The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sitting on the grass under the shade of the trees, enjoying the feeling of Wendy nuzzling on her neck even as she played with her lover’s hard nipples, Olwena could only be grateful that the campus wasn’t legally allowed to exclude them—unlike almost every public place in town. Olwena really didn’t know how she could survive even an hour without some form of sexual stimulation. It didn’t take much for her to realise that she, and Wendy, had become obsessed, addicted even but she really didn’t care. It was a better way to get through life than drugs, booze or ciggies, and boy did it feel good.

Then she spotted someone creeping along the edge of their sheltering copse. Actually she could see at least a half dozen guys hiding out there perving on them, but the one who caught her attention was the one who was actually just using the trees to sneak across the campus.

“Wendy, honey. Isn’t that Garth?”

“Mmm, maybe,” Wendy muttered without looking up.

“No really, have a look. He looks like he’s hurt.”

Wendy bit the flesh above Olwena’s shoulder just hard enough to leave a mark and glanced up. “Yeah, he does look a bit sore. Perhaps he got a bit bruised playing rugby or something.”

“Poor baby. We could go make him feel better.” Olwena suggested.

“You don’t fancy him more than me, do you? I know you used to have a crush on him.” Wendy teased, both with words and the hand that had slipped up under Olwena’s very short skirt.

“How’d you know that?” Olwena demanded, her face flushing red as she remembered back to the lectures where she had tried to sit near him.

“Everybody knew,” Wendy giggled. “Well, to be fair, I think all the girls knew. Guys can be pretty dense. So are you getting bored with me?”

“No,” Olwena quelled any doubts with a sizzling kiss, “I just think it will be even more fun with a guy as well. Maybe several, although I don’t really like Garth’s mate Josh much.”

“Well then, you know I can’t refuse you anything, little tart. You’ll have to be quick though, he’s almost out of sight.”

Olwena pulled herself free of her lover, leapt to her feet and yelled “Hey!” to attract Garth’s attention. Instead there was an explosion of movement as over a dozen people fled the scene, most shielding their faces to avoid being recognised. By the time the flurry of activity had ended there was no sign of Garth.

“Whoops!”

Wendy laughed at her friend’s confounded expression and put her hand up to clasp her upper thigh. “Since you’ve lost Garth, do you want to go back to what we were doing?”

“No, its no fun doing it in public without people watching. Besides I haven’t given up on Garth yet. I know where he lives ...” Olwena glanced down as she realised what she had just said and moved on to cover herself. “It’s not like I’m a stalker or anything. I just followed him one day. Stop looking at me like that.”

“I’m hurt. You do like him more than me.” Wendy pouted, although with a playful gleam in her eyes.

“Don’t try that on me, you slut. And no I don’t want to fuck right now,” Olwena added as she swatted Wendy’s hand away from her crotch. “Don’t sulk, we just need to go shopping to get something to wear when we go to Garth’s place.”

“Shop where? We’ve been barred from almost every place in town.”

“Not true, there’s one shop that’s always happy to see us.”

Wendy perked up immediately, shopping there was almost as much fun as sex and Olwena obviously had something very kinky in mind.

Hearing the door to the flat opening, Josh diverted his attention away from the gridiron on television just long enough to see that it was Garth. “Yo!” he called out in greeting before putting his full attention back to the exciting display of statistics on the screen.

“Yeah, yo.” Garth replied less enthusiastically as he staggered towards the kitchenette. His whole back felt as thought it had been peeled like a grape and his balls still throbbed from spending time in too small a space with his engorged cock. At least he had got his cd player back, well actually his one had been long gone but the girl had found another one to substitute for it. He didn’t think for one moment that Mz Trimble wouldn’t spot the difference but he figured she cared more about the principle of the matter.

He was almost bowled over by Josh’s mate Brad as the latter emerged from the kitchenette with a freshly chilled six-pack. “Yo, Garth bro, you look like an old woman.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just a bit tender.” Garth replied as good naturedly as he could manage in the circumstances.

“So what’s her name?” Brad bantered back but without hanging around to find out, vaulting over the back of the couch to come crashing down beside Josh, handing him a beer in one fluid movement.

“F-Doll, apparently,” Garth muttered to himself as he raided the fridge for anything cold. Stretching out his arm to reach something at the back of the fridge caused him to wince and unconsciously he fell into his new little mantra to take his mind off the pain. Strange how that one little poem had stuck in his mind.

He had repeated it four times by the time he had made himself a plate of sandwiches, and seeing that Brad and Josh were getting into full buddy-watching-sport mode he retired to his bedroom.

On the couch Brad and Josh had found something even more exciting in the game that the most tackled player in the midwest or the occasional flurries of actual play.

“Oh yeah, them I could handle,” Brad enthused.

“You mean the cheer leaders, or the front ones tits?” Josh fired back with an equally big leer.

“All of them, man. Like I can do multiplayer mode, if you get my drift.”

“Yeah, in your dreams.”

“Naw man, I mean it. Gawd, look at the red head, she’s just flaunting it. Man if I had her here, I’d, like, have her man.”

