The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ten minutes later, I’m backstage with Livia and Mimi. I’m in the shower, obviously. Mimi will need it right after me, being in coveralls in the Florida sun. My balls ache. They ache a lot. I’m sexually frustrated, but also euphorically happy. My erection keeps coming back, whenever I meet Livia’s gaze or her scurrying about makes her chest bounce. “That routine must have really got you worked up,” she chuckles.

“Can you blame him?” Mimi laughs. “I’d love to be in a pile like that some day. If he didn’t have a mega-stiffie I’d be a bit worried.”

Everyone laughs.

“So,” Livia asks, “what do you think?”

“I think oil is easier to get into odd places than it is to get out,” I quip.

“The Make Her Blush contest, dummy. Which girls are you thinking of asking?”

“Roach and Claire are lesbians.”

“Duh,” Livia says. “Also, yum. I’ve got my eyes on Claire, but she’s for the third Decan, not the second.”

“What about Beckie?” I ask. “Given your reaction at the tube race, I would have pegged her as your first choice.”

“Mmm,” Livia says, trying to find a reason to argue. “The audience has already seen her come, and I’m not sure she’s smart enough to appreciate the contest. Also, if she doesn’t take that damn bubblegum out of her mouth while the dude is talking, we’ll catch it on mike and it’s pop the mood like it was one of her damn bubbles.”

“Beckie’s smarter than she looks,” I say. “Well, maybe. She’s not out-of-control-horny or anything, but she had a healthy libido in the last contest. Full disclosure: I would get a lot of entertainment out of seeing her in Make Her Blush. After the inner tube race, I bet you two would as well.”

Mimi looks dazed for a second and shakes her head. “Beckie seems really nice,” she finally says.

I think Beckie is the platonic ideal of what Mimi wants to be. I wonder how they’d get along, but I also have a feeling the resulting conversation would be acutely painful to any hapless bystanders.

Livia glances between us. “Okay, I’m outvoted. She irritates me, but I’ll cope.”

It’s not a vote, really. Livia is The Boss, but she’s a nice, reasonable boss who listens to people.

“Beckie should be on first,” I say. “Even if she doesn’t get aroused, she’ll probably say or do something weird, dumb or eccentric that will amuse the audience. She can be the icebreaker.”

“Yeah,” Livia says. “That’s actually clever. What about the other three girls?”

“Not Jeanne,” I say. “She’s sexy, but also experienced and more than a bit jaded. Whispered dirty talk isn’t going to do anything to her composure.”

“Agreed.”

A few other names I haven’t or can’t include here get brought up. Mimi has gone over the camera footage and found a girl from the crowd, Laura, who she thinks would be good. I agreed she has a tangible Aura.

“I wish you hadn’t used up Brenda like that,” Livia says. “She would have been perfect for this. She was super-horny.”

I felt oddly defensive on Brenda’s behalf. It’s like I have a weird intimacy with her. I don’t like that casualness. “Brenda wouldn’t be as into it as you might think. She wanted to do something wild, not be told something wild. And, given her show with the balloon cock, she’d probably be too blunt, or interrupt the guy, or make him embarrassed.”

Livia shrugs. “Ok. We’re running out of names. I don’t want to pull more than one girl out of the crowd ‘cold’ for this. Anyone else?”

I wonder about her desire to avoid audience girls. “Is it really going to appeal to amateur, sometimes repressed, girls if we only give the hotter bits to girls from the nudie games and contests? I’m sure there’s lots of girls that would be interested in the ‘Blair package’ — a bit of erotic hypnosis, but no actual nudity.”

Livia shrugs indifferently. “I want to draw girls, but on our own terms. I’m totally okay with sending cute amateur girls the message that we can get their intimate bits all wet and sticky better than they can themselves, but they’re going to need to get them out for us — and our audience — first.”

Harsh. Hot, but still harsh.

“What about Michelle Morris? She’s no ingenue, and I admit that it’s likely to just blow off her like water over sand... but if it didn’t, that would be a heck of a thing to witness, wouldn’t it?”

The three of us visualize it for a second, and I think everyone involved finds it tempting. “Okay,” Livia agrees. “We have our moonshot. We’ll put her on last, so if she stays cool it doesn’t harsh anyone else’s vibe — and if she doesn’t, we get a hell of a climax. Beckie, Michelle and Laura. Who’s our fourth and fifth? What about Wendy?”

I’m not sure how Wendy will be feeling, given what I suspect happened in the wrestling bit. I sketch this out in elliptical language to my fellow Trips.

“I’m simultaneously horrified, sympathetic and deeply aroused. Why don’t we watch her and see how she reacts to the early contestants? If she really was... er... invaded, and she’s still grooving on naughty shows an hour later, well, that’s a pretty kinky girl. In all likelihood, however, she’s already on her way back to her hotel to have a shower and feel bad about herself. I doubt we’ll find her in the crowd. If we do, and she still seems to be in a sexy mood, grab her. But don’t expect it.”

“Amanda’s a possibility,” I say.

“Didn’t she bail on the first Decan before anyone else?”

“Yup,” I reply. “But Mimi’s right. She has limits and inhibitions. Most girls do. She’s a model. She didn’t want to get down and dirty full-frontal style in a show mostly for guys. Lots of girls wouldn’t. Doesn’t mean she won’t enjoy some kinky words.”

“She’s like a foot taller than you,” Mimi points out. “Are any of the stock scenarios going to even make sense for her?”

As soon as Mimi says that, I realize Amanda will be perfect. “The scenarios being generic are perfect for her,” I say. “Think about it. She’s not a foot taller than me because she wants to be seen as imposing. It’s not a persona or affectation. Her skeleton is just shaped like that. She was born with it, just like I was born with mine, and she’s probably a bit sick of dating guys with amazon fetishes. Well, guess what? We have guys that don’t have amazon fetishes to whisper scenarios not built around an amazon partner into her ear. Even if that doesn’t melt her heart and her panties, it might still be oddly satisfying for her.”

