The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Okay Jessica, you retard, answer the damned cell!” Genevieve flipped her phone closed and gritted her teeth. She had followed Preston through Sporting Goods, Automotive, and Menswear and was starting to think he was trying to lose her with a testosterone tour through departments where women dare not tread. But damned if she was going to give up before he opened up about what the hell he found so funny about Jessica and Heather and women’s clothes.

Besides, he was fucking gorgeous. Especially from behind. In those jeans...

“I don’t think Pat’s in here,” he admitted, finally, as he admired the tuxes. “I wonder if I ought to buy or rent.”

“Huh?” Her eyes suddenly darted from his bubble butt over to a nearby rack of ties for fear that he’d actually glance her way.

“For the prom, you dumbass. It’s not too early to start thinking.”

About who to take? She wanted to kick herself. What was the subject again? Bubble butts? Oh, yeah, tuxedos. “I guess,” she said, fumbling with that dumb lock of hair again. She wanted to yank it out; she looked and felt so much like a total retard. “I’m sure it’ll look good.” Then she went back to looking at the ties. Way to go, total dumbass.

“Still can’t get Jessica on the phone?” He glanced around the section, like he expected her to pop up in the underwear aisle next to the boxer shorts and tube socks.

“No,” she answered, secretly happy he changed the subject to something she could actually pay attention to. “I’m starting to get worried. I’m her ride.”

“Then I guess you ought to go look for her, then.” He smiled like it was meant as a joke, and she got that nagging feeling he was trying to lose her again.

“Uh, yeah, maybe.” She flipped open her phone again, mainly to give her something to stare at other than him. “Last I saw her; she was in women’s wear trying on clothes.”

“Great, then, you go look for her and I’ll try and...” he stopped in mid-sentence. “Uh, on second thought, I’ll come with you.”

She continued staring at the phone. “Uh, okay. If you want.” She felt the tuft of hair flop down in front of her nose again, but knew he was looking at her. Pretending to be doing something productive, she kept staring at the phone and started pushing buttons at random while she walked.

I wonder why he changed his mind, she asked herself—just before she ran headlong into a floor sign advertising pleated skirts. Grabbing the sign to keep it from falling over, she accidently dropped her phone and tried her best to keep from dying as Preston laughed his head off. “Ten percent off? Not bad,” she muttered, red-faced, while she stooped down to retrieve her phone.

“Can I help you?” The salesgirl with bleached blonde hair walked over and pulled the sign back to where it was supposed to be.

“Uh, no,” Genevieve replied, scanning the store for Jess, Pat, Heather, the store manager, the clerks, and half the shoppers in the mall who were all surely running over to gawk at the loser who almost knocked over the dumb store sign because she was too much of a retard to chance Preston Sterling catching her eye. “Just looking for someone.”

“Let me guess,” the woman said with an audible sigh. “Heather, right? Just like her boyfriend and the other skinny kid.”

Gen was just about to make a snide comment when Preston spoke up. “Nerdy guy? Black hair? Glasses?”

“Yeah, Heather goes on break and suddenly she’s Miss Popular. I told them both she was back in that new changing area with...”

“Oh, okay, that’s fine,” Preston interrupted quite loudly before the woman could finish. He grabbed Gen by the shoulders and started to hustle her off in the direction of the nearest street exit. “Thanks.”

Not that she necessarily minded being manhandled by a guy she had constant daydreams about, but Genevieve suddenly found herself a lot more interested in Heather, Pat Hawthorne and women’s clothing than she was just seconds ago. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.” He was pulling her now. “I just figured that maybe...”

“Okay, dumbass.” Gen stopped and dug her heels in. “Something weird is going on here. She brought a hand up to her face and started counting the fingers. “First, Jess disappears. Second, Pat disappears. Third, mysterious back room. Fourth...” She thought for a moment. “Nawwwww. She wouldn’t. Would she?”

Before Preston could react, she turned and ran back towards the blonde woman, who was busy wiping dust or something off her slacks. “Hey, where is this changing thingee again?”

“Back over there, but Heather’s on break and...”

“No problem,” Gen laughed as she darted off in the direction of the stockroom.

Preston stood there, befuddled for a moment, then shot off after her. “Thanks.” He snapped at the clerk. “Thanks a lot.”

