The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Miranda stopped and did a double-take, reading over the name on the plaque again. LESBIANS IN A BOTTLE, it clearly read. Frowning, she looked more closely at the huge ship-in-a-bottle type display. The bottle itself was broad, nearly cylindrical, with a wide mouth and stoppered with a broad cork. It was set on its side on a little mahogany table that placed the bottle at about waist high.

The bottle was filled, almost up to the neck, with a sort of rubber foam that was molded at the top to resemble bed sheets that were tugged, wrinkled, and pulled at by dozens of tiny sculptures of naked women in a scene of feminine debauchery that would have given Dante fits.

She glanced around the rest of the shop, almost feeling guilty looking at this... bizarre display. It was her first time here, and she had really just come in looking for a baby doll nightie for her evening with Kevin. In the middle of the shop, amongst a labyrinth of racks full of lingerie in every conceivable material (and some INconceivable), she’d found this... odd work of erotic art.

No one was looking in her direction that she could see. She leaned in closer, her eyes drawn to the figures, engraved and painted in exquisite detail. They were all beautiful, to be sure, but they all looked so real and they all seemed to be lost in lust. Each was unique, too. She stared, searching for any two of the dozens of miniatures that were the same, but none were. There were all different body types, different faces, and positions. Each had been carved and painted individually. Each one was painstakingly painted and posed to look so realistic that Miranda found herself staring closer and closer to try to find any slight mistake in the artwork – anything that would give away their true nature as painted figurines. But they were perfect. There no misplaced pupils in the eyes, no lines of flash or seams. There were little spaces between each of the toes, and detailed tongues reaching out for – or even in – wondrously detailed pussies. Breasts heaved as backs were arched in ecstasy, and she even thought she could make out beads of sweat. As heterosexual as she was, she was getting warm all over just looking at it.

For a moment, she stopped, frowning. Had that one moved? The large-breasted figurine that had been sitting up at the side of the bottle, looking down at the face between her thighs, now had her back arched, her head thrown back, screaming in orgasm, her breasts pressed flat against the glass. Strange...

“Welcome to Thaasophobe!” Miranda jumped, turning to see a young girl in a pink rubber dress walking up to her. Airbrushed onto her rubber collar was the name Rubber Baby. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Um... no. I was just looking at...” she pointed numbly to the erotic sculpture.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the young woman remarked, smiling.

“Yes,” she answered, still staring at the little women. Had more of them moved? It was hard to tell; there were so many of them.

“It’s a one-of-a-kind. My Mistress made it.” As she spoke, the girl reached out and held her open hand an inch above its surface. “I love the erotic heat it gives off.”

“Yes,” she whispered. She was definitely feeling warmer. She realized that she was actually breathing hard and was beginning to sweat standing there, looking at it.

“Have you touched it?” the girl asked.

“Oh, no,” she exclaimed, “I would never...”

“No no no, I mean you should touch it.” Saying this, the girl brushed her fingertips along the glass of the bottle, and shivered. “Most women can come just touching it.” She breathed deep, her chest heaving. “It takes me hours to clean the fingerprints off at the end of the day, but it’s sooo worth it.” At that, she groaned, trembling in orgasm, still holding Miranda’s eyes in her own. When she stopped shaking, she took her fingers off the bottle, watching Miranda expectantly.

She blushed furiously. “Oh, I don’t... I’m really just... I...”

“It’s okay,” the girl giggled. “I have things I really should be doing, anyway, so I’ll let you alone.”

“But I’m not going to...” Miranda started, but the girl only called back over her shoulder.

“Just don’t pull the cork out, whatever you do! It’ll be forever before you stop orgasming!”

“Whatever,” she whispered to herself, certain the girl was nuts, but then she glanced back at the bottle. Now she was certain that more of the figurines had changed position. She couldn’t place a particular figure that was different, they just looked like they’d moved. She leaned in close to the glass, and felt flush as her face grew warm with proximity to the bottle. Her eyes fixed on one figurine – a young girl with curly copper hair, emerald eyes, and beautifully detailed freckles all over her body. She was lying on her back, her eyes wide as orgasm overtook her and for a moment Miranda thought she’d never seen anything so hot in all her life.

She realized, suddenly, that her hand had roamed. Her eyes roaming to the perfect pert breasts of the red-head with their beautiful nipples, her own hand had quietly begun to knead and rub her own breasts through her tee-shirt. She glanced around her. No one was looking. Looking back at the bottle, she bit her lip in indecision as she reached out her fingertips. It couldn’t hurt to touch the bottle just once, surely.

But as her fingertips brushed the surface, time seemed to slow all around her, and in the bottle, everything seemed to speed up. Pure, scorching lust rippled up her arm and slammed into her brain as the figures in the bottle gained a life of their own – grinding, licking, petