The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

We Need A Man

by Pan

“Are you sure this is the one, Lumar?”

“Of course, Zarboth. We have tested every man in the area, and this is the one the powers are emanating from.”

“But he’s just a boy...we need a man.”

“He will become a man. He just needs the stimulation.”

“Shall we begin the program?”

“Of course.”

“Very well, Lumar. By night, he shall no longer be a virgin. By the end of the week, his powers shall be fully formed.”

“Press the button, Zarboth.”

* * *

My name’s Paul. I’m eighteen years old, and I am surrounded by women.

You might think I’m exaggerating, but it’s insane. I live with my step-mom (I got handed around a lot as a kid, and ended up with my Dad’s second wife) and her life partner, Zara. Mom (as she insists I call her—my real Mom died when I was a kid) has three daughters, and Zara has four.

So that’s me: my lesbian parents, three step-sisters and Zara’s four daughters. On top of that, Mom is rich (although I’ve never worked out exactly where the money comes from) and so we have a bunch of servants.

All female. I don’t know if Mom hates men, doesn’t trust them...or if she just likes having a bit of eye-candy around. I mean, it’s hard to argue with that—they’re all pretty cute. Kate is my favorite, or maybe Li. Kate does most of the stuff in the kitchen, always dressed in a red-and-white checkered apron, and Li is a little Asian girl who’s in charge of my room. She’s almost always hanging around in a French maid outfit—I don’t know if that’s her choice, or if Jo got it for her.

Oh, Jo is in charge of the servants. She’s about 35, and always dressed professionally. Suit pants, a nice jacket, often a tie. Combine that with her short, Ellen-like haircut and if it wasn’t for her bust, you’d never guess she wasn’t a guy.

I’d never make a move on either of them, of course. Mom would kill me if she ever found out, unless Zara got to me first.

It can just be frustrating. The servants are super cute—they’re not family, so I feel way better about checking them out. But honestly, the hottest people in the house are probably my Mom and Zara. Mom’s almost 40 now, but you wouldn’t know it to look at her. She’s always dressed like she’s about to go to the office—knee-length skirts, white buttoned-up blouses, stockings and heels.

Zara is black. She’s maybe six feet—quite tall, and fairly intimidating. She’s always dressed to kill, too—literally. I mean, if you told me that she was an assassin in her spare time, I wouldn’t be surprised. Black leather, skin-tight outfits. It’s amazing that she manages to squeeze her boobs into them; her and Mom are both incredibly busty.

Their looks got passed down to their kids, too. Like I said, Zara has four—Eb, Florence, Gertrude and Hilda. They were all adopted, but I think Gertrude and Hilda are related. None of them really talk to me much—I guess cos I’m the only boy in the house, they tend to spend time with my step-sisters.

Those are Mom’s kids. Like, her biological kids. Cristy, Abby and Bianca—they’re all stuck-up as hell, and won’t even give me the time of day when Mom isn’t around. Sometimes the seven of them hang around together in the pool, dressed in nothing but bikinis.

I spend those days trying very, very hard to remember that they’re my siblings.

Anyway, that’s my life. Surrounded by women, but not one of them that I’m allowed to date. Still, there’s plenty of eye-candy. And, of course, in my dreams they’re all much nicer to me...

* * *

As soon as the alien pressed the button, several things happened. Firstly, Paul’s latent psychic powers began to manifest. They would still need to be fostered, but the seed was now active, and with the correct stimulation, he would soon reach the full extent of his powers.

Secondly, the correct stimulation began to manifest.

All the women in the house would grow taller and bustier over the next few days—the aliens had seen exactly what turned Paul on, and the women in his life were to be altered to match those desires. Their minds were altered too—every woman in the house was turned bisexual, their desires split evenly between Paul and the other women in their life.

By morning, every woman would be equally aroused by the man they lived with and all the women.

To get things started, Zara was particularly affected. She rose from her bed, still asleep, and began walking towards his room. As always, Zara had gone to bed in a red semi- transparent night gown. Through the thin mesh, her black thong could be seen, as well as her large (and recently enlarged) bosom and long dark nipples.

