The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Seven Girls

By Mr. Scade

They all were rhythmically gliding through the water, each at her own pace; their arms pulling their bodies forward and their legs systematically moving up and down, pushing their bodies with a torpedo-like fashion. The midday sun shone on their wet and glistening backs; on their toned and long legs and arms; and, when the need to breath arises and they resurface, on their perfect, goggle-wearing faces.

They were six beautiful girls swimming, each in one individual lane of the divided pool, caring not for anything but their performance. All dressed the same, they were. They had to. They are apart of team, and teams wear uniforms. Theirs was a single one piece, competitive swimsuit of a deep blue colour, with two red, vertical stripes that ran from under the armpits, down the sides until they reached the tights, and then moved inwards and met at the crotch. Theirs backs were bare except for a piece of the swimsuit that ran from their bottoms up to their upper back and then transformed into two shoulder straps. There were two other items; one was a latex swim cap of red colour, interrupted just where a spiral design rested at the sides; and a pair of protective goggles.

These six beautiful girls were all under the care and command of another woman – a coach – with long, brown hair; wide shoulders strengthened by years of swimming; long and slender legs; and toned arms with enough muscle to look powerful, but not so much as to look unfeminine. This coach was dressed just like her pupils, minus the swim-cap and goggles.

A seventh girl of pretty face and shy demeanour watched all of these seven, water-loving beauties with interest and intent; Kila was her name and she sat on a plastic chair by the pool, her body covered by a black, zip-back one piece swimsuit with a high neck and tight fit, drops of pool water dribbling down her legs. She was the only person, except for the coach and one man walking towards the showers, out of the pool; though her reasons to stay away from the liquid were more of shy respect and admiration for the eight girls and their coach than anything else.

Kila, the girl of the short, red hair, had a passion for swimming; she loved how the water felt against her skin as she glided on the liquid and she found solace in the constant physical work-out. But Kila wanted it to be more than a passion; she wanted it to be her profession – her sole purpose in life.

Kila longed to be the seventh girl swimming in that pool, alongside the six girls dressed in blue and red. She tried to be one, some time ago, when the team had a different coach and no uniform to speak of, but had been rejected; she was told she lacked fitness and finesse. She was devastated but not defeated. Since then, Kila trained and swam, day in, day out, harder and harder, so that one day she would be part of that team.

A dark cloud cast a shadow over the pool, the temperature dropped, and the southern wind began to blow. Kila looked up and saw the outline of the sun behind a grey cloud ripe with rain; she decided that it was prudent to leave soon before the imminent rainfall began.

Kila collected her belongings, a blue backpack and a beige towel, and walked towards the dressing rooms to the far end of a building adjacent to the pool. Kila, not the kind of person to pay attention to those around her, had been so concentrated on her departure that she did not notice the coach closely and hungrily inspecting her hip’s sway as she walked away.

While Kila dried her body and took off her swimsuit, the coach-lady licked her lips while gazing towards the cloud-hidden sun, and called the six swimming girls to a halt. The swimsuit-clad girls automatically stopped swimming and floated on their spots, quizzical smirks on their goggled faces – they looked just like scattered marbles.

“It’s going to rain.” The coach said, nodding towards the sky.

The six girls looked up, stared at the grey clouds, and mindlessly nodded before swimming towards the western border of the pool. They all, at the same time, laid their hands on the cold pool tiles and raised themselves out of the water in unison as if synchronized. They stood there, their bodies unmoving and impervious to the lowering temperature and cool winds; they didn’t speak, they didn’t blink – not that you could’ve been able to see their blank eyes behind their goggles – they only stared at their coach with a smile on their faces.

“Come on, girls,” The coach said, beckoning the girls to follow her, “Let’s move on and change out of our suits.”

“Yes, Miss Jen,” The six swimsuit-clad swimmers nodded, their soulless smiles not abandoning their faces, as they began to walk towards some plastic chairs where many a similar bag lay.