“Fss, mate, you wouldn’t know how to handle something that hot.” Josh taunted.

“Yeah I would, first I’d gently brush her cheek—like this,” Brad said, running the back of his hand softly across the side of Josh’s face.

“Uh huh, and then I bet you think she’d do something like stroke your manly chest,” Josh responded doing just that. Brad was certainly toned, he thought to himself, all those weights paid off.

“Something like that. Then I’d squeeze her thigh.” You could tell Josh was a runner, Brad though as he fingered the firm upper leg flesh.

“And you think by this stage she’d be so hot that she’d just fall into your arms and start kissing,” Josh whispered as he slid over into Brad’s lap, put an arm around his neck and brought their faces close together. Brad didn’t say anything this time, there wasn’t any need as their lips met. Josh wiggled his bum over Brad’s hard cock and his friend reciprocated by gently kneading his crotch.

Mz Trimble moved with quiet grace between the shelves pushing the trolley with its load of books. Her calm demeanour was an effort, what with the finger vibrator up her ass buzzing away and the weighted clamp that Carol had attached to her clitoris that morning. Outwardly though she was the model of decorum, her tight thigh length tweed skirt, matching tailored jacket and high necked blouse, formal even by her standards but she had a meeting with the board of trustees after lunch.

As she returned books to the shelves, occasionally tut-tutting as she found one out of place, she ran through an inventory in her mind to make sure that she had everything prepared for the meeting. Mrs Johnston liked to have whipped cream and jam smeared over her breasts and in one of those happy coincidences the secretary Mr Blainet liked both the application and the licking it off afterwards. Ms Toonks the treasurer got her kicks out of being diapered but brought her own. And Liam the student representative, he still tried to assert he didn’t have any real preferences and just wanted to watch but Mz Trimble had other ideas. Perhaps she’d have Ms Toonks sit on his face, diapers and all.

The next book on the trolley was from the top shelf and Mz Trimble pulled up the step ladder and ascended. She was fully aware that to do so she was causing her skirt to hike up and reveal her stocking tops, she just hoped enough people were watching to make it worth the effort.

“Um, Mz Trimble?” a timid voice came from nearby. The librarian looked down to see a nervous girl and instantly knew that part of the girl’s nervousness was due to her no longer being a student, something she knew because she recognised the girl.

“Brenda, isn’t it?” Mz Trimble asked rhetorically.

“Ye-ss,” Prissy stammered in reply, it had been so long since anyone had called her by her given name. She wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that the librarian remembered her.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Mz Trimble inquired as she descended the steps to be level with the girl. Normally she would have been a bit less lax about library privileges for non-students but the girl was dressed in such a lovely skin-tight red satin dress that she relented.

Prissy steeled herself and then let it all out in one go before she lost her nerve. “I’ve got this book that I’ve been reading to the gang and we all really like it, even the bits we don’t understand. But its getting near the end and I’ve found some words that I can’t figure out how to say. I was hoping you could sound them out for me.”

Mz Trimble regarded her with what she approximated to being a friendly smile. “Certainly. Could I see the text that you are having difficulty pronouncing?”

Her hand almost steady, Prissy reached into her handbag and pulled out the dog-eared coverless book, presenting it to the librarian. Mz Trimble was only slightly surprised to recognise the book and hid it well enough that Prissy was unaware that had been a previous owner.

“It’s near the back,” Prissy stated helpfully as Mz Trimble leafed through the familiar pages. “There!” she said jabbing a finger in as the right page came up.

“I don’t remember this passage,” Mz Trimble said quietly.

“Yeah, the pages were stuck together, so ...” Prissy went silent as she recognised the implications of what the librarian had just said. Mz Trimble didn’t let it worry her one way or the other as she led the girl away to a less occupied area of the library so that she could speak above a whisper.

“Hmm, yes, I see now—some oily, smelly substance. Its dreadful the way some people treat their books. Now—let’s see—its not Latin, its something older I suspect. I think I see a pattern in it, however. I believe it would go something like this.”

And Mz Trimble began to speak, her voice unconsciously growing louder as the sounds came out. Strange sounds, sounds not heard in thousands of years. Frightening sounds, Prissy found herself sweating, shaking with some unknown dread. Insane sounds that brought all activity in the library to a halt. Sounds that had an underlying feeling of insects crawling over your body as it rotted in the grave. And still Mz Trimble read on, bound to finish those last lines of the book.

A rumbling came from below her feet, the air became hotter with a nauseating stench creeping up as yellowish tendrils from cracks forming in the floor. The ground moved again and Prissy screamed in terror, a panic began to spread through the rest of the library. A panicked stampede towards the exits was just about to happen when the ground gave one last heave and the floor splintered around the cracks.

Flames and dark crackling clouds of smoke billowed from the hole, then a moment of surreal silence before a new sound was heard, the sound of laughter without any humour. Prissy turned to flee and stumbled over her high heels. Mz Trimble took a step back as the gargantuan figure emerged from the hole sheathed in flames.

“At last!” it bellowed, “At last! The final corruption has occurred. You have no will left to resist me!”