The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Moulding a Model Student

Chapter 3: Confiscated Libido

Tags: ff, fd, mc

Synopsis: Sofia Liang’s got nothing on her mind but her pussy, and her test scores show it. But Ms Ishikawa will make a scholar of her student yet, even if she must resort to… deprivation.

Disclaimer: All characters are over eighteen.

‘Pay attention, Miss Sofia Liang,’ said Ms Ishikawa, snapping her fingers. ‘Your academic performance may be disappointing, but it deserves your full attention.’

I was having such a hot daydream about Ishikawa. She was being all severe with me, flicking her ruler at me, ready to paddle me, give me a good ‘tongue-lashing’. In reality, she was just chewing me out about my test scores (‘fail, lazy, obscene doodles, yadda, yadda, yadda’). At least, she had had her top buttons undone. And she had kept waving her hands in front of her cleavage, her rings flashing in the light. Can you blame me for zoning out while she was talking?

Ms Ishikawa pushed a blank test-paper under my nose. ‘One more chance, Miss Liang.’ Ms Ishikawa bent over my desk as she said this, the deep dark of her cleavage—‘This is what I am talking about,’ snapped Ms Ishikawa, doing up her buttons. ‘If you focussed your mind on your studies, rather than your, your… Look, I don’t ask for genius.’ She tapped the test sheet. ‘Right now, get over fifty percent, and I’ll leave you alone.’

She marched back to her desk, swaying her arse in that tight skirt, which, boy, I’d like—Focus! If I fail this test, she’ll probs keep me after class, day after day, teaching me stuff. Maybe I could pop a love-egg in to make detentions bearable, but every detention is a few hours I can’t fuck in. To save my future pussy, I’ll ignore my present pussy!

‘Thirty minutes begins now.’ Ms Ishikawa started her phone’s alarm.

Just when I put pen to paper, the door opened. The girl walking in made me drop my pen and jaw. She was that adorable kind of slutty, with a bounce in her step and a bounce in her tits. Her skirt was so short that when she leant over Ms Ishikawa’s desk, I saw her frilly white panties.

‘Ah, Miss Foster,’ said Ms Ishikawa.

That was Annabelle Foster!? Punk bitch, Annabelle Foster!? She was smiling! Giggling! Hanging on Ishikawa’s words! And, I mean, Annie used to be naughty, but now she was naughty, and dirty, when, actually, she looked the cleanest she’d ever been, so clean I could eat off her body, I could eat her out, or both, like that Japanese thing, I could nibble sushi off her pu-

Foghorns blared from Ishikawa’s phone. She scooped up my paper. Her eyebrows arched.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘you wrote half your name.’

‘I, I was working it out in my head first,’ I said, glancing at Annie. If I could smooth this out with Ishikawa, maybe I could tap Annie in the next hour.

‘Oh, I know what was going on in your head,’ Ishikawa said. We both looked at Annie, who blushed.

‘Can you blame me!?’ I said, waving my hand towards Annie. ‘Look at that shirt, that tight shirt, that skirt, short, short—’ I shook my head. ‘If that sex-kitten hadn’t come in here—’

‘Don’t slut-shame Annabelle.’

‘What do you think you’re doing to me?’ I said. I may have been a slut, but I will not be shamed.

‘My problem is not that you like sex, Miss Liang, but that you like only sex.’ She snapped her fingers and called for Annie. ‘How many doors has this monomania shut to you.’ Ishikawa pushed aside my desk, grabbed my tie, and pulled me to my feet. ‘Distraction. Sex, sex, sex, so not even one plus one can stick in your horny head.’

I was going to tell her that was a lie, but the way her tits pressed against me tied my tongue. Ishikawa flung me into Annie, who grabbed my head and smooched me. I couldn’t resist—why would I resist?—when she shoved her hand up my skirt, under my panties. Annie fingered me, saying nothing, only smiling at me. I tried snogging her again, but she held her hand over my mouth, while she kept working my pussy.

‘When a girl’s phone distracts her,’ said Ishikawa into my ear, ‘I confiscate it. As such—’ She snapped.

Annie pulled out her fingers, and she pulled an orgasm out with her, right out, without me feeling anythin. I’ve had boys and girls get out before the doing was done, but in those cases my horniness took some time to die down. Annie pulled out, and I was sixty to nought in zero seconds flat. My head cleared, at least, to the level of clearness I only got after an orgasm. Annie put something in Ishikawa’s hand, which Ishikawa dropped into a small box.

‘Did, did you tell Annie to finger me?’ I asked. I wasn’t complaining, but I always thought, outside porn, teachers don’t assign student fuck buddies.

‘Well, aren’t you thinking clearly now.’ Ishikawa pushed me down into my chair. She bent over the desk to stare me right in the eyes. And kept staring, for minutes. When I opened my mouth, she said, ‘And, now, you also know what to focus on.’

I ‘huh’—ed. She waved her hand over her cleavage. I looked into it and saw she had no bra on. Gawd! That was… hot? My teacher’s big, braless breasts were hot—that was objective—but I felt cool. Like I was looking at an arm, and not a sexy arm.

‘Is something missing from your phenomenology?’ Ishikawa asked. I ‘huh’—ed again, but she just pointed to Annie.

Wouldn’t Annie be cold dressed like that? No! No, I do not think like my nan. Slutty clothes all year round. If she gets cold, she can fuck for warmth. Yeah, fucking her, fucking her, and, fuck me, this is doing nothing for me.

I asked Ishikawa, ‘Can I see the school nurse?’

‘Don’t worry. Everything about you is intact.’ She put the small box she had before on my desk. She opened it as she spoke, ‘Intact, but not all in the same place.’ She pulled out a ball of chocolate.


She shushed me by pressing the chocolate to my lips. A thousand kisses erupted over me. She rolled the ball around my lips, stirring my pleasure, pushing the ball towards my teeth, till I could almost bite that grenade pin and let it explode—She yanked the chocolate out, and I lost another orgasm. I surreptitiously jilled myself, hoping to get a few sparks flying.

‘Don’t bother, Miss Liang, in my left hand I hold—withhold—your whole Eros.’ She popped the chocolate back in the box.

‘Give it back,’ I said, swiping at the box, which she pulled away. ‘This is, like, a human rights thing.’

She handed the box to Annie. ‘You cannot be trusted with it,’ Ishikawa said. ‘You’re like the rat which killed itself on heroin. I won’t let you squander your future on your pussy.’

‘But, but,’ I said, ‘I need to fuck, because I, I need to fuck.’ What else would I do afterschool?

‘You may have it back,’ Ishikawa said. ‘But like drinks after a hard week’s work, you will have to do a hard week’s work.’ She took a sheet from her folder, my grades sheet. She pointed to the fifth ‘F’. ‘History, your lowest score. This Friday I will give you a history test. If you pass it—that’s a measly fifty percent—I will return to you your libido.’

Four and a half days with my pussy turned off! This was a crisis! When I usually faced a crisis I would jill off to clear my head, or at least cloud my head till it didn’t seem like a crisis. But now the thought of putting my hand there aroused nothing. She’ll give it back on Friday, but till then the world will be empty.

This wasn’t real. That was a ball of chocolate—she’d done something to my head. And if it’s all in my head, then it’s all in my hands. I’ll cum when I want to, even if it takes a bit of work.

* * *

I sent an emergency text to my fuckbuddies. They broke three speed limits to pick me up, and sped me to their place. The bedsit was so small and cold that we had to bunch together—Never a problem.

‘So what’s the problem, Sof?’ said Stacy, shedding her clothes, while Sean locked the door.

Sean kicked off his trousers. ‘Your wand broke?’

‘I never have that problem,’ Stacy giggled. She prodded Sean’s erection like one of those drinking bird office toys.

‘No,’ I said, throwing off my bra. ‘You won’t believe what happened! I…’ I couldn’t open my mouth.

‘You alright,’ said Sean, putting his forehead to mine to take my temperature.

I wanted to explain to them, but whenever I was about to talk about Ishikawa, my mouth stopped. They gazed at me, asked what was wrong. They could always make my heart melt, even if, right now, they couldn’t make my pussy wet.

‘I’ve got anorgasmia.’ It was sorta the truth.

Sean and Stacy slapped their hands over their gasping mouths.

‘I thought that was a myth,’ said Stacy. ‘Oh, gawd, my mum always say if you wank too much you’ll lose all feeling down there.’

‘It’s not that,’ I said.

Sean put his arm around me. ‘Did you get hit on the head?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Look, I can’t tell you why, I just can’t cum, can’t feel anything. Don’t believe me? Try me.’

Sean played with my tits, kissed my neck, while Stacy fingered my pussy. Normally, I’d be mad-horny by now, but I felt only their fingers against me, in me. I sweated, they sweated, but it was like being on a crowded train. Looking at these two going at it, while I had a clear head, they just looked silly, like two chimps prodding a new toy.

‘Ah!’ I yelped.

‘That get you going?’ said Sean.

‘No. You pushed a rib.’ I pulled myself from the threesome. ‘This isn’t working.’

‘I’ve got it!’ Stacy jumped up to my side. ‘If pleasure’s not doing it for you, maybe we need to go all the way in the other direction.’