“Okay,” Livia says. “We’ll see if Amanda is willing. What about fallbacks?”

“Molly,” Mimi says. “She took her role a bit further than the script required. Maybe she’s up for it.”

Livia laughs. “Marc had it coming... or didn’t you notice him grab her and suck her like a bloody lollipop in the pit?”

I blush. “That was an accident.”

Livia rolls her eyes. “I wish you were that accident-prone around me.”

Oh, bless the gods of comedic set-up lines! Holy shit, Livia, I want to shout in exaltation, challenge fucking accepted! But in fact I can’t let on any part of my scheme at this point so I keep a rigid poker face and respond sharply. “It really was an accident. Beckie ground my face twice, flirting. Go back and check the footage if you don’t believe me. When Molly somehow, uh... ended up in that position, I thought it was Beckie all but begging for it. That’s the truth, I swear.”

“I believe you,” Mimi says in genuine sympathy. I think my burst of paranoia around the irony of Livia’s last comment made my response harsher than it would otherwise have been.

“Agreed,” Livia says. “Sorry, Marcelo.”

Then a smile curls around the edge of her face. “Still, screw Princess Di’s see-through skirt; I think we can rate your case of oral mistaken identity as the hottest oopsie moment on film, anywhere, ever.”

“Well, that was a pretty hot first Decan! I think things got a wee bit out of control,” Livia tells the enthusiastic crowd, “but then again, getting out of control every now and then is fun — and what better place to have fun than Spring Break? Even if you end up blushing a bit, the memories are worth it, am I right? Speaking of blushing... girls sure are cute when they blush. Wouldn’t you agree, Molly?”

It turns out we won’t actually need Molly for the second Decan, but that doesn’t stop Livia from dragging her out here again for the intro bit. She doesn’t seem to mind — I get the feeling she’s having fun.

Obviously, I get the task of soliciting participation from our desired hotties while Vendetta played on stage. I pulled really well — I’m not sure if it had anything to do with the girls getting to “inspect the goods”, so to speak, before my pitch — and we got our first-choice lineup: Beckie, Amanda, Laura, Wendy and Michelle. It only took a little bit of verbal massaging. Wendy shocked me with how chill she was after her incident in the first Decan, while Beckie, Laura and Michelle were all eager. Amanda took the most persuasion — she’s cautious, but also vincible to temptation.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know anything about that, Miss Livia.”

The crowd laughs. “So we’re going to hold a bit of a contest,” Livia continues, “for five of our blushing beauties, and we’re going to pair them with five absolute dreamboats. You all get to watch the show and pick your favorite couple. When you get home tonight, you can call our toll-free number to vote for your favorite. We’ll be announcing the winner at our next show, right here at Summers this coming Friday. So make sure you take down that number! It’s on all our fliers.

“If you call and vote, you can also hear a rather steamy exchange between Mimi and I — or, if you’d prefer, some extra recorded sweet talk from each of our hunky bachelors. It’s two ninety-nine a minute, but voting will only take you two minutes! Of course, if you want to listen to the steamy recordings, well, you might be on a bit longer! We won’t judge you! If you’re sharing a hotel room with friends, please be aware — each phone number can only vote once!”

The crowd, surprisingly, does not react with cynicism or laughter. As I’ve said, this is in many ways a simpler time. And yes, we make a fair bit of money with this stunt.

“So let’s meet our brave young studs! Bring ’em on out, Mimi! First is George, a DJ and bartender with the Button Lounge — and quite the fashion plate, if I may say so myself! He knows all the hippest places to party, he can mix a fine dirty martini and he’s got an even dirtier imagination! Let’s all give George a cheer!”

George is, honestly, a bit of a weirdo. He’s the most player-looking of the five guys we chose, and he does indeed have a dirty mind. But he’s also got an eloquent tongue, and that’s what matters, right? Well, we hope so. He’s handsome in a kind of cut-rate Hasselhoff way, but not the real looker of the guys. His dress is “full swinger 70s throwback”, however, with silk balloon pants, a kimono-like overgarment with a sloping neckline over a hairy chest and a gaudy gold medallion hanging around his neck. He’s the only contestant I can’t manage to out-tacky in my polyester leisure suit. We weren’t originally going to use George — he was a backup for Trevor or Will — but when I introduced Beckie, Livia decided to pair George with her. She figures there’s a reasonable chance that both of them will elicit more laughter than steam.

“Next we have Alan, a local who works for a construction group here in Lauderdale, but writes erotic poetry in his spare time. Ladies, I just need to say... body of a carpenter, soul of a poet — can we hope for a better package than that? I don’t think so. I really doubt it. And the best part... he says his poetry is aimed at both genders! We all know what that means, right? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge!”

Livia pretty much sums up the appeal here — a really ripped bi guy who could be in a naughty calendar for women, who also writes dirty but soulful poetry. Livia’s too kinky for the crowd here — neither gender seems overly enthused by her threesome allusion. I think Alan’s actually the best of the bunch, and I suggest we pair him with Amanda.

“Next is Rick, a fresh young face with a major in engineering from the University of Texas. This is his first Spring Break, so let’s all go easy on him. I hear he’s a real sweetie when you get to know him.”

The unusually eloquent college dude. He’s handsome in a totally generic and non-threatening way, faintly preppie-scented — blonde combover, square jaw, pastel tone shirt and shorts. He’s a bit of a dweeb and would never interest someone like Livia, but I know there are a ton of less jaded girls in the crowd who will consider him the best catch. My only surprise about him is that his major is engineering and not liberal arts. We pair him with the only genuine amateur, Laura, to avoid scandals around age differences — but it’s probably also the safest pairing for the two most mainstream participants. His preppie outfit might look suave back home but isn’t going to do him favors on stage beneath the late afternoon Florida sun.

“Let’s meet Juan! He’s a long-time Lauderdale local with interests including ecology, fantasy fiction, astronomy and recreational chemistry! Ladies, this is one groovy dude!”