“Whatever, dude.” The saleswoman scowled at him as he ran by, and then went back to getting the dust off her pants. “Like it’s my fault you can’t control your girlfriend.”

Genevieve rushed through the shoe section and only spent a split second checking out the pair of black pumps on special at thirty percent off. Out of the corner of her eye. As she walked. Didn’t even stop. “Gawd, could this day get any weirder?” she muttered under her breath as she came to the swinging doors. “Thirty percent off.”

Priorities, girl, priorities, she fought to remind herself. Her BFF could be back here in the dark being raped by some debate school nerd boy and a ditzy blowjob prom queen. For some reason, she found that hot. Evil thoughts, girl, evil. Stop it.

She slowly stuck her head through the doors and looked around. “Heloooooo! Jess? Anyone home?”

“Um,” Preston snuck up behind her, “Someone’s gonna get in trouble.”

“Yeah, if anything’s happened to her, I’ll sue the crapola out of this place.” She stuck her head in further, peering off down a dimly-lit hallway. “My dad knows the mayor, you know.”

He reached out and grabbed her by the elbow. “You’re just being silly. She probably just went down to the food court or something.”

“Whoever heard of putting a changing room in the back room of a store, anyway?” Gen crept through the doors, but didn’t try and shake off his hand. It was kinda scary back there. Plus, well, duh, his hand was on her elbow. “You coming or do I have to go back here by myself?”

“Okay,” he sighed. “But I still think you’re being silly. Why don’t we go over to the food court and look for her.” He hesitated for a second. “On me.”

She stopped. “Hmm?” She looked down the corridor again. Looked at her watch. Tugged at her ear. Finally, she straightened up. “Well...”

“Maybe a movie.” He tugged slightly on her elbow, rubbing his thumb tenderly across the underside of her arm. “I hear the latest Aptow thing is really, really funny.”

She flipped her phone open and pressed the speed-dial, hoping that tones would cover the sound of the bongos going off in her chest. “Well, maybe she DID go to get something to...”

Suddenly both of them jumped a bit when the Scooby Doo ringtone went off behind the black door of a room slightly down the corridor, followed a half-second later by the muffled thud of bare flesh against sheetrock and something that sounded like a mix between a moan and a muffled scream. Evidently, Jessica never learned the first rule about having kinky sex in a pseudo-public place: put your cell phone on vibrate.

“Ohmigod!” Gen yelped, then immediately jerked her hand away from Preston and used it to cover her mouth. “Ohmigod,” she repeated, softly, as if absolutely no one heard her the first time. Her face was pink and well on the way to radish red.

Slowly, she started to back out through the doors, reaching behind her to make sure Preston was still there, halfway hoping he’d stop her and halfway hoping he’d grab her and whisk her off to somewhere where she’d never, ever have to explain to her bestest friend why she was snooping around in the first place. But mainly she was hoping he was just...there.

Unfortunately for her, what she felt wasn’t Preston.

“And just what in the hell are YOU doing back here?!”

Heather looked pissed. Well, more pissed than usual. Genevieve spun around quickly and looked for Preston, but he was nowhere in sight. She swallowed hard and tried to make the best of it. “We were, I mean, I was looking for Jessica. One of the women out there said...”

“I don’t care what the fuck someone out there said, only employees are allowed back here.”

Gen blew at the tuft of hair hovering around her nose and managed to move it an inch or so. She cocked her head and threw back her shoulders. “Geez, okay, don’t get all pissy, okay?” Any fear she might’ve had over the admittedly awkward situation was rapidly vanishing, because being cussed out by an ex-stripper blow job queen over the finer points of department store etiquette was just the kind of thing that brought out the pose. “Whoever decided to put a dressing room in the back room of a Mervyns with all the spider webs and shit anyway? It probably isn’t even legal.”

She expected Heather to get all red and come back with some kind of heat, but was actually kind of relieved when she just stood there for a moment, thinking. “Maybe you ought to just leave,” Heather replied, finally, stepping aside and holding open one of the swinging doors.

“Maybe you ought to, you know, go jump off a bridge.” Genevieve stood her ground and pointed over to the black door. “I’m waiting for Jess.”