Just as the six girls waked through the tile-framed door and into the changing rooms, Kila walked out, now dressed in a red polo shirt and shorts and with her orange bag hanging from a shoulder; she simply averted her gaze from the marching object of her respect and all but ran away from the premises. And, just like Kila, but for entirely different reasons, none of the six girls dressed in blue noticed the shy, nervous girl passing them by. None but one of the last girls to walk into the changing room; she was of fair and strong build, tan and thin and with cinnamon skin; her face was round, with a small perky nose and slanted eyes of a black colour, and with lips of the deepest scarlet – truly a foreign beauty. This girl simply stared, though never breaking her stride, at Kila with her vacant, expressionless eyes and with a smile expressing both desire and curiosity.

Kila, being herself, did not notice the attention she was receiving and escaped the almost unstaring and silent procession of those she admired most. She walked away from the pool, across a small fence-like door, downside a small hill, and towards her house.

The coach, oblivious to the unauthorized actions of one of her pupils, had just finished picking up her belongings and collecting her training items when she saw the young, shy Kila escaping, and licked her lips just like a Mistress does when her slave pleases her.

---0 ---

Kila has many interests indeed, but there are only two that share a special corner in her heart: swimming and reading. For the second was she now inside her very special and favourite bookstore, Mightier Than a Gun; a place that always had a selection fit for her tastes.

A little over an hour had passes since she started walking between the many shelves of Mightier Than a Gun, and quite a time since she started rummaging the many books that were in these shelves. Kila already had a selection, two novels and a short stories collection, and was just idly browsing the shelves for even more reading material – mostly magazines and comics – before she finally decided it was time to leave the premises. She collected her soon-to-be new books and slowly walked towards the cashier.

Kila was friends, or at was at least on good terms with all of the working force of Mightier Than a Gun, and thus knew the face of every single employee the place had. So it was to expect the surprised look that took over her face when she saw, sitting behind the cash register, an unknown, dark-skinned visage idly reading a magazine.

Kila indeed was a shy and nervous creature when dealing with the world in general, especially other humans; but if there was one place that was able to shift that secluded scared-child-personality into a friendlier and more talkative one was the comfortable familiarity of the hall of Mightier Than a Gun. Such was the effect of the place on Kila that she felt the need to become acquainted with this stranger.

“Hello,” Kila started as she set her new books next to the girl.

The girl of cinnamon skin slowly raised her head and met Kila’s eyes, her eyes gleaming with recognition and suppressed joy. “Hey!” The girl said quite happily, her boring demeanour suddenly cheerful, “It’s you. The redhead from the pool.”

Kila stared at the dark-skinned girl with confusion and utter surprise on her eyes. To Kila it was clear that this new face was not much of a stranger, but she still couldn’t figure out how and why this girl recognized her. But how could she, if Kila, due to shyness and admiration, has never directly gazed upon any of the six swimming girls’ faces?

Kila stared at the black girl with slanted eyes and very short black hair.

She did not recognized her; but how could Kila recognize her if Kila never, due to shyness and admiration, never gazed at any of the swimming girls’ faces.

“Hmmm,” Kila echoed, as she tried to figure out many things at once, “Have we met?” She then said with a smirk on her face and with her hands.

“You go to the same pool as I, every two days,” The girl said, staring dreamingly at Kila, one of her hands pointing diagonally outwards the store, “You are always swimming when we show up, and you always get out of the pool when we go in.”

“Wait!” Kila said with that distinctive tone of having just realized something, “You are one of the… swim team… girls.” Kila’s shyness and admiration threatened to break her cheerful and confident mood.

“Oh! Yes I am!” The girl said loudly with a smile of absolute bliss upon her face, “Eh, sorry” She then added, realizing just how inappropriately loud she just had been, her gaze averted, “The name’s Lara, by the way; what’s yours?” Lara asked and invitingly extended her right arm towards Kila.

“Kila. Kila Fleur,” Kila answered, clasping Lara’s hand with her own, “Nice meeting you.”

“So, you now work here?” Kila said with honest curiosity as their hands unclasped.