That was a brilliant idea! Because of Ishikawa I couldn’t feel pleasure, but if I was spanked just right maybe the pain would push me over the edge. Oh, Ishikawa, you picked the wrong nympho to mess with.

* * *

I limped out of Chez Justine et Juliette, smacked, spanked, whipped, hit, kicked, hung, tied, denied, choked—and not a fucking bit wet. My pussy was as dry as my rope burn. I’d gone harder in the playing than I’d ever done before, pushing through pain to the close-by orgasm, which ended up just being a bruise.

Sean slammed the car door, and started driving. ‘Maybe it’s like the hiccups,’ he said, as Stacy pushed me down in the back seat.

‘But I already swallowed while upside down.’ Not water, but still.

‘Surprise!’ said Sean. ‘If you don’t see it coming, you’ll start coming.’

‘But how?’ I asked, just when Stacy yanked off my panties. Smiling, she held up a new pair of panties in one hand, and in the other hand, a remote. She clicked the remote, and the panties buzzed. ‘Oh!’ I’d done this once before, but it was so fun. Trying not to draw attention to yourself while someone sets off a love bomb in your pants—Yummy!

* * *

The next day I wore only those panties. Waiting for them to go off, I couldn’t pay attention in class, but that was normal. Waiting and waiting, they didn’t buzz once at school. Maybe Sean and Stacy had forgotten, or maybe they were out of range, whatever it was, I was expectant and annoyed. I went to a café to calm down.

I took deep breathes of my tea’s scent. My irritation fell, as I no longer expected a shot from the blue into my pussy. The day was orange through the café windows, while shadows crawled up the walls. Losing myself in this image, I thought how odd it was I was lost in the sunlight, rather than the tight-skirted waitress, or the athletic student in the corner. The calm I breathed in from the tea, I’d only ever had the like of it after an orgasm. Why had I never felt this way outside of sex before? I suppose when I wasn’t having sex I was looking for sex.

I took a sip of tea, but my lap buzzed, and I choked. My panties vibrated my peace away. I shifted in my chair, not from arousal. Having vibrating panties with no arousal feels like scratching your throat with your tongue: it should make you feel better, but it’s just unpleasant.

Where were Sean and Stacy? Were they seeing me fidget in my chair? Did they think this was horniness? God, I hope not, or they’d keep this annoying thing buzzing all day. I was about to take them off in the bathroom, but an old lady plopped herself down on the chair opposite me. She had pursed lips, glaring eyes, and a fox around her neck.

‘I know very well your game, girl.’ Her stare stabbed through the table and into my lap. ‘You’re aiming to make a debauched ruckus for the rest of us.’ For emphasis, her voice would pitch up like a posh parrot.

‘I don’t—’ I began, pushing my chair back, but she gripped my wrist.

‘Take me for no fool, girl. I know what you have in your pants.’ She shut her mouth, and let the buzzing of my panties hang between us. ‘I may be seventy-nine, but I was twenty-six in 1964. I may not have had your gadgets, but I know the games young girls play in public. Oh, yes, I thought it was so very titillating when Johnny fingered me during Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, how very funny it was when the audience shushed my moaning. Only now I think of the nuisance I caused!’

Oh, God, other customers were looking. ‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,’ I said, tugging at the grip of this surprisingly strong pensioner.

‘Or did I think of scene I’d cause when I reached into Georges trousers at Uncle Terrence’s funeral?’

I could only cover one ear. It wasn’t easy to ignore a year-by-year list of public indecency. And my panties were still buzzing! Did Sean and Stacy think this would get me going, an old woman’s sweaty palm on my wrist, while she shrieked out sex stories, drawing the eyes of the other customers. Did Sean and Stacy think this was the kind of humiliation I was into? It was a good idea, but no.

‘They’ll tell you, young lady, bonobo chimps masturbate to anything, well, I and Fredrick put the lie to that.’

‘Is everything alright, Miss?’ the waiter looked only at me, three-quarters of his back to the old woman.

‘No, it is not alright,’ said the old woman to the back of the waiter’s head. ‘This sexual deviant has a love egg inserted in her fanny, with aims to make this establishment unfit for families with her squealing orgasms.’ She told everyone to be quiet, so they could hear my buzzing.

To the waiter, I said, ‘My phone’s on silent.’ He was happy to go along with me, and to hold back the old woman.

I slammed the panties into a bin outside. I flicked the V into air just in case Sean and Stacy could see me. But it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t help me. It wasn’t their fault I needed help. Not that I could be helped, I thought, staring at the ground as I headed home.