Without waking her life partner, Zara left the room and made her way into Paul’s. Less than four minutes after the alien’s actions changed their lives forever, she was in the bed of her partner’s son, reaching into his boxer shorts, and stroking his cock until he was hard.

As both of them continued to sleep, Zara pushed her thong to the side and lowered herself onto the teenaged boy’s hardness. She rode him steadily until he grunted, spurting his seed into her unprotected cunt. The feeling of his orgasm (the first male orgasm she’d ever been a part of) was enough to bring her over the edge as well, and once they had both finished, she removed her thong, leaving it under his pillow.

With that, the sexsomniac returned to her own bed, where Paul’s Mom, still sleeping felt compelled go down on her girlfriend, unknowingly sucking her step-son’s cum out of her dripping cunt.

* * *

I awoke the next morning with a huge smile on my face. What a weird and wonderful dream—I’d dreamt that I was fucking an Amazonian woman. Big and busty, with no compulsions to do anything but cum around my cock.

It wasn’t until I followed the unusual smell to beneath my pillow that I realized something was up.

Someone had left their thong under my pillow! And not just any thong—it was black, and pungent with the delicious scent of pussy.

My mind was racing. Who could it have been? Li? Kate?

I reached down and began jacking it at the idea of one of those gorgeous women sneaking into my room at night and leaving a wet pair of panties for me to find, when suddenly another thought struck me.

It could just as easily have been one of my stuck-up step-sisters. I don’t know exactly what kind of prank would start with leaving a soaked thong under my pillow, but I knew that I didn’t want to find out.

My fantasies shifted from Li and I making out, to me lining up my three bitchy step- sisters and cumming on their faces as they scowled, and tried to spit it out.

“Take it,” I grunted, the strange thong wrapped around my cock, and soon I was spurting my seed onto my chest and stomach, thoughts of revenge in my head.

* * *

That day, Paul noticed that something was different about the women in his life, but he couldn’t work out what it was. Did they all seem...taller? No, that couldn’t be right.

One thing was for sure; they were treating him differently. They all seemed to have a perpetual blush on their face, and every time he looked at them directly, they would burst into giggles.

He even thought he saw a few of them checking him out, but that couldn’t be right. He’d known these women his whole life, and none of them had ever shown even a glimmer of interest in him before. What were the odds that all of them had spontaneously developed a crush at the same time?

As he watched them, he realized that they were checking each other out as well. The girls had either grown more attracted to each other, or he’d just never noticed their lesbian tendencies before.

That night, Paul fell immediately into a deep slumber. Again, he was visited in the night—this time by the cheeky servant Kate from the kitchen. Still sleeping, she made her way into his room—the teenage boy was already hard, and she slipped her short, revealing nightie to the side and began slowly riding him, until they were both crying out in orgasm.

“Come in me, Master!” she sleepingly cried out.

On her way out of the room, she was passed by Gertrude and Hilda—the biological sisters adopted by Zara. Like Kate, they were both asleep, but on some level they were aware of how wrong their actions were.

At this point, Paul woke up—not enough to realize he was awake, but enough to appreciate what was going on in front of him. As he watched, still half-asleep, the buxom girls slowly stripped each other, and made out for his viewing pleasure. He moaned softly as the teen girls’ tongues entered each other’s mouths, and their hands began to roam—caressing their smooth, exposed skin, and causing tingles to run up each other’s spines.

“Our sleeping bodies are yours,” Gertrude and Hilda murmured.

When Paul was well and truly hard, the girls turned their talented mouths to him—Gertrude took his full length into her mouth, while Hilda enthusiastically began licking and sucking on his testicles.

It wasn’t long before Paul was cumming, fully convinced that what was happening was a dream. He spurted onto the sister’s faces, and then went back to sleep while watching them lick it off each other.

* * *

I realized something was up the moment I walked out for breakfast. I’d had more vivid, sexual dreams—this time, featuring two of Zara’s daughters and the head of the staff.

As soon as I saw the hungry, lustful faces on their faces, I knew it hadn’t been a dream. What’s more, it felt like I had shrunk—everyone around the table looked so huge!