“Oh, yes,” Lara happily said, “Some woman…” A pause. A dreamy smile crawled upon her face, “I know got me this job.”

“Lucky you,” Kila said almost in a whisper as she brushed a stray, red hair from her face.

A short, awkward silence fell upon the two before Lara remembered what her job’s procedures were.

“Are you a regular?” Lara asked as she started her cashier duties, grabbing one of the books and passing it over the red-lighted scanner.

“I come in once or thrice a week,” Kila said, her hands on the wooden counter and her eyes closely watching Lara’s movements, “I really like to read.”

“A reader and a swimmer,” Lara said with glee, “That makes you an interesting person, you know.”

“You think so?” Kila said as her sight diverted to the price shown on the cash register.

“Of course,” Lara said, smiling reassuringly, “It makes you so interesting that I am going to ask you if you’d like to go and hang out for a while when my shift is over, if you want.”

“Well, I really don’t have anything planned for the evening,” Kila said as she paid for her new books, “And I’ve been meaning to meet new people.”

“Is that a yes?” Lara asked, her head turned towards the cash register, “That will be sixteen ninety-nine.”

Kila took out some money out off her grey wallet and handed it to Lara. “Yes,” She then said, “What do you have in mind?”

Lara’s expertise as a cashier allowed her to work with dexterity at the same time as she talked with her soon-to-be friend, “I am thinking a movie,” She said as she gave Kila a plastic bag with the Mightier Than a Gun crest filled with her books.

“I am in,” Kila smiled, her ears slightly moving upwards on par with the smile.

“Ok, meet you at the food court in front of the theatre down the road in about an hour, ok?” Lara said with such a warm smile placed upon her fiery red lips that any bloodsucking creature would crave to kiss them.

“I’ll be there.” Kila said as she smiled back.

Kila then turned and walked with a confident stride out of the bookstore. Lara, in turn, was left almost alone in the store, her heart racing – overexcited. Lara was full of a unique happiness, for she had, finally, been able to properly converse with the girl she had been mesmerized by. Lara had, for many days since first she laid her eyes on Kila, wished and longed to speak with the latter; but it was regrettable that every time the two crossed paths Lara was dressed in her swimsuit-uniform and under the command of Miss Jen – unable to do much without the latter’s explicit orders.

Suddenly Lara felt confusion wash over her; she felt true happiness at finally meeting the girl that had recently occupied most of her daydreaming, and, at the same time, felt many equally beautiful things, though some forced, for her Coach and the uniform she was always wearing. Lara wanted to be with her new acquaintance and yet be by the side of her Coach and her fellow team-mates. And it was this pondering and self questioning that led Lara to make a decision not entirely her own that she believed will allow her to keep this novel happiness on par with everything her Coach made her feel.

Lara smiled on the inside, relaxed her whole body, and closed her eyes – a real-life fantasy film played inside her head. She stood like this, interrupted only by two costumers, until her shift was finite.

* * *

Right in front of the movie theatre that Lara had mentioned was a good couple of restaurants and cafés and other such places where one could get a good meal; and it was in front of one of those outdoor restaurants that Kila lazily ate a cheesecake and waited for her new acquaintance Lara to appear.

Kila was, in-between bites, thinking on how great a coincidence was that she had met one of the girls she so admired in the only place where her fear for other human beings was null. Maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was just a random occurrence and her chance to kill two birds with one polished stone; but whatever that meeting was, she could and was going to take advantage of it. That if she was able to retain the friendly, easy-going personality outside the walls of Mightier Than a Gun.

Kila began to fantasize and daydream just like a prophet or any person who wishes for more in matters of personalities; but her little fantasy was interrupted when she heard her name being called by a newly familiar voice. She turned around, smiled, and waved at Lara, who was looking about for her fiery red-crowned head. Soon Lara sat in front of Kila and stared down at the almost finished cheesecake.

“Want some?” Kila said, pointing at the delicious sweet with her tongue-cleaned spoon.

“No thanks,” Lara said politely, “I have to watch my weight.” She tapped her belly, three slap-sounds echoed.