Juan is just under fifty. He’s one of the beachside custom van owners, and an utter hippie stoner. He’s really uninhibited and genuine, but I’m not sure about his looks or sex appeal. He’s scruffy-handsome, I guess — ruddy weathered skin, thick salt-and-pepper beard, unruly hair. He’s wearing a loose Hawaiian shirt open down the middle, a straw hat and cut-off jeans. Livia and him struck it off in a big way previously, bonding over their mutual love of sleazy pulp fiction. Names I’ve never even heard before — Clark Ashton Smith, E.E. Doc Smith, Dashiell Hammett — got tossed around a lot in a conversation that very much bored me and enthused Livia.

We pair Juan and Wendy, given the latter is at least a thirty-something — their subcultures and values seem compatible. Privately I’m hoping he really strikes it up with Wendy, since I don’t want him to figure out he has a real chance of pulling Livia. He’s not the most handsome man she’s fucked by a long shot, but she appreciates novelty and has a shared deep interest with him — and I have to admit he has an earthy sensuality. Normally I’d never get between her and an encounter she might enjoy — but right now, I have plans in motion and don’t want to deal with competition.

“And we have our final suitor, Lorenzo! There’s something just a bit dangerous about him, and I need to say I approve! He’s thirty-six, a motorcycle mechanic and enthusiast with a long history in this town. Does anyone wonder which lady can tame this wild heart and help shave off those rough edges?”

Lorenzo’s muscular, handsome and a bit of a goon. I wonder if he’s with an actual motorcycle gang, actually. He is a rebel, and we almost didn’t use him because we’re not sure what he’s going to drop on his partner — he’s an alpha, and not easy for us to lead. He’s got both masculine aggression and a real way with words, though. Carpenter Alan had the good sense to wear a tight white wife-beater over his buff chest, and, well, I’ve described George’s eyesore outfit already.

But Lorenzo showed up today in full costume as a greaser — like, he’s actually doing Travolta from Grease, and fairly well save for his goatee. He’s wearing a black leather jacket, which is glaringly stereotypical, and he’s not wearing anything under it, which is honestly a bit daring. He’s also the only one that seems to really be doing a strong persona — he’s aware of the bad boy effect on girls, and is channeling it quite intentionally. He’s left with Michelle — which, honestly... she’s a bit out of his league, in my opinion. I would have paired Lorenzo and Beckie, just for the caricature macho man/girly girl comedic contrast — but maybe Lorenzo comes off as less of a caricature to anyone actually able to be attracted to men.

“Okay, and here’s our lucky ladies!”

Livia brings out Beckie, Amanda, Laura, Wendy and Michelle, giving each a simple introduction like with their suitors. Beckie is in a pink miniskirt, pink tank top and has pink hair ornaments, pink fishnet stockings and pink high heels — I’m sensing a bit of a theme there. Amanda has a much classier navy evening dress. Laura has the stock non-bikini Lauderdale babe getup — tight short shorts and a tight white shirt. She’s average looking, but the clothes accentuate her curves. Wendy is wearing her surfer’s bodyglove — she’s totally unpretentious, and the only girl I can imagine not having had a small neurotic attack wondering what to wear to this event. Michelle has a very sultry little black dress, with spaghetti straps and a faux-bejeweled trim. It highlights her amazing figure really well.

“So let me explain how this little contest we’ve cooked up is going to work. Each guy sits in that chair and takes the microphone. His girl is going to go sit on his lap and try to keep eye contact with him as much as possible, but doesn’t need to — and, in fact, can’t — talk back. We’re going to give each young lady a pair of headphones, so she can be all alone with her suitor. Each of our lucky dudes is then going to narrate a fantasy to one of these young ladies.

“It needs to be a racy story. It needs to have naughty bits in it. It needs to keep going when television fades to black. It needs to have the kind of words in it that make goosebumps stand up on a woman’s back and send shivers down her spine. It can be a whole fantasy scenario... or, it can just be a rather detailed description of what he’d like to do with — and to — her if he was lucky enough to get her back to his place. The choice is his. Above all, though, what he needs to do — what we’re all here to judge him on — is his ability to... Make! Her! Blush!”

Livia turns to the men. “Now guys, I want to be really clear on this. You need to watch your partner, and you need to be sensual. Keep looking in her eyes. Hold her hands. Don’t touch anything else. You’re trying to woo the girl, to crank her engine — not to humiliate her, or make her uncomfortable. Make the story you are telling personal to the girl in your lap — don’t assume you know things about her outside of here, but reference her features, say her name, talk about what you love about her. And talk about your own body! Whatever your story is, you two are the protagonists!

“We want to hear the naughty words, but we also want to be classy about it. You’ve all got cocks, and you’re going to need to tell her what gets done with them... but make sure you earn it before you get to that point, okay? You’ve got fifteen minutes to tell your story. It should have at least five minutes of bedroom activities in it, and we’re not looking for soft focus here. You can use words like cock, pussy, nipples, sweat, thrusting, goosebumps, clit, suckling, arching, thrusting, grinding, moaning, swelling, pulsating... woah, I might be getting a bit carried away here, folks. Sorry about that!”

Next Livia turns to the girls. “Okay, ladies. You’ve got an easy, fun job here. All you need to do is sit in your contestant’s lap, put on the headphones, keep an open mind and let his imagination take you on a ride... pun intended. Your reaction will do all the talking for you. If you get a bit embarrassed or self-conscious, don’t worry about it. We all want to see you blush, after all! Blushing is sexy, and this game is an excuse for guys to say things to you they’re not normally allowed to say.

“We want to push your limits, a bit, but we also want you to be having fun. If you find this is too awkward, or you feel degraded, or you’re having an anxiety attack, just raise your hand and say time — and things end right there. And if we don’t feel the guy did anything wrong, don’t worry — you won’t penalize him. We might have a few backup girls ready to fill in. But at least try to lose yourselves in the narrative, and I think all five of you can have some fun with this contest tonight. Is everyone ready?”

All ten contestants seem eager.