I staggered backwards for a moment—Mom immediately grabbed me a chair, sat me down, and started rubbing my temples to make sure that I was okay. It wasn’t until I realized that my feet still touched the floor, as usual, that I was able to calm down enough to realize that I was the same size as I’d always been.

Mom and my sisters had grown.

No, not just Mom and my sister. Everyone. Mom was dressed in a dark navy skirt that ended just above her knees, and a white blouse which—for the first time that I can remember—actually showed cleavage.

What’s more, it seemed like Mom had more cleavage than she’d had before.

From the looks of it, she was wearing one of her normal outfits. She just...didn’t fit into it as well as she normally did.

Overnight, Mom—and all the women in the house—had somehow grown.

I didn’t say anything. I tried to act as normal, just in case this was some kind of cosmic test. honestly, I didn’t know what the hell was going on—but over the course of the day, a few things became clear.

Firstly, Mom wasn’t the only one looking a bit bustier than normal. I first noticed it with Li—she was dusting my room, as usual, and I realized that she was showing cleavage.

Now, Li is as cute as hell—always has been—but her frilly little black maid’s outfit has never shown cleavage before; because she’s never had any to show.

Either wonderbra technology had rapidly advanced, or whatever had caused my Asian maid’s sudden growth spurt had also given her BOOBS in the process. She saw me staring, blushed, giggled, and from that moment on always made sure that no matter what she was doing, it involved me getting a generous view of her new tits.

Secondly, Li wasn’t the only one interested in teasing me. All the girls of the house were wearing less and less clothing. Even Bianca, Abby and Cristy—normally when they know I’m around, they make sure to cover up (although I’ve spent many an afternoon staring at them as they sunbathe by the pool).

That day, however, it was like they desperately wanted my attention. Bianca pulled out an orange bikini (which contrasted beautifully with her black hair) that I’d never seen before, and actually wore it into my room once or twice, saying she “just wanted to chat”. Abby wore a long white T-shirt that clearly showed she had no bra under it, and a pair of pink panties. Then she got dressed as usual, but when four or five pm arrived, she’d shed back down to a pink teddy, as if she was about to go to bed.

Cristy was the worst of the three—I don’t think she even bothered trying to justify it, she just wore a pair of knee-high cowboy boots, and a black, lacy set of lingerie. Whenever I went to talk to her, she’d get very touchy—moving my hands to her bare waist, running a finger up and down my chest, insisting on sitting on my lap whenever we chatted.

It was hot as hell, and I had no idea why any of them were doing it.

* * *

As I was getting ready for bed (anticipating a record-breaking masturbation session, after everything I’d seen that day) Jo asked me to meet her in the servant quarters. I gaped when I saw what she was wearing—I hadn’t seen her all day, and it was clear that she’d spent the day preparing.

The normally pants-only Jo was wearing the shortest schoolgirl skirt I’d ever seen. It looked like she was dressed to go to a very naughty Catholic school, and it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing panties. On top, she was only wearing a white blouse, carefully positioned to show her cleavage (had she always had that much cleavage?) and hide very little.

“Sir,” she stammered, and a surge of power rushed through my body. “I just thought...”


“I thought you might want a massage.”

My eyes lit up. I’d long dreamed of having Jo’s hand running over me, and I certainly wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Within a few minutes I was stripped off, laying on the massage table Jo had prepared, wearing nothing but a towel. For the next twenty minutes, her skilled fingers roamed my body, making me feel better than anything I could remember.

With a cough, she asked me to roll over, which I did. I was hard as a rock, and I saw Jo’s eyes widen in excitement as she noticed—as if in a trance, she began massaging my chest and stomach, her eyes never leaving the obvious tent in my towel.

As her massage got lower and lower, her breathing got faster, and when she reached the edge of the towel, I was worried she would hyperventilate.

“Paul...” she gasped.


“Have you heard of...would you like...”

I paused, wondering where she was going with this. Finally, after a few more attempts, she squeaked “Happy ending?” and I nodded before even processing what she was asking.