Knowing just a little about posing her own self, Heather put her hands on her hips and let the door swing shut. “Then you can wait outside somewhere, little girl. Don’t EVEN make me call security on your ass!”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d just LOVE to check out the hook-up room, huh?” As if on cue, there was yet another moan from behind the “changing room” door somewhere, followed by a dull thud of something rather heavy hitting the floor back there. “At least now we know how and where you got this job!”

Heather took one step forward and was just about to raise it to another level on general principle, when the whole “moan-thud” thing registered. Not to mention the part about how she got the job. She suddenly stopped and glanced over to the black door, her face losing a bit of color.

Gen, meanwhile, was too focused on the sound of her own teenaged wit to notice anything else, and moved in for a series of verbal body blows.

“What’s a matter, Heather F? Too close, huh? Hit you where you live?”

Just as Genevieve was about to deliver the coup de disrespect (something about having to blow the security guard, manager AND the cops that showed up after she got her ass kicked), several things happened, pretty much at the same time. The swinging doors opened from the outside and Preston and Calvin both stuck their heads through to see what all the yelling was about. Heather backed up against the wall next to the doors and stood there gaping wide-eyed in the direction of the changing room because the black door suddenly opened and Pat Hawthorne was standing there outside it with his pants and boxers down around his ankles, his glasses up on his head, and both hands over his junk.

“It’s...it’s not my fault. I swear!”

He bent down and tried to pull up his pants—and promptly fell down face forward onto the carpet.

Genevieve suddenly remembered why she was there in the first place, and it wasn’t to dis Heather. Putting one hand up to cover her eyes in order to avoid having to live the rest of her life with the image of the half naked nerd boy branded into her memory, she rushed past him through the newly opened door.

“Omigodomigodomigod! Jess?”

Face up on the carpet, seemingly unconscious, with an absolutely huge smile grafted on her face, laid Jessica. Or at least she thought it was Jessica. She had Jessica’s hair. And Jessica’s feet. And Jessica’s nose, ears, eyes and chin. And Jessica’s new tatoo. But everything else...well, she figured somewhere out there in the big wild world, a few porn stars must’ve been wondering where their various body parts went. She was naked, except for that damned evil red corset.

“I swear,” she heard a whimper behind her. “It wasn’t my fault.”

For the first time in years, Genevieve wished she’d actually paid attention in Miss Summer’s health class, at least on the day she had the cute paramedic come in to talk about CPR. Or, more accurately, wish she’d paid attention to anything he actually SAID. She bent down and felt a little pang of guilt because the first thing that came to mind was honestly hoping she wouldn’t have to massage her BFF’s heart because she didn’t think she could get to it through all the new boob stuff.

“It wasn’t my fault.” The whimper was closer, but barely audible now, a sad improvement.

“Oh, shut up, you retard. You know CPR?” She swiped her hair out of her face and stuck her ear over Jessica’s mouth, remembering having seen someone on TV do it once to feel if someone’s still breathing. Or hear if someone’s still breathing. Or something.

“Uh, no. She’s not, uh, dead, is she?”

If he wasn’t much help, at least his vocabulary was expanding. She felt him leaning over her, which only made the scene that much more uncomfortable. Gen grabbed one of Jess’s arms and tried to remember where it was you were supposed to check for a pulse. Elbow? Wrist? Oh, yeah, wrist. “Get away from me, you dumbass. What happened?”

Pat moved around to the other side of the tiny room and bent down. Lucky for Gen, he’d managed to get his pants back on. “She just, uh, fainted, I guess. It sounds really stupid, I know, but she just was sounding like she was having all kinds of fun and then she just keeled over.”

Gen thought she felt a pulse, but really had no clue. “Go be useful and get Heather or Preston or somebody!” she yelled, then put her head back over Jessica’s mouth like she had some real idea about what she was doing. That smile on Jess’ face was just creeping her out. It was like she just had nasty, ugly sex with the Joker or something. She felt a shiver run down her neck, which is pretty much the reaction you’d expect from someone bending over a naked hot female body while thinking about Joker sex. Geez, you’re evil, she told herself.

Then she heard something. Jess was breathing now. Definitely breathing. Hard.

And whispering.

She bent down closer. “Jess?”

“Gen?” Jess opened her eyes.