You’ve probably already figured out the punchline to this game, right? The stated goal is for the guy to ‘woo’ his girl, make her blush and turn her on a little bit — but what we’re actually hoping for is that, by carefully manipulating circumstances, we can actually get one of our contestants to talk a girl all the way up to an actual orgasm, on stage, with nothing but dirty talk and some of Livia’s beloved adjectives. Livia thinks this will sell massively to girls, and I’m actually more hopeful in that area at this point than I was when we started brainstorming this bit.

I know Livia likes dirty stories as a type of foreplay, and I can probably get her off by talking to her dirty for long enough — but I always thought of that as ‘Livia’s fetishes’ rather than ‘what girls like’. Summers is not, incidentally, a stranger to contests involving orgasms — they hold a fake orgasm contest each Spring Break, and even though the girls are faking it the results are still quite sexy to watch. We actually pitched this to management as a covert “real orgasm contest”, or at least a way to get girls really obviously and cutely turned on while on stage.

You’ve also likely figured out that we’ve done a lot to weigh and fix the contest. Both genders have been through the Sieve looking for the magic moment we want to capture on film. (Neither side was directly told what we were actually trying to achieve, though.) Four out of five girls went through the first Decan (and the fifth was chosen for her... interesting reactions while watching it), and I think are both horny and uninhibited as a result. We chose the guys, then — an hour before the first Decan started — Livia offered them a little hypnotic confidence boost. She said it would be a training program to give them the best chances and help them not freeze up. She told the truth, in that she did hypnotize them to increase their confidence (and remove their inhibitions about saying lewd things). We also stuck them in what could basically be called a home-made sleepteacher, however.

Most romance novels are trash, in terms of both prose quality and level of heat. Even Livia, who collects and adores them, will admit this. But there are a select few that are explicit and (I understand, from a woman’s sensibilities) fairly hot. Livia is a living encyclopedia of these things, and we went through her recommendations list to filter it down to the ones that we think have mainstream appeal rather than just hitting one of the many patented Livia fetish buttons. From there, we looked at the use of language, and tried to figure out which scenarios a man could narrate in the second person in under fifteen minutes.

We didn’t give the men scripts. They do actually choose what they’re going to say, and what approach they’re going to take, in the contest. But we did have them listen to extended explicit passages in a trance state, to put them in the right headspace and make the right words come out at the right time. And, of course, to do the thing we actually promised them — to boost their confidence and block feelings of discomfort that makes guys normally stop short of the explicit when dirty talking to a woman, or to fall back on the macho, vulgar dirty talk seen in porno films.

First up are George and Beckie. He sits down and — credit to the guy — he has a cocky, lazy, insubordinate pose that is kind of sexy. Now, we told the girls to sit in the guys’ laps and look in their eyes — but we didn’t specify an exact position. They can sit perpendicular with legs closed if desired — but, of course, Beckie doesn’t do that. She spreads her legs wide and straddles him face to face, like a stripper giving a lap dance. “I think you’re hot,” she says. “Talk to me, and make me feel really good. I’m already horny.”

That’s direct... but then, as I know better than anyone, Beckie is a pretty direct girl. I’m not sure if George is normally equally direct, but he picks up the cue and abandons any complex scenario he might have had in mind. “You know, I noticed how much energy you have, and that slight girlish giggle of yours. I find that my imagination quickly drifts to how you would behave if I started lightly licking that wonderful slant on your neck — yes, right there, the ticklish bit that just makes you squirm uncontrollably...”

Beckie giggles. “That sounds fun. Do it!”

Livia quickly intercedes. “No, Beckie, hon, this is all imaginary. George is going to describe what he’d like to do, not actually do it. Of course,” she adds with a wink to the audience, “if you two want to try things out for real later, there’s nothing we can do about it — but there’s also no implicit promise that’s going to happen.”

“I promise! See, it’s explicit now.”

George has this wonderful smirk. I doubt he’ll mind keeping the promise. I’m a bit jealous, actually — part of me still wants a third taste of Beckie. But George is smart, and knows he needs to play the contest right. “Beckie, baby, you need to be quiet now and just imagine stuff.”

She nods, and he goes on with the quite explicit foreplay. George is more that a little bit sleazy; he keeps describing how things make her squirm, or how turned on feeling the warmth of her body makes him or how he knows she loves him because of how tightly she hugs him — basically, all things that are subtle cues for her to give him a really grindy lap dance, which she’s basically doing. And she’s clearly getting aroused. I’m not sure how much the words and language and all the eloquence that Livia is so proud of engineering are actually doing — I think she’s just getting off on being close to a guy and having him whisper bad words and naughty-sounding things to her. I wonder if he could get her off by just whispering “Cock. Cock. Cock. Cock,” in her ear over and over.

She’s also struggling between her arousal and her near-instinctive urge to make inane comments. I see her raise her hand like a schoolgirl waiting to speak in class, and then Livia just stares her down. I see her eyes flash as some comment pops into her mind, and then she bites her lip to stifle it. Her hand also tends to wander between her legs and rub whenever George’s words get more forceful or tense. Watching her face is like watching an epic battle between the forces of raw lust and performative idiocy. It’s actually kind of amazing.

I check the time. We’re four minutes in. This is way more sexual than we wanted for the first couple. Beckie is clearly going to come soon; she’s panting, and her blush now covers not only her face but her thighs. She’s clearly having a lot of fun, as is George, but I’m not sure how much other girls are going to relate to this couple. And... George is starting to get freaky.

His stuff is very stream-of-consciousness, and now he’s starting to work weird fetishes in. He implies something in an off-hand way about her taming a male cougar — I think he meant the actual animal — using only her pussy-scent. He narrates feeding her pills that make her breasts grow. He talks about using a tantric ritual to channel the African sex goddess Erzulie into her body. He says he could see the cosmic circuitry of the Lords of Venus imprinted on her soul when he looks in her eyes. (I’m going to guess George hit on Diane at some point.) He compares her to Velma from Scooby Doo. (She doesn’t look at all like Velma, in case that wasn’t obvious.)