“I really wouldn’t mind about that,” Kila commented, one spoonful of cheesecake going into her mouth, “I mean: With the cheer amount of time you spend swimming one cheesecake won’t even affect you.”

Lara smiled, “That is quite true, actually,” She said as she rested her black-haired, cinnamon-coloured head on her right hand, “But orders from the Coach: We can’t eat anything sweet +‘till further notice.”+

“That coach sounds like a humongous control freak,” Kila responded, feigning extreme pleasure at eating the cheesecake as to tempt Lara. Lara did not even acknowledged it.

“She kind of is,” Lara said with a dreamy expression upon her face, “But she is a good coach. She was the one to make us the champions we are, and if going along with the missing marbles she has is the price to pay, I am eager to.”

Kila stared at Lara, another spoonful of cheesecake going into her mouth, +‘That is mighty strange.’+ She thought.

“I mean: she is sweet and kind and loving,” A pause, “Yet strict, stern and demanding. She conveys obedience and trust – the perfect coach.”

“Oh! Ok, I believe you.” Kila said softly, “Say, weren’t we going to do something in there?” She pointed with her thumb towards the movie theatre behind her.

“Oh, right…” Lara responded as if snapping out of a trance, “So-sorry. It happens sometimes.” She paused and rubbed her eyes, “Let us go, then.” She stood up, slowly.

Kila placed her clean spoon on the empty plate and also raised herself off the wooden chair.

“Oh, move on!” Lara said playfully, suddenly grabbing Kila’s wrist, hurrying the latter to follow her.

“Hey!” Kila said merrily as she stumbled to her feet and tried to follow the too quick Lara, “Careful!”

And, as she walked with her new friend, Kila was able to realize that, for the first time in many years, she was able to break her protective and shy crust of antisocial behaviour and be that intrepid girl that visited Mightier Than a Gun outside Mightier Than a Gun. Kila was feeling prideful.

* * *

Kila and Lara had really enjoyed each other’s company during the afternoon. They spent most of the time idly chatting to each other about this and that – things they both enjoyed – about the movie they had watched, about their passions for swimming and reading… Well, they talked about many things and they both reached the conclusion that they were just perfect matches and ripe for a friendship.

The evening befell upon them and so they had to part ways. Kila and Lara promised, after establishing their need to meet each other, to meet in one week’s time at Mightier Than a Gun, seeing how difficult it was for Lara to do anything but swimming when in the pool, and how hard it was for Kila to talk to the girls whenever they wore their swimsuit-uniforms – though Kila did not confess this.

Kila arrived home – her cosy flat – an hour later, and simply thought, with her stomach still food-stuffed, to relax and start reading one of the books she acquired today. But first, she decided, it was prudent to change into a more homely attire, so Kila, instead of going to her hammock, went to her room and started to get undressed.

As she rummaged her drawers and closet for an attire fit for a lazy afternoon, Kila saw, neatly folded in a corner of one drawer, one of her swimsuits, a pink one that covered her whole back and front up to her neck. It made her think of Lara and the swim-team she wished to join. It made her think that if she was able to be so familiar with Lara outside Mightier Than a Gun, then it was possible to be like that with everyone.

There and then Kila decided, with happiness and resolve, to finally get rid of the fear-stained and shyness-painted personality she was cursed with, and fully embrace the irksome occurrence of her other personality.

Kila dressed in a t-shirt and shorts – her laze-about clothes – collected the items she needed for a nice, relaxing reading session; and walked towards an open balcony with a majestic view to a contrasting view of beautiful green on a grey landscape; on the centre of the balcony, protected from dying sunlight, was a multicoloured hammock. She sat on the latter, made herself comfortable and began reading.

* * *

A mermaid she could be compared to, beautiful glides through the water she performed, with graceful movements that spoke of a mind in a perpetual state of peace and joy. She was dressed in dark green – a swimsuit that covered both her back and front and hugged her as if a second skin, from neck to crotch – and red she wore on her head – a swimcap that kept her equally red hair safe from the water’s harmful agents.