Jo was shaking with excitement as she leaned in close, and removed my towel. The arousal that had been building up all day got the better of me, and as soon as she touched my turgid rod, I was cumming, spewing my load all over her face and clothes.


The head servant cried out with joy as I sprayed her with my cum, and I could have sworn that she was cumming as well.

As we both recovered from our orgasms, I wanted to stay, to explore this new sexual side of Jo that I’d ever seen...but she fled from the room, and I retired to my room to sleep as well.

* * *

That night, I was woken up by Mom. She was dressed in a blue nightie; opaque around her firm, E-cup breasts, and almost completely see-through everywhere else.

“Mom?” I said, but one look in her eyes told me with absolute certainty that she couldn’t hear me. Not consciously, anyway.

My step-mother seemed to be sleep-walking.

“Paul,” she said in a rasp, her eyes unfocused. A chill ran up my spine, but I was also excited to see what she would say. Perhaps this would provide a clue as to the strange events of the past seven days. “Follow me.”

I followed her into the basement, where she pushed an old filing cabinet aside, and leaned heavily on the brick wall. To my surprise it swung open, revealing a huge metal door, protected by a keypad. After checking that I was watching, Mom slowly and deliberately typed in the code, and the metal door slowly opened, to reveal more jewelry and cash than I could ever imagine seeing in my life.

“Take this,” she whispered, and started counting stacks of $100 bills into my hand. “Use them for whatever you like—they’re completely untraceable.”

“Mom?” I asked, but she didn’t seem to comprehend that I’d even spoken. “Get yourself a Mercedes station wagon.”

That was my dream car...a fact that I knew I had never, ever mentioned to anyone.

With a thin, creepy smile, Mom pulled out a finance statement, and thrust it into my hands. Even without the contents of this vault, it soon became clear that my Mom was worth tens of millions of dollars—something that had certainly never been made apparent to me before.

No wonder she could afford this house, the servants. This explained a lot.

* * *

Mom followed me back into my room, and—still sleeping—pushed me back on the bed. Looking up at me with that blank stare, she’d lowered my pajama pants, pulled out my cock, and slowly begun running her tongue up and down my shaft.

“Honey, you must come in me,” she chanted.

As soon as I was hard (which, trust me, hadn’t taken long) she’d moved up on the bed, moved the tip of my cock to her wetness, and slowly lowered herself until she’d taken my entire length. I’d been too stunned to speak as my sleeping mother had slowly rocked back and forth until she’d brought both of us to orgasm.

Immediately after we came, she collapsed on the bed next to me, snuggled up with me in a way that no woman ever had, and finally closed her unfocused eyes. It hadn’t taken long for sleep to overcome me as well.

A few hours later, I was wide awake once more. My mind kept racing—I’d been dreaming of Eb and Florence, Zara’s two eldest daughters. In my unconscious fantasies, they’d been passionately making out, learning how to pleasure each other, two adopted sisters teaching themselves how to use their bodies to get off.

I groggily stood up and made my way to the kitchen. To my surprise, the two girls of my dreams were there—Eb and Florence were standing completely naked in the middle of the dark kitchen, their lips locked, their hands roaming over each other’s skin.

They didn’t seem to notice when I turned the light on, and it quickly became clear that they were still sleeping. I sat at the counter and poured myself a glass of milk as I watched the show they were unknowingly putting on for me.

Florence’s hands moved down to Eb’s firm ass, grabbing her cheeks so hard that I wondered if she’d leave bruises. Eb, though asleep, seemed to be enjoying it—she threw her head back in passion and silently moaned, as she grabbed Florence’s large, D-cup breasts.

The two girls were coated in a thin layer of sweat, their eyes glazed over and their breathing heavy. As I watched, Eb opened the fridge and pulled out a can of whipped cream—Florence lay back on the kitchen table in anticipation, and was soon rewarded as Eb added a generous dab of whipped cream first to her own nipples, then to Florence’s.

“We are your sleepwalking slaves,” they told each other, and I couldn’t help but wonder—did they know I was watching?

Florence shuddered with pleasure as Eb’s small pink tongue flicked over her nipples. She drew her sister’s head to hers, and passionately kissed her, licking whipped cream off her lips and giving her ass a firm, hard slap.