With any of the other four girls, he probably would have gotten a comedic eyeroll and rebuke. The thing is, though, Beckie isn’t listening to the content of his words. She likes a guy talking dirty to her in public, and she’s really, quite aggressively, grinding him. She’s sweating and starting to moan. Not only is she going to have an orgasm, she’s probably going to have a very loud and blatant one. I wonder if I broke her somehow with the finger guns.

I glance at the other girls. They’re not horrified or creeped out, at least. Wendy may actually be taking George’s performance seriously, and is listening intently. Amanda and Laura are whispering to each other and giggling. They know this is a bit stupid, but they’re also faintly turned on by the weird couple. Michelle is impassive, keeping her model smile gleaming. But despite things taking a sharp turn into zany town, I don’t feel that the mood is crashing. The other girls are, if nothing else, pleasantly entertained by the spectacle.

Livia looks pissed, though — she didn’t like Beckie to begin with, and likes... whatever the fuck is happening now even less. George is being weird enough that I’m starting to wonder if his game is actually satire — as in, taking the piss out of our show in order to win some hipster cred while walking off with the babe anyway.

Beckie is going to have her moment. Weird dialogue aside, watching her get off again is sexy, even if it’s a minor catastrophe for the Trips. She’s gasping and grinding really vigorously. Girls in the audience are giggling, whereas the guys are mostly just staring. I doubt any girls want to be Beckie the way they wanted to be Brenda earlier, but they’re still amused and mildly turned on by watching something that’s both naughty and funny in an absurdist way. Beckie finishes her unsubtle orgasm as George narrates some bizarre bullshit about her being a lounge singer using her womanly charms to foil the Nazis in a past life. We’re only six and a half minutes into a fifteen-minute monologue, and Beckie is still horny and grinding.

Livia walks up to Beckie, putting her hands under her armpits and hauling her to a standing position before pulling off the headphones. Her tone is cheerful, but to anyone paying close attention it does come off as forced. “Well, you two certainly got right to the climax of things, didn’t you? Congratulations on the steamy show! Beckie and George, folks — don’t they just make a wonderfully quirky couple?”

“But we have more time,” Beckie complains, “and I’m multi-or—”

“Yes, dear, you sure are multi-talented,” Livia says. “Beckie, ladies and gentlemen! They say after her SATs, a turnip tried to sue her for stolen valor! And George, our Disco Daddy of Deranged Degeneracy! Everyone, give a big round of applause for our first couple, the sprint racers of the romance circuit! Put them together and watch the sparks fly like Madonna visiting the Vatican!”

This is actually bad. Unlike the coin game in the first Decan, this is intended to be a real contest. We gave people a real phone number to dial in and everything. And Livia just cut off contestants at the seven minute mark. Neither seems to be angry as she hustles them offstage, but the crowd does seem confused. I feel sorry for Beckie, who — regardless of how relatable she may or may not be to whatever demographic Livia wants — was enjoying the contest exactly the way we hoped some girls would be able to. I even feel a bit sorry for weirdo George, assuming he was a weirdo and not trying to punk our show. Not too sorry, though — he’s probably spending the night with Beckie, after all.

But Livia made up her mind, and the last thing I’m going to do is undercut her on stage. I use some jokes and patter to cover the time until she gets back. On the tapes, you can — if you look carefully — see Beckie looking smug while being led away after getting a rise out of Livia. I completely miss it in the moment, however.

Amanda and Alan are on stage next. I actually get Amanda to sit first and Alan goes in her lap. I don’t want to single Amanda out for her height, but the whole thing will go smoother if they’re eye to eye and she’d just tower over him if they sat like the first couple. Alan straddles Amanda just like Beckie straddled George, but acts bashful about the faintly lewd position. Good play — he knows when to make a move and how to “defuse” tension from doing so. Amanda seems pleased, and wraps her hands around his muscular, ripped torso.

Alan throws out a scenario where he’s a powerful business magnate with a tortured past and Amanda is a secretary that he’s always been a bit fixated on. She listens quietly and seems to like it. He’s actually probably the most adept of the five dudes at working with the tropes of erotic romance. His character is masculine, but not hyper-dominant, injured from past relationships and ambivalent about his attraction to an underling. Nicely done!

He’s keeping it focused on the male character’s perspective, but in an exploratory rather than narcissistic way. He describes things he likes about Amanda, working in her figure but not obsessing over it. He takes until the ten minute mark to get steamy, but when he does he gets really rude with it. The actual prose sex is vanilla, but he delivers the narration with real intensity and force — and constant eye contact. Sitting on her lap, he can look ever so slightly down on her, which is probably a new experience for her.

Amanda is melting, and it’s honestly deeply hot to watch. He gets to a bit where his character tears her shirt, and she almost subconsciously reaches up and unfastens the straps on her dress. I remember the brief, single-tit glimpse we got of Amanda naked during the balloon routine, and how great she looked in a wet t-shirt. Great, but detached. Well, she’s not detached now — she’s not out of control with lust, but she’s more turned on by far than she was at either the wet t-shirt or balloon bikini shows.

I wonder if she knows what she’s doing and wants to tease Alan, or just wants to live out the vulnerability of her fantasy character, or maybe wants to mix business and pleasure by teasing the audience a bit. Regardless, her dress comes down and a minute later her bra is off. I’m a bit aroused — I truthfully like Beckie better, just for her fun and enthusiasm; Livia, however, is transfixed. Alan does not get rattled, but does ratchet up the intensity a bit.

By the thirteenth minute Amanda is staring very aggressively and sexually at Alan, her cheeks flushed, a faint sheen of sweat on her torso. It’s actually very erotic — Amanda has fairly obvious bolt-ons, but it’s incredible how good even bad fake tits can look when backlit by the glow of real arousal. As the clock hits fourteen minutes, Alan’s narrative covers the secretary’s intense orgasm upon consummating her forbidden tryst with the magnate. Beckie has rather unsubtly established that girls could get off from this verbal game, setting up our intended context rather more bluntly than we would have liked.