Kila was well into a thirtieth lap when the corner of her eye caught a procession of human-like figures moving at one side of the pool. She dismissed them as any other person and kept swimming until she reached the mystic number of the fiftieth lap – a number she had worked so hard to attain without ever ceasing her arms’ strokes.

Tired and full of accomplishment-induced happiness, Kila rested her body and arms on the pool’s border, lazily staring at nothing in particular, her legs idly moving underwater. She was considering continuing swimming when she saw, walking out of the changing rooms, the six swimmer-girls, dressed in their blue swimsuits and red swimcaps, led by their imposing coach.

Kila felt her insides clench as her usual mix of fear and admiration took a hold of her. She wanted to quickly get out of the water and get as far away from the girls as possible; but her resolve was just stronger than her fear, and she simply remained in her spot. Kila saw, through her piercing eyes, the six girls as they walked with a robotically stride and empty expressions, hidden behind a pair of goggles, on their faces.

Kila found the walking, if not the expression on their faces, to be mighty weird.

The coach – Miss Jen, as her swimsuit-clad pupils called her – was both amazed and happy at the sight of the usually shy girl in the pool instead of her usual spot on one of the many plastic chairs scattered around the pool.

The group of experienced and beautiful swimmers walked towards a corner where many a plastic chair and table were scattered about; they placed their belongings on the plastic furniture. The six girls then turned around, all at the same time, and faced Miss Jen, waiting for further instructions.

“Stretch,” Miss Jen commanded, her stare idly resting on the girls’ suits, “Then dive and swim fifty laps – crawl style.”

“Yes, Miss Jen.” The six girls said in creepy unison before they walked along the width of the pool – opposite to where Kila was resting – and started stretching.

Kila found herself wondering on how was it possible that a group of six young girls who, as she thought, were very close didn’t even speak to each other in such a situation. She saw them stretch as commanded, none paying attention to nothing in particular, with empty smiles on their faces. Pleasure-filled smiles, Kila thought.

Kila, still pondering the actions of the girls before her, saw the coach walking towards her with a slow yet sexy stride. She was dressed in a swimsuit just like Kila’s, protective of both her front and her back, but in a shade of blue similar to her pupils’.

Kila found her sight drawn towards this woman’s swimsuit, so very tight and so very shiny – gorgeous, she thought. Kila heard the sound of human bodies smoothly and swiftly diving into water, as she realized that it was impossible for her not to look at the coach. She was, for the first time in her life, truly mesmerized.

Miss Jen walked closer and closer, slowly and sexily, her body language inviting Kila to drink from her majestic image. Kila inspected, with increasingly hungry eyes, the coach; she gazed upon the latter’s long and strong legs, powerful enough to propel her body through miles of water; appreciated her slender and powerful arms, muscular yet feminine, attached to wide, sunburnt shoulders; and rested her eyes upon Miss Jen’s ample and toned bosom, just above a navel worth of a Roman sculpture. Kila was, as previously stated, completely mesmerized by the coach and the suit she was wearing.

Kila was so lost in thought that she was actually surprised when she saw the coach crouch inches away from her. Miss Jen’s knees where just inches away from Kila’s face, her legs were slightly open, positioned in such a way that they framed Kila’s head, if seen from a certain angle. Kila’s eyes fell between Miss Jen’s legs, the swimsuit hugged her crotch passionately, and then moved upwards, slowly, past her straining breasts, and finally rested on Miss Jen’s round face.

“He-Hello,” Kila stuttered, “C-can I help you?”

“Yes you can, Kila,” Miss Jen said softly, her eyes staring right into Kila’s. Kila blushed.

Kila stared at the coach with awe and fear in her eyes; surprised and confused as to how this gorgeous woman knew her name, was she. She felt strange; her mind was screaming at her to run away, but instead Kila found herself staring at the beautiful woman’s swimsuit, closely inspecting its design, “How... How did you know my name?”