“God, Jess, you okay?” She could feel Jessica’s body moving a bit now. Her massive chest was stirring.

“Gen?”

She bent closer, craning her neck to hear. She felt Jess grab her gently by the wrist and slowly tighten up. “Yes?”

“Gawd, you’re hot.”

Genevieve let out a little yelp, and tried to jump to her feet, but Jessica wouldn’t let go of her wrist, so she only got so far as her knees. “Okay, who are you and what did you do with Jess? Seriously, do NOT scare me like that!”

Jessica reached out and grabbed her other hand. “Teehee, c’mon, give Snow White a kiss.”

Gen didn’t know what was more disturbing—the vacant smile, the kiss thing, or the fact that Jessica Garcia was giggling like a ten-year old kid. Something was SERIOUSLY fucked up here. “C’mon, Jess, don’t be so retarded. You’re scaring me here.”

Jessica let go of one of Gen’s wrists and quickly snaked the arm around the back of her friend’s neck. “C’mon, just one kiss?”

To Genevieve’s relief, Jessica didn’t try really hard to fight as the taller girl finally managed to tear herself away and quickly stood up. “What the hell is WRONG with you?” Jess didn’t answer, but laid there giggling uncontrollably. Gen threw up her hands and slowly backed towards the door. “Okay, this is now officially the stupidest day of my life!”

“Mine too,” she heard Pat whine from somewhere close behind her.

“Aaaaaaaaahhh!” Gen shrieked and turned sideways in the doorway, bending over and wrapping her arms around her waist. “Don’t fucking DO that!!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He peered through the door and noticed Jessica was now sitting up and cupping her humongous boobs, one in each hand, and was admiring herself in the mirror. “How is she?”

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Genevieve balled up a fist and shook it in his general direction.

“Me?!” Pat did a double take. “She attacked ME!”

“Cha, yeah, riiiiight!”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not. I was just, you know, coming back here to see if she was, uh, okay and the next thing I know, she pulled me in here and started, well, you know. Then she started, uh, playing with herself and keeled right over.”

“Yeah, yeah, right. You can explain that to...” Genevieve stopped in mid-sentence and looked around. “Where’d everyone go?”

“Hell if I know,” Pat shrugged. “They all just disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Gen stuck her head out of the room. “Maybe they went to get help.”

Pat pushed past her and out of the room. “I doubt that. Then they’d have to explain about the cam...” He stopped in mid-sentence.

“The what?” Genevieve started to follow him as he tilted his head up and made his way around the outside of the room.

Pat stopped suddenly and peered up at something. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m dead.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Pat ignored her and ran back into the room. “We need to get the hell out of here.” He went over to Jessica and bent down. “Hey, Jessica, we need to...”

“Yes we do,” Jessica interrupted him, one hand grabbing at his butt and the other reaching for his fly again. Genevieve fought the urge to hurl.

Pat backed away from them and barely maintained his balance as he leaned against a wall. He looked over at Gen. “What the hell is up with HER?”

“How the hell should I know?” Genevieve stood in the doorway and felt a chill. Jessica was bending down on her hands and knees and her boobs were almost dragging against the floor and it looked like she was actually watching herself in the mirror as they swung back and forth. Then it hit her; about four minutes after it would’ve dawned on just about anyone else given the circumstances. “I bet it’s that stupid corset.”

“Corset?”

“Yeah. From the crazy old witch lady.” Gen peered at it, partly because she’d never really seen it up close and personal before now, but mostly because it took her eyes off of the rest of her BFF, who had turned over onto her back and was now gyrating perversely, as if posing for photo shoot with an invisible pornographer. Err, photographer.

“I thought you were just goofing with Preston. I mean, whoever heard of a magic corset? I mean, who even WEARS corsets unless they’re into kinky stuff.”

“Duh. You really think she lost fifty pounds and half her fucking IQ in the couple months since school ended? Geez. And they call ME dumb.”

Genevieve leaned to one side and bent her head to see if she could get a better look at the sadistic garment. She’d only seen corsets in pictures before so she wasn’t exactly an expert, but even then there was something about this one that seemed odd. And Jess’s body was even stranger now than it was less than an hour ago when she left her in the ladies’ wear section. Her boobs were even bigger and her waist was just ridiculously small in comparison to her butt. “Something is definitely wrong here,” she blurted out, in yet another example of what Jessica used to call ‘a Genevieve moment.’