Amanda closes her eyes and exhales deeply, at the very least acting out a subtle female climax. There’s a spare minute left for Alan to include an actual romantic epilogue to his narrative, which is nice — something no one else thought of, and oddly prescient really. Ironically, for the sake of drama and poignancy, the imaginary couple were never again able to see each other after their one passionate tryst.

Did Amanda get off for real? The truth is, I have no idea — and given that you can look up real names for this couple fairly easily, it’s probably not my place to speculate. But I can say this: Amanda Deering and Alan Hartman will get married about a year after the Trips wraps up, and are still quite happy together as of this writing. He’s no longer in construction; they’ve both still modeling, and he publishes some rather rude poetry. They’ve told the story of how they met to fans on Usenet, so I can’t very well leave out my perspective on events here.

They are apparently quite open swingers now, but like a mirror inverse of me and Livia, they only play with bi-guys. They’re a lot more sexually reserved than the Trips crew, mind you — they get to know the guys they play with, and it apparently takes several dates and real charm to get into their bedroom. I don’t know either of them personally — but it’s both nice and vaguely weird that our brazenly perverted show helped two people create a lasting union.

Next up are Rick and Laura. He sets up a scenario where he’s a kid from the wrong side of the tracks in the 1950s and she’s a desirable rich man’s daughter, and he sneaks into said father’s mansion and has sex with her while keeping it secret from said family downstairs. It’s... okay. I’m not going into great depth here for two reasons. First of all, we never found Laura and don’t know who she is. She’s the one whose face is blurred on the N-VHS release. Secondly, from my perspective, it’s just a fairly tepid rehash of the “claiming the forbidden fruit” scenario — and if you want that, go back and re-read my encounter with Cathy!

It’s not hard to see why a stock Harlequin plot isn’t going to do much for someone who got Cathy in real life. Rick is, honestly, not all that in the charisma department either. I’m not being vain here; in my eyes he gets outshone by Alan, Juan and Lorenzo. He seemed better when he was with us, mouthier — macking a bit on Livia while shooting preppie-competitive sarcasm at me. I think the problem is, when he shows up to the contest he’s trying to be nicer, more wholesome and more clean-cut than he really is — and it costs him in the personality department. Why the obvious preppie tries to take on the persona of a rough kid I’ll never know — he clearly does not have the life experience to make it believable.

Laura takes cues from Beckie and Amanda, though, and is horny to begin with, so she’s actively trying to get herself off. She’s exactly what we wanted: an everyday girl in search of a sexual adventure on Spring Break. I wish we paired her with someone else in retrospect, honestly, someone kinkier and a bit more hardcore — we might have seen some real sparks fly! She does try to get off, right on his lap, grinding a bit, gasping more as an exercise to get herself in the mood than due to losing control. I have no idea if she actually gets off, again. Maybe. It isn’t a “best ever” deal, but it turns out to be what we need.

I will also toss in one prurient detail here for my male readers. It’s Florida, the sun is hot, Laura is aroused and grinds on Rick. (Yes, he gets a boner, but that’s not what I’m into.) She worked up more than a bit of a sweat. So, I mentioned the thin white shirt, right? She kept rubbing it and pressing it against her body, and there are some really nice see-through looks at a cute but everyday kind of girl who’s actively aroused and consciously trying to get herself off in public. It’s no scandal or anything — I would be shocked to learn Laura was in only one wet t-shirt contest during that Spring Break — but it’s still kind of hot. So that’s nice — but not the best it could have been.

Next up is Juan and Wendy. Now, as I’ve said, Wendy’s in her bodyglove. It’s tight, and I can see nipples. (So can you, on the newer, remastered N-VHS releases.) Before their time starts up, she politely says she’s hot and asks if she can take some clothes off. Juan seems fine, so I say sure. She strips off the bodyglove. I had made the assumption there was a bikini underneath. Well, I’m half right — the bottom half, as it turns out. Nice! I have no complaints. I can see the thrill on her face as she strips down, and I’m sure she intends to follow the other girls with a quite genuine orgasm.

I... really can’t begin to describe the scenario Juan dreams up here. It’s on an alien planet, and the men and women are segregated by gender and have antennas like bees, and the protagonists are some kind of psychedelic visionaries who are able to re-awaken a whole world’s sexuality, but it causes some kind of chain reaction that leads to volcanic eruptions. And then the protagonists somehow stop the volcanoes erupting by using sympathetic magic and out-fucking them. I think.

Whatever the hell this is, it doesn’t come out of the Harlequin cliches we fed him — it’s really artistic. I think it may have been lightly inspired by French animation director Rene Laloux, or the recent Bakshi animated flop Fire and Ice — I don’t know this yet, but I’ll later learn that Laloux inspired Juan’s van murals from the video we have of them. I do a bit of research when writing this.

One point of interest — Wendy’s princess character has a sexy mom, the literal queen bee; Juan describes her as sultry and seductive, dressing in diaphanous white clothing, scheming to save the planet by orchestrating the protagonists’ sexual union... and bathing in liquid honey. I vaguely wonder if Juan saw Livia’s half-time show and remembers it fondly. He’s not much for pacing, and we let him go well over the fifteen minutes. Nobody minds; Juan’s kind of spellbinding as a storyteller even leaving out the erotic bits.

But we can’t leave out the erotic bits. Wendy wouldn’t want that! She is just as uninhibited as I pegged her. She sits in his lap, listening. She’s clearly really taken with the narrative. When the protagonists flirt, her nipples get hard. The first time they fuck, she bites her lip and her thighs tremble and she quite clearly, unmistakably, comes. The second encounter isn’t purely vocal. She slides her hand down and rubs her pussy, flicking her clit. From her body language I can’t tell if she’s being consciously naughty or just spellbound. I can’t say Juan keeps his composure perfectly, but he does push on... and probably makes the encounter a bit more hardcore than it was going to otherwise be. And then, the most amazing thing happens. Juan, for whatever reason, throws in some anal sex. Keep in mind, the guys weren’t on stage for the first Decan — they were in a hypnotrance, listening to romance novel passages. So it has to be pure coincidence.