“Lara, told me about you” Miss Jen said pointing towards one of the indistinguishable figures in the water, “She said you wanted to join the team.”

“I… Well…” Kila tried to say, her words stumbling and her resolve weakened by the woman’s very presence, “I do.” She managed to say after a long pause.

“Hmm…” The black-haired coach said as she sat on the edge of the pool, next to Kila, her legs softly entering the water, “Sit next to me so we can converse.”

“O-Okay,” Kila whispered as she clumsily, as if she had never done it before, raised herself out of the pool and rested her bottom on the cold tiles.

A cold breeze was blowing, the late noon sunlight shone on Kila’s and Miss Jen’s swimsuits, and the collective sound of six girls swimming echoed from the enclosing walls around the pool.

“Do you really want to join them?” The coach said, pointing towards not a girl in particular.

“Yes I would,” Kila said, averting her gaze from the coach’s swimsuit and onto any of the six girls.

“Would you be dedicated enough to train everyday?” The coach kept questioning, her hand now idly resting on her bosom.

“Of course,” Kila said, her eyes following a girl she thought was Lara, “I come here almost everyday already.”

“Almost is not enough,” The coach said as her hand slowly drew figures on her suit, her faces focused on one girl, “You have to be fully committed to +my+ team; you’ll have to train two times per day, every day! You’ll have to be loyal and dedicated!”

“Of course,” Kila reiterated, her eyes now following the figures drawn on the woman’s bosom, “I-I will… come here everyday.”

“Good.” The coach said, “You really want to be a part of +my team+, right?”

“Yes!” Kila suddenly cried with joy, her face immediately turned towards the coach, “I’ve bee trying to be a member of the team since it was first formed!”

“Really?” The coach said playfully, her left hand behind her, supporting her weight, “Why hadn’t you been accepted, then?”

“He—The previous coach said I wasn’t good enough,” Kila said, her face filled with the sadness of a depressing memory, “Said I lacked skill.”

“Hmm…” The coach hummed, her right hand now drawing circles on her belly, “Times have changed, dear. Besides, you are a terrific swimmer – excellent, actually.”

Kila’s face lightened up with joy and embarrassment, “You serious?” She said, her voice filled with utter happiness, her eyes resting on the circles the coach drew.

“Of course I am!” The coach said as she threw her body forward and then leaned closer to Kila, “I would like to see how you perform in the water,” The coach whispered on Kila’s ear, “Hop in the water, dear.”

Kila’s body relaxed, a mindless expression came over her face, “Yes.” She whispered before she jumped back into the water, a vertical splash hiding her face for a second.

The coach placed her hands behind her bottom, inches apart from each other, and reclined her weight on them, “Ten laps,” She said to Kila, “I want to see what you really can do!”

Kila did as told and dived underwater, swimming with majestic strokes towards one of the empty lanes in the pool, and came out, gasping for air, as her hand touched the tiles on the pool’s wall. She saw the coach still drawing circles on her swimsuit, staring at her with hungry eyes, and felt something tingle inside of her, “Go on,” The coach beckoned and Kila immediately started swimming.

She glided through the water with the grace of a dolphin and with the sporting skill of an Olympic swimmer. Kila’s technique was perfect, her movements sublime, her head moved on par with her arms’ stride – her two-year long hard work was bearing its fruits.

Miss Jen simply stared at the shine of Kila’s swimsuit; she concentrated on how the material, with the water’s help, reflected sunlight in a mesmerizing way. The coach was now drawing circles around the proximity of her crotch; idly teasing her sex while her mind thought of many an arousing idea. She moaned out loud as her fingers brushed the edges of her swimsuit-covered sex.

Meanwhile, Kila found herself feeling better than ever before; she felt pride for the praise of the coach; she felt the ecstasy of anticipation, for she was finally going to join the team; and she felt the streams of water moving under her arms and belly, caressing her skin and swimsuit; and it was all of these sensations combined that made Kila feel, probably for the first time in her life, bliss.