* * *

Gaaaaawwwwwwwwd! I’d got nothing to do. I flopped to my back on my bedroom floor, rolled around like itchy dog, stuck my arms and legs at angles, just to feel something, even discomfort. On my back, my arm arched over my head, I looked upside down at my DVDs, for a film to watch. Arabian Nights XXX … Humungous Cunnilungus 3… Lesbians in their Natural Habitat. Lolling my neck rightwards I stared into my bookshelf. Hot and Horny in Pemberly… The Once and Future Cuckquean… Finnegans Gape. Video games! No, no, all I had was eroge. I knew I liked sex, but there had to be something here that wasn’t sex. Was Ishikawa right about me? So what if she was? Sex was fun. Even now, when I can’t like sex, I know I like it, I know I want to fuck. Or, at least, I know I want to want to fuck, want to want to masturbate even.

For a long time I stared at something under my desk, which had been kicked against the wall. My mind just began to process that it was a book. The History and Society of the Elizabethans. Why would I buy that? I didn’t give a fuck about the nineteenth-century. It rings a bell, bell, school bell—history class! Ishikawa’s history test was tomorrow.

I pulled the book out. This whole week I’d been looking for the easy way out of Ishikawa’s trick, but I guess this was the only way out. I sighed. Maybe Princess Elizabetha had gotten up to some randy stuff.

* * *

Pacing back and forth in front of me, Ishikawa checked my test. Her high heels clack-clacked, as my history paper flopped at her every step. If I did good or bad, I couldn’t tell from her face, because her lips pursed and eyes glared at my test. She’d make a good domme, never letting me know if I’d get a reward for my work. The only other person in the class room was Annie Foster, sat behind Ishikawa’s desk, still done up like a porno schoolgirl.

Ishikawa slapped my test on my desk. ‘One,’ she said, ‘Mary, Queen of Scots, did not spend her adolescence in Scotland, she spent it in France. Two, you attribute all Francis Walsingham’s actions to John Dee. Three, your speculation as to Queen Elizabeth’s love life is the stuff of costume drama. Four—’ Every red cross she slashed on my test stabbed my hope, till I wondered if life as a nun would be so bad. ‘But otherwise, fifty-nine percent.’

‘Huh!’ I’d zoned out for a bit there. ‘Fifty-nine? P-p-p—’

‘Pass,’ said Ishikawa, drawing a smiley face on my piece. ‘Don’t get swell-headed. It’s impossible to fail these tests if you put in any effort.’

‘You’ll give me back my horniness.’ My heart fluttered, mouth dried, breath grew light. I felt no arousal, but the certainty that I would feel it tickled me.

‘Your libido, yes.’ Ishikawa snapped her fingers. ‘Annabelle.’

Ishikawa stepped aside as Annie leant over my desk, grabbed my tie, pulling me to kiss her. But nothing happened, still nothing, just lip on lip, warm skin to warm skin. Not even her tongue got me going, pushing between my lips, a hot, moist muscle poking and prodding in my mouth. I was about to push her away, when something rolled from her mouth into mine… chocolate.

Oh, God, her lips tasted so good, rubbing against my lips like kindling, her tongue exploring me. I held the back of her neck to keep her in my mouth. I got to my feet, to get the desk out of the way, so I could push my body against hers, my breasts touching hers, my pussy grinding on her. I’d forgotten what this felt like, every cell of my body rolling and tightening, twisting my valves till they burst. Annie wrenched my valves by slipping her hand into my pants. I gasped into her mouth, before thanking her. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank, th-th-thank, THANK YOU!’

I shuddered against her, knees collapsing. She eased me to the ground, where I knelt, forgetting where I was.

‘… for the weekend,’ Ishikawa’s voice pushed into my head, ‘you will retain your libido. Monday morning, however, poof. If you want to cum next weekend, you’ll need to get seventy on next week’s chemistry test.’

Looking up from where I knelt, Ishikawa loomed over me. She sat on her desk, one naked leg crossed over the other, naked legs running up into a short, tight black skirt, hugging her hips and waist, where her white blouse emerged from, wrapping over and around her D-cups. She glared at me over her half-moon glasses, her hair tied back. Before, I knew she could be a domme, but now I felt it. Every tap of her ruler against her palm, I imagined against my arse.

‘Where is your mind going, Miss Sofia Liang?’ asked Ishikawa.

Oh, God, she’d caught me perving. She was going take my horniness away all over again.

‘Will a naughty schoolgirl need a tongue-lashing from her teacher?’ Ishikawa grinned, her glare melting into lidded eyes.

‘Well, Ms Ishikawa,’ I said, playing with my skirt’s hem, ‘I have been having very naughty daydreams.’