“A magic corset of bimbo possession,” Pat mused, suddenly lost in his own little world. “I wonder if that one’s ever been used in a movie before?” He looked down at Jess, who was currently up on her knees, with her body bent back and boobs aimed straight at him. “Showtime. Definitely, 2am on Showtime.”

“Gawd, you’re so retarded!” Gen swiped at his shoulder. “Help me get that thing off her,” she said, her mouth moving two seconds before her brain could catch up. “I mean, help me get it off. I mean...well, shit, you know what I mean.”

“I dunno, this kind of thing never ends well in the movies.” Pat put a hand to his chin. “She might grow fangs or something.”

“Listen, you nerd retard. If you don’t help, I’ll be the one with the fangs.”

He looked at her, strangely. She looked at him, looking at her, thinking what movie nerds would probably be thinking after that line. So she squinted at him nastily, opened her mouth and gave him an evil hiss that made him jump a half-foot in the air and backed him up against the wall.

“Okay, okay,” he yelped.

Gawd, she thought, nerd retards are so easy to figure out. Unlike football players.

Genevieve looked down at Jessica writhing around on the floor, grinding her butt against the lone chair in the room and making some fairly obscene noises. She’d never been one for horror movies, but suddenly “The Evil Corset That Ate my BFF” sounded pretty accurate. She turned to Pat. “You distract her and I’ll try and see if I can get it off.”

“Distract her? How?”

“Just, I dunno, distract her. Go over to that side of the room and say something nerdy.”

“Like a nerd call?”

“Yeah.”

“In geek speak, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Something like ‘LOL, STFU, you win the internets,’ right?”

“Uh, now you’re just being retarded.”

“Oh, I’M being retarded?”

“Fine. Would you rather ME try and distract her and YOU try and get that thing off her?”

“Hell, I’ve never even SEEN one of those things before. I have no clue...”

“Well, then, DUH?!!! Go say something nerdy and distract her.”

She stood there with her fists balled up on her waist and watched Pat as he crunched the numbers in his head and came to the obvious conclusion—the solution to the equation was to surrender to her awe-inspiring logic. Or something. There was a good reason Jessica did most of her algebra homework for her.

“Okay, you win,” he sighed, finally. Gen watched as he made his way carefully towards the chair in which Jessica was now sitting. Well, not really sitting, as much as using it as a prop the way a stripper might use a pole. As he approached, she turned around, bent down and shook her butt cheeks at him. It was obvious that the corset was pure evil. Pure evil was the only explanation for shaking butt cheeks, she thought. Although it WAS strangely seductive, in a jealous kind of way. Despite herself, she tried it. Failed. Yep, evil.

PURE evil. Stupid retarded magic corset of the shaking butt cheeks.

“Hurry up,” she wiggled her fingers in Pat’s general direction. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

Somehow, he managed to ignore her and squeezed in between the side of the room and the chair. But before he could say something nerdy, Jessica leapt off the chair and devoured him. Well, not exactly devoured, but close enough. She threw both arms around his neck, placed a leg between his and pressed her knee firmly up against his crotch. “All your balls are belonging to us, you nerdy thing you,” she purred as she pressed both boobs against his chest and tried her best to python hug the geek right out of him.

“Help,” he squeaked, as he felt the blood rush from his face and collect somewhere...else.

“Be strong. Be strong,” Genevieve muttered to herself as she slowly approached them. Trying her best not to get distracted by the face on neck, ear lobe, eyebrow, and forehead action going on in front of her, she lowered her gaze to the corset from hell. After a moment, she looked up over Jess’s shoulder to try and attract Pat’s attention. It wasn’t easy as the nerdy corset monster had managed to infiltrate Pat’s mouth and swallow his tongue. “Uh, we have a problem.”

Pat somehow freed a hand just long enough to push Jess’s face down from his mouth to his neck. “Tell me about it,” he managed, just before Jessica clamped down on an inch or so of tender neck flesh.

“There’s no laces and no zipper. I don’t think it comes off.”

The Jessica thing giggled as she moved back up to his mouth, forcing herself into him as her fingers worked on his zipper once again. “Pwned.”