The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive


by Captain Dunsel



Bridget was singing along with Lady Gaga as she often did while taking a shower. She didn’t think she was taking a shower at the moment, but she was pretty sure she was in the bathroom. Her voice was echoing beautifully off the tile walls.

“Layyy arounnnnnn… tush myself t’passsss th’tiiiiiiiiiime…”

She giggled at the sound of her own voice because she sounded really, really drunk. And then she remembered that she was really, really drunk. And also, pretty fucking stoned. It was all part of her plan to get Mr. Langford to suck on her tits and fuck her, and it was working like a charm. She had never been so gloriously wasted in her life.

“I’mmmmm reeeelly, reeeelly zzzrumk,” she informed Lady Gaga, vaguely aware that she was drooling all over herself, her own saliva dripping off her stiff nipples. “Ann also preee fugging stoooooooned.”

“Yes you are, baby,” someone said. Bridget tried to open her eyes to see who it was. Her eyes didn’t want to open, but she forced them to open just a little, just enough to see the adorable Asian girl smiling at her. Bridget grinned.

“Yinnnnnnng,” she drawled, recognizing her best friend. “Yinnngy yinnngy winnngy wooo.” She giggled happily at the clever poem she had just crafted.

“I took off your… y’know, your… skirt, baby,” Ying whispered in her ear, “so it doesn’t get… like… messed up while… while I eat your pussy.”

Bridget didn’t really understand what the hell Ying was talking about, but she wasn’t worried about it. She felt too good to be worried about anything.

“Yoooo are… are gonna… gonna feeeed my pussy cat?” Bridget asked, trying to follow her friend’s complex chain of reasoning. Bridget didn’t have a pussy cat. She wanted a doggie, but her landlord Mr. Abboud wouldn’t allow it. Bridget smiled. Maybe if she let Mr. Abboud fuck her doggie style he would let her have a doggie. Or maybe if she gave Mr. Abboud a cute little doggie as a gift he would let her fuck him like a sex-crazed whore. She would like to fuck her landlord Mr. Abboud like a sex-crazed whore because he was a man and she loved fucking men. She loved it more than just about anything in the world, except maybe getting drunk, so drunk that she didn’t even know who she was fucking, and then fucking him, whoever he was, while she got even drunker.

“Not that kinda pussy,” Ying giggled, sliding her hand between Bridget’s plump thighs. “This kinda pussy.” Bridget squealed as Ying slid two fingers up between her moist lady lips and wiggled them.

“Uhhhhnnnnn,” Bridget groaned as Ying started twiddling her fingers more and more rapidly while she thumbed the moist bulge of Bridget’s pink butter bean. Pulses of electric pleasure like she had never known surged through her body. Bridget was too wasted to be entirely sure what was causing it, but she was happy to lose herself in it. She felt Ying nibbling her ear, which added to the surges, and then felt Ying’s tongue sliding across her face, leaving a trail of saliva.

“Suck my nipples,” she heard the Asian girl command throatily. Bridget opened her red, bleary, glazed eyes to see Ying’s naked tits thrust in front of her face. They were light brown with dark brown nipples, cute and round and perfect and Bridget was only too happy to obey Ying’s throaty command.

Bridget sucked sloppily and noisily while Ying cradled her head and moaned and twiddled and thumbed down below. Before long they were both groaning and shivering and building to an orgasm. They were so primed… by the booze, by the weed, and by BoozeMart’s special booster shots… that the climax wasn’t long in coming. And the two were so in synch that it hit them simultaneously, both girls jerking and twitching as the waves of sexual pleasure washed over them like an erotic tsunami.

“Uhhhh… uhhhh… uhhhh” Bridget moaned, her eyes squeezed shut, drooling on Ying’s slobbery tit.

“Fuck-uhhh… fuck-uhh… fuck-uhh,” Ying groaned through a mouthful of Bridget’s copper red hair. The orgasm lasted the better part of a minute… and then they exhaled together… and slumped together… and giggled together as only girlfriends could do.

“Wow,” Bridget said after a while, her face still pressed in Ying’s wet boobs.

“Fuck yeah, wow,” Ying agreed, kissing the top of Bridget’s head.

Bridget started giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Ying asked. The wasted redhead looked up at her not-quite-as-wasted friend and grinned.

“I dome even like girls,” she reminded Ying, her green eyes crossed.

Both girls slid to the floor, giggling. The giggles finally subsided, and they were both content to just sit there, sprawled over each other, legs and arms and bodies intertwined, enjoying the intoxicated afterglow.

“Listen, baby…” Ying said, nestling her head on Bridget’s big tits, which had by now fallen completely out of her too-small brassiere. “…by the time I’m done with… with… you, you… you will love girls.”

Bridget blinked.

“We’re… we’re nod done?” she asked stupidly. She loved being stupid. She definitely had to try and be stupid more often.

“Fuck, no,” Ying declared. “Neither of… neither… neither of us are leaving here until… until… we have had… five orgasms.”

Bridget giggled. That sounded perfect, but she did have obligations. It would not be professional to let her drunken sex interfere with her professional drunken sex duties.

“Nn-kay,” she said, “but… but I haffta gezzzrunk ann give Misher Lammford a blow job in th’Enzymmm… mology Lab.”

Ying blinked.

“Mmmmnnnn… me too,” she said, burying her face in Bridget’s cleavage.