Kila finished swimming the ten laps; she stopped as her hand touched the wall she first used to propel herself forwards. Kila had a smile on her face, her eyes were red due to the pool’s water, and her breathing was coming in-between pants.

“Good job!” Kila heard the coach said as she turned around and saw, sitting in the same spot, the blue-dressed beauty slowly rubbing her sex through her blue swimsuit.

Kila’s eyes widened, her jaw slacked; she was aghast. She could not believe the sight of the beautiful woman eagerly masturbating in plain daylight. The sound of six girls swimming still echoed around as Kila, not really controlling her movements, swam with a mindless expression on her face towards the coach.

“Sorry,” The coach said once Kila was just in front of her, “I couldn’t control it. It just feels so good.”

Kila felt herself drawn to the movements the coach’s hand performed on her sex.

“Have you ever tried this?” The coach moaned, her other rubbing the rest of her suit.

Kila licked her lips, “N-No,” Kila whispered, her eyes deeply concentrated on the action before her.

“Oh! You are missing something,” The coach cheered, “Swimsuit masturbation is the best there is. You +have+ to try it.”

“I…” Kila trailed off.

“Don’t be shy, Kila.” The coach moaned, one hand rubbing her ample bosom through her swimsuit, “Just +try it+, when you are at home. Just +put+ on your swimsuit and +please yourself+. It’s +easy+ and +delicious+.”

“Yes,” Kila softly said, nodding in agreement, “I will try it.”

“Swimsuits are so +erotic+!” The coach then added, “They make me +horny+ just by +touching+ them.”

“They are…” Kila found herself agreeing, "Sexy."

The coach smiled both an evil smile and a pleasure-saturated smile. She stared at Kila, eyeing her shiny swimcap and her tight swimsuit, and pondered what to do next, the sound of six girls swimming acting as background music. She rubbed even faster.

“Kiss – hhhmmm” She moaned, “Hmmm – Kiss it,” She commanded, pushing her hips in Kila’s direction.

Kila stared at the coach’s blue-encased swimsuit and mindlessly licked her lips as if preparing for a kiss. Kila then, slowly yet painfully, averted her gaze from the coach’s sex and move her towards the coach’s face and stared right into her eyes with a confused and helpless stare.

“Hmmm – Go ahead,” Miss Jen groaned as she moved her groin inches away from Kila’s lips, “Kiss it!”

Kila immediately gazed back towards the coach’s sex, her body unresponding to her blank mind; her whole self strangely controlled by the woman before her.

Kila leaned closer to the coach’s sex, her rips parting and preparing for a kiss, her tongue idly licking the edges of her lips. Skin met synthetic fabric. Kila involuntarily wrapped her lips around the coach’s encased sex and sucked on it – a short, passionate kiss – and then released them.

The coach moaned out loud, her hips buckled and her legs trembled. Kila’s deep passionate kiss sent the first into a fit of orgasm-induced spasms. The coach felt her whole body tense up, then relax; she felt her mind go numb for a second, overcharged by a torrent of bliss and pleasure, then return.

After some seconds, Miss Jen recovered her senses and stood up, her legs were still weak from the experience and her hand could not stop brushing her sex.

“Follow me,” Miss Jen said, calling forth the mindless Kila.

“Yes,” Kila said as she pulled herself out of the water and proceeded to walk towards the coach.

Kila followed the coach towards where the latter had laid her belongings; with every step, Kila felt her consciousness returning.

“You passed the test,” The coach said as she rummaged inside a yellow bag with a red, circular logo on it.

“Re-Really!” Kila said, her hands flying towards her face, her body shivering with joy, and her conscious mind returning, “T-That means that I…”

“Yes,” The coach said as she pulled a collective of items out of the bag, “You are part of my team now.”

The coach handed Kila a swimsuit similar to the one the six girls wore, blue with red stripes and thin shoulder straps; a red, latex swimcap with a spiral design on one side; and a second swimsuit of shiny, wet-look, white colour. This second swimsuit had the same logo that rested on the coach’s bag stamped on its latex-like material. Kila took the items with reverence.