I’m expecting Wendy to freak, get flustered and leave. I almost stop the thing right there — but Wendy’s Aura pulses and throbs. She’s perched in Juan’s lap. She seems transfixed by the story. Her face is a mask of desire. She puts her left finger in her mouth and licks it thoroughly. She stares into Juan’s eyes. He keeps talking, forcefully now, intermixing language describing literal volcanoes wracking a planet, the protagonists fucking and, well, volcanic sex metaphors to bridge the gap. Wendy is straddling him just like Beckie straddled George. Her ass is facing the audience. It’s a pretty nice, full, muscular surfer-girl ass, covered by only a sweat-soaked barely-there bikini bottom. Wendy reaches her hand around, without breaking eye contact with Juan, and slides her long wet finger right into her asshole!

I am absolutely shocked. So is Livia. Juan might not be able to see the action, but he quickly figures out what she’s doing. The audience sure knows — there’s nothing subtle about it, and Wendy is totally nonchalant about the whole matter — both during and after. I remember her shocked, scandalized face when (I suspect that) she had been accidentally, briefly penetrated earlier — I had been sure this was new to her. Well, maybe it was new, and given a bit of time to think she decided it was really nice. I have no idea, honestly. When viewed in context, it’s one of the most batshit sexual things I’ve ever seen a girl do.

I don’t need to tell you she gets off, do I? Because she does — and it’s intense. Her orgasm is oddly quiet and devoid of melodrama or pretension, punctuated by a moment of dead air as Juan just stares into her eyes. But her whole body trembles and her mouth is open in a silent moan, and her huge tits jiggle amazingly nicely, and I can see her thighs tremble even more than the rest of her.

The audience is oddly quiet after Juan and Wendy’s performance. There is one thing that sticks in my mind, however. I doubt my own memory at first. I go back over our raw footage to confirm it. During the whole Make Her Blush contest, the one woman given by far the strongest motive to blush... never actually does so. I can’t begin to tell you why. Wendy seems so oddly mellow — obviously horny, yet discordantly serene. I like to think I’m better than most men at understanding women, but with Wendy I can’t even begin to get a handle.

Regardless, the final couple is Lorenzo and Michelle, our moonshot. Well, that was our plan, but at this point there’s no way even the stunner Michelle can top what comparatively-plain Wendy just pulled. She doesn’t... but as it turns out she sure comes close. Michelle takes my hand as I walk her to the chair, just as Livia does for Lorenzo. She’s actually really aroused. I did not expect that. I wonder if Wendy and Juan’s show hit a primal nerve with her.

“You know,” she says, “like Wendy said, it is pretty hot out and this dress will get a bit sticky. Can I wear a little less clothing too?”

Well, I can’t really say no to one after saying yes to the other, can I? Not that I remotely want to. So Michelle strips off her little black dress and folds it up. She looks amazing in her underwear, probably because she’s still just a little bit shy, it’s pretty lacy and she’s obviously aroused. Amanda, Laura and Wendy give her applause after she strips, and the crowd quickly joins in. She’s... definitely worthy. I’m surprised the girls started it, though — there is a spirit of camaraderie rather than competition here. I don’t think they care too much who wins, they’re just enjoying the ambiance and lust.

Lorenzo sits down. Michelle straddles him. She’s just a lot classier than him, even in her underwear. He’s built, though, and she runs her hands over his torso and around under his leather jacket. He flashes her a cocky and lecherous grin; she’s vaguely repulsed, but covers it well.

We start the timer. Like George, Lorenzo doesn’t really have a story. He talks about seeing her in a club and knowing right away she’s an untamed cougar looking for a firm hand. He seems to be annoying her. To his credit, he’s speaking quite confidently and firmly. They get to the naughty bits about two minutes in. She’s getting kissed all over. He uses a knife to cut her clothing off piece by piece until she’s in her underwear. He uses a loaded gun to tease her sexually and to threaten her, like in all the cheap Cinemax thrillers. Michelle is hard to read, but I think she’s a combination of annoyed and mildly turned on. She isn’t blushing yet.

As he starts to describe more foreplay actions, he’s drawing on the phrases and vocabulary we gave him in trance. Of the five contestants, Juan was entirely Juan, and the other three benefited — but Lorenzo is the most “made” by us. He was already literate and well-spoken, but we taught him to be naughty, in an explicit way, with words. This seems to be working for Michelle. He describes toying with her bra with his knife... and she reaches up to the bra and unfastens it, giving him a competitive smile. The crowd cheers. He narrates how he reaches up and then pulls off the bra forcefully, shocking her — and performs the same action in real life. She doesn’t seem shocked, but just smiles at him. Michelle has an amazing rack: perfectly-shaped natural C-cups that jiggle like jello in contrast to how fit, toned and tight the rest of her body is.

Lorenzo is cocky as fuck. As soon as he gets her bra off, he starts moving the narrative to her panties. When he describes sliding the knife into their band, she stands up and slides them down, then sits back straddling him. I did not expect that — I did not expect her to go full frontal, and I really did not expect her to resume a spread-leg pose after doing so. She looks directly into his eyes and gives him a bit of the sultry smolder she was showing earlier with the modeling poses. This time, though, there’s no neon balloon bikini to render them faintly absurd. I get what she’s doing — he’s arrogant, and his narrative with the violent symbolism could be both off-putting and erotic at the same time. She’s using her own sex appeal, testing him, trying to fluster him. She’s staring into his eyes with a direct, fuck me stare.

Lorenzo doesn’t crack, though. Livia hypnotized these men specifically not to get all stammery. I suspect he would normally, but what he actually does is go more into a trance state and just start stringing erotic phrases together with a deep intensity in his voice. She’s... not immune to this. She closes her eyes, and when she does so seems to go more into the fantasy and get more aroused. It takes a while; several minutes pass with her eyes closed and him just describing them fucking in vivid (albeit canned) sensory detail.

