I get the tour, while I’m up here? Do you have a room where you have porno on all the walls? I’ve been in two fraternities with that feature. I didn’t know you could even get it printed. Does it come with the building?”

“We swapped it out for Marley posters in the room we smoke weed in,” Nathan said. “That was the only other option.”

“Your room is fine too,” Morgan said. Her smile lapsed, just for a moment.

Oh no. Nathan took a quick stock in himself. He was a fraternity president, and had a girlfriend, and had grown his hair out. He had also grown out his cedar-colored beard to hide his chin, and, with Caitlin’s guidance, upgraded the kind of t-shirts he wore. They were now of higher quality. It hadn’t occurred to him that co-eds might want to fuck the most available president. This was Caitlin’s purported friend. Maybe that was why.

She had a really hot mouth, he had to admit.

Shapely but without the pounds Caitlin agonized over. She was just standard cute, this girl Morgan. A girl willing to boldly hit on her friend’s boyfriend would definitely take a load in the mouth. And then he could do whatever. Heck, he could order her to be a better friend to Caitlin.

“No, that’s okay,” he demurred.

“You SURE?” the smile reached a crescendo, a peak of sharpness. The corners of her mouth were etched. She was very close to him, her body very warm. She wore some sort of scent. Caitlin never wore perfume. Except for him.

“It’s a shitty room,” Nathan said. “You’d hate it. It’s tiny.” He watched something die in her eyes.

“How do you both fit, then?” Morgan said. The smile congealed and then dissolved into a lipsticked line. Her eyes hardened. It was a relief. She was just a piece of shit. No doubt he’d relay this to Caitlin, his girlfriend, and some backstory would emerge.

“Well, we have to stick pretty close,” he told her.

“Morgan is a HUGE BITCH,” Caitlin said. “I’m texting several chat groups as we speak. My fingers are going to CRAMP from this.”

“What did you do to her?” Nathan said. They lounged in the tiny room. He was slated to move into the Presidential Suite at the end of the semester, but, at the moment, he was proud of it. He had stayed a faithful boyfriend. If he was going to use Caitlin’s tonsils for regular target practice, and dictate her underpants, at least he could be monogamous about it. He had barely been tempted.

“It’s a very complicated story, but basically, she thought it’d be fun to talk shit about my body behind my back. And then THOSE friends exposed her, which led to her getting dumped from a bunch of group texts. And THEN she doubled down again!”

“Which I immediately reported to you,” Nathan said. She rested her head on his bare chest. The party raged beneath them. It was a good sound, people moving around, getting drunk, lots of them.

“She thinks everyone in the world sucks. She’s one of those people who say ‘people are basically bad’ like its some insight. Anyway. It is time to reward my very good boyfriend.”

“You could just give me money,” he suggested.

“Very funny. No.”

Caitlin flipped over. Her tits hung low on her chest. They were firm, heavy globes, almost too much for a handful. He really liked them. He’d even mouthed the words “show off your tits more,” during the latest trance, barely able to contain himself. She arched her back and unbuttoned his pants.

“I guess I do suck,” Caitlin said. She lowered her head. She’d really learned a lot about fellatio in the past few months. He’d almost given that command, too. Told her: you want to improve at giving head. But it hadn’t been necessary. Over time she’d learned a certain rhythm. Lick, mouth, let him thrust, then bob up and down until he shivered. He watched her ass, up in the air. Her red lace peeked through the top of her tights. It didn’t fit her look at all. He loved it on her. He finished in her mouth, then gently pulled her face up. Caitlin had her cow face on.

“Blue boy shorts,” he said, stroking her face. He hesitated. He’d earned a little something, hadn’t he? “Show me your… legs more. A little. When its warm enough. Wake up at the snap.”

After that they settled into the bed. Caitlin had insisted on leaving several toothbrushes over, somewhat as a joke, and somewhat for real oral care. She burrowed into his pajamas, and they carefully settled into bed. After a minute she kicked off the pants.

“Better?” she said, pushing red lace back against him. His dick fit between her cheeks nicely.

“Great,” he said.

And then, after several minutes, when he could claim to be asleep, when Caitlin had arranged for there to be no pressure at all, she said, very quietly:

“Love you.”

Wide awake, Nathan didn’t say anything.

Oh fuck, he thought.