“The second one is our competition uniform,” The coach said, “The other one is for training and… Well, you’ll figure that out.”

“Thank you,” Kila said softly, her voice filled with joy and her eyes soon to water, not really catching the coach’s comment, “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it,” The coach said, “You are an excellent swimmer and would be a perfect addition to my team,” The coach walked towards the edge of the pool and stared at her girls, “With you in my team, we will go far and wide.”

Kila blushed and ducked her head from the compliments, “I am not that good!”

“Yes you are,” The coach said, her head turned towards Kila, “You are the best swimmer I’ve seen in a while.”

Kila simply smiled, turned and began to fold her new.

“Why don’t you go back home for the day,” The coach said, “You must be tired from all the swimming and joy.”

“Yes,” Kila said, “I feel tired, actually.”

“Well, there you go,” The coach said, “Now, go home.”

Kila nodded as she walked towards where her belongings where. She placed her new swimsuits inside her black bag and then walked towards the changing rooms. There she took off her dark green swimsuit and removed her red cap from her head; she felt a cool breeze brush her naked body and she shivered. Kila showered the chlorine off of her body and then towelled her body.

Kila began dressing up in her usual attire – jeans and a t-shirt – when a naughty thought appeared in her head. She though on what the coach said about masturbating in a swimsuit, and she though about the uniform she had just received. She took her new swimsuit, the blue one, and stared at it, her fingers rubbing the material.

A tingle ran down her hand and into her body. Kila felt a suddenly rush of arousal run down her body, flare on her nipples and sex. Kila’s eyes widened, her hands stopped caressing the material, as she questioned the origin of such feelings.

Erotic and arousing, she found the swimsuit to be. Kila picked it up again, and held it against her naked flesh; a moan escaped her lips as she found herself rubbing the material against her sensitive nipples and hungry sex.

“Hmm,” She moaned, “That really is good!”

A smile crawled upon her face as a bright idea crept inside her mind. Kila quickly slid her legs into the swimsuit and pulled it up, feeling the material slide up her skin. Kila moaned again.

The swimsuit was tight, tighter than most she had ever wore, but not uncomfortable. It hugged her frame like nothing ever did before, and it aroused her like no one ever did before. She rubbed the suit; her hands avoiding her now erect nipples and her increasingly sensitive sex, feeling every inch of her uniform.

“This is just perfect,” Kila said as she stared at her image in a mirror.

Suddenly stopping rubbing her blue-encased body, Kila contained her arousal. She continued dressing, putting on a jean and a lazy t-shirt over the swimsuit. Kila rejoiced at just how good it felt the brushing of her t-shirt over her swimsuit-clad torso, and how curious the waistband felt against the tight material.

Kila slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops and finished up picking up both her new and old belonging. She walked out of the changing rooms, and was greeted by the sight of the six girls, dripping wet, out of the water and performing some exercises. Kila blushed, diverted her gaze, and began to walk towards the exit as fast as she could. Every movement reminded her of the swimsuit she wore underneath, and every movement rubbed the swimsuit against her sex and nipples. Kila was starting to feel extremely aroused.

“Hey, Kila!” The coach called, her left arm waving, a devious smile on her face.

Kila turned stopped walking, embarrassment filling her pounding hear, and turned around, her face shy and her eyes unfocused.

“By the by!” The coach yelled “Meet me here tomorrow morning so we can further discuss the terms of joining the team, alright?”

Kila nodded, her breathing suddenly becoming muffled and repressed moans, turned around and kept on walking towards her flat.

The coach, in turn, stared at Kila’s body; her trained eyes carefully watching the brush of Kila’s clothes against the swimsuit she knew the latter was wearing. She smiled, ran a hand down her body, brushing her ample bosom and sex, and chuckled.

“Lara,” She called after a long pause.

“Yes, Miss Jen,” Lara mindlessly said, her eyes distracted behind those goggles, her body perfect in her swimsuit.

“I have a job for you,” The coach said with a grin of Machiavellian magnitude.