Going back over the N-VHS footage, I can see continuity errors in what he’s saying — she’s wearing different clothes at times, sex positions change without notice — because at this point he’s just stringing together things he heard in trance. He probably is rattled inside, but the hypnosis stays in effect. It doesn’t matter to her — she’s visualizing what he says unskeptically, and is getting carried away by it. There’s a deep flush in her cheeks now.

She opens her eyes and turns on her signature smolder. It’s a gimmick for her the way Eyefucking is for me, but — just like me — she can still use it just fine when genuinely turned on. She moves a leg, repositioning slightly so that she’s sitting directly on one of his legs. She pulls him closer and starts to grind her naked pussy on his black leather pants. Well, folks, this is it — the one we were all waiting for. It’s eleven minutes in and we’re clearly about to watch Michelle Morris have a rather nice orgasm.

It’s not quite in the spirit of the whole thing — Livia wanted to see men get women off using just words, and thought that would strike a chord with female viewers. Michelle’s clearly getting off by grinding her pussy on Lorenzo’s pants — but the fantasy at least got her to do that in public!

Michelle hugs Lorenzo tightly as she grinds, bringing her face right close to his. He keeps talking, clearly running on only hypnotic imperative. She’s staring at him, pumping raw sex into him. Her ass is pointed directly at the audience and it looks great, covered with sweat, cheeks pulsing, as she grinds Lorenzo’s legs. Her orgasm lasts a good twenty seconds, and he keeps speaking at the beginning. He just... cuts out halfway through. I wonder if they are finished at the thirteen minute mark. After a while I presume so, as does Livia.

“That was our final couple of the evening, Lorenzo and Michelle! Why don’t you all give them a hand!”

Michelle stands up. She’s covered with sweat and her hair is disheveled — and she’s buck naked and not being overly discreet about keeping her legs together. We get some zoom-in footage, and it’s pretty glorious — she’s basking in afterglow, shameless, naked, nipples erect and absolutely ravishing. She glances down at Lorenzo as he stands up and gets a very naughty, shocked smile, covering her mouth and laughing. She’s not the only one who came — there are massive cum stains spreading down one of Lorenzo’s pant legs. (There’s also a big wet spot where her pussy was, but that’s less notable.) As soon as the crowd sees this, they burst into peals of laughter. Michelle smirks and gives him a kind of cocky, playful shrug.

There’s an obvious double standard here. When the girls get off, it’s wildly treasured. The guys really want to see it, and I think even other women might project into the performer a bit, at least if men are present to set the “this is really erotic” subtext and the audience girls can relate to the lady having her moment. When guys cream their pants, conversely, it’s comedic, shameful and emasculating. I’m not sure how much I buy into that, personally — Michelle is really hot, and in other circumstances if I were in Lorenzo’s place I might just let myself come to enjoy the experience, regardless of people laughing at me. (Not tonight, obviously — I have bigger game in my sights — but if I were in his position in general.)

I wonder how much of this Michelle orchestrated or planned. She was clearly a bit annoyed by his pomp and intro, and seems like a competitive lady, and now she’s radiating smug self-confidence and playful wit. If this was some kind of sexual arm-wrestling between her and Lorenzo, she clearly won. I lead her backstage, leaving Livia to contend with an increasingly unruly and belligerent Lorenzo — his punctured ego turns to aggression, but he has no one to point it at. I don’t think he’ll get angry at Livia, but he might at a perceived male competitor.

Michelle wraps an arm around my waist as we walk. “That was a wonderful game,” she says. “I had a lot of fun playing. I’d like to try it with you sometime.”

Righteous! I guess I’m not just a perceived competitor. Sorry, Lorenzo. “We do have more intimate versions, but they can sometimes get a bit... naughtier.”

She smolders at me. “Well, I’m free later tonight. Are you?”

For a second I’m tempted. But, no, I can’t. “Not tonight, I’m afraid.”

“I’m out of town tomorrow,” she says. I’m not sure if that’s true, but she is interested in exercising sexual influence in any case.

“Would you be interested in later shows?”

“Sure,” she says. “I normally work in L.A. — and I’m not as averse to mixing business and pleasure as some models. Indeed, at times, I positively relish it.”

Sorry, babe. Any other night I’d bang your lovely brains out. Tonight, though... not tonight.

Before we move on to the quite exciting third Decan, O Sentimental Readers, let me get all achronal with you and give you a brief epilogue concerning Brenda. There is no hookup with her, this Spring Break or at any later time (at least, as of this writing). Despite her enthusiastic and shameless work on a balloon cock, she is not in fact the kind of girl that does hookups. The third Decan somewhat obliterates my memory of her for the next day or two, but I do track down her phone number near the end of Spring Break. We have a two-hour conversation that is both very personal at times, and also quite steamy at others.

What Brenda did on stage was way outside her normal sexual boundaries. She seems immensely happy that she did it, yet not eager to repeat it. Apparently, she fled Summers after the first Decan and regrets missing the “Make Her Blush” contest. I am able to give her a personal review, however, playing the role of the male contestant. I can’t see her face, but I’m still pretty sure I make her blush — and come — a lot. I’m not going to say much about her personal life, because unlike a lot of the other girls in here she’s not a real libertine, and thus it’s... well, personal. I will say, however, that over time — during the Trips and after it was all past — we bond to a degree. We become friends, and pen pals, who share some steamy phone calls when the other is depressed.

I don’t normally do phone sex. I pull model-hot girls out of bars on a pretty much weekly basis, and have a Rolodex full of lifestyle hedonists and centerfolds. Why would I? Brenda is different, and it’s not something I do as an obligation. Nor can I really explain it, other than that her sheer lust seems contagious. I enjoy it, and I genuinely can’t tell you why. She knows full well how wildly promiscuous I am. She has no desire to add that to her life, but accepts it as a thing from me. She’s single, and has personal reasons to stay single. I really don’t have a good explanation for why I still do this, other than that I enjoy it, and I like Brenda. She’s become, over the years, a good friend.

And, as the motto of my life could very well be, if you enjoy something and it’s not hurting anyone, why not do it?