For the next hour, I watched the sisters enjoy each other’s bodies, wondering if I were in a dream. Finally, when the can of whipped cream was empty and the girls had brought each other to several quivering orgasms, they started to move towards bed and I did the same.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up, stacks of cash in my bed and my mother snoozing beside me.

Suddenly, everything was suddenly clear. I had been given a gift, the stimulation to unlock my natural psychic abilities. With a wordless command, every woman in the house—still sleeping—had marched into the living room, where Mom and I had joined them just a few minutes later.

To my delight, all the women were at least six feet tall—Zara was closer to seven. It seemed that my unconscious had transformed the women of my house into Amazonian figures, just as I’d long fantasized.

There’s something so sexy about seeing what people sleep in. Zara was wearing a very similar outfit to Mom’s, but in red instead of blue. Her four daughters were just wearing panties—Eb and Florence were in white, Gertrude and Hilda were in black, and all four of them had large-but-perky C-cup breasts.

A single thought was all it took to harden their nipples.

Abby, Bianca and Cristy were all in long white T-shirts. A mental command caused them to remove them, to reveal the thong underwear they were wearing underneath. They blushed with arousal at the sight of each other’s bodies, and the three sisters immediately started reaching out to fondle each other’s asses.

Li, to my delight, slept totally naked. I summoned here towards me, and began doing what I’d dreamt of doing for so long—touching and caressing her nude body, pulling at her nipples and gently slapping her ass. Before long, she was wet—a pulse of mental energy was all it took to make the rest of the girls wet as well, and they all simultaneously moaned in their sleep, preparing for what was going to happen next.

I was surprised to see that Jo slept in a long nightgown that mostly covered the gorgeous, well-developed body I’d seen so much of the previous night. At my mental instruction, Kate (who slept in a longish black T-shirt with nothing under it) used her teeth to slowly take Jo’s nightgown off, allowing me to see her naked beauty for the first time.

As soon as Jo was naked, Kate began uncontrollably fondling her double-D breasts; tweaking her long reddish nipples, and cupping her huge bust.

Unlike any of the other women (that I could see, anyway) Jo had a wild, untrimmed bush. With a smile, I began ordering the women around. I could have done it without speaking, but there was something hot about watching them obey my words without question.

“Abby, Bianca—I want you to hold Cristy down. While you do that, I want you to make out with her. Take turns, and then take a break to kiss each other. Cristy, while they’re making out, I want you to lick and suck their breasts. Li, get on your knees—you’re going to get me nice and hard, so I can finally fuck my step-sister.”

I don’t know why I picked Cristy to be my first fuck of the day; I think she’s always been the cruelest towards me.

“Mom, you’re going to get her nice and wet. Make sure you use your tongue, just as you did on me last night.”

That still left more than half a dozen girls, but I knew that this orgy would be lasting all day, and so I was in no rush. Still...I decided it was a waste, to have them sitting around and doing nothing.

“Eb and Florence, I want you to go down on Gertrude and Hilda.”

“We will fulfill our Master’s fantasies,” Eb and Florence mindlessly chorused.

“We must obey,” Gertrude and Hilda echoed.

“Kate, Jo—your job is to suck on Zara’s huge titties until she’s dripping wet—wet enough to fuck. Then I want you to finger her, and then make her lick your pussies until you cum.”

Within a few seconds, the room was a flurry of movement as everyone leapt to my commands. I smiled as my cock made its way into Li’s mouth, and the soft moans of female pleasure filled the room.

I don’t know who helped me unlock my powers (or why), but I know I’ll be eternally grateful to them.

Life was so different from then on. When I was around, all my women were devoted to my pleasure—whenever I wasn’t, they would be constantly touching each other, feeling each other up and moaning with pleasure as they did. Mom and Kate would share a kiss over a well-cooked supper…one time I walked in on Li giving Zara a massage, before slipping her hands down the busty woman’s top and feeling her huge tips.

When they noticed me, they just smiled. I think they knew as well as I did:

They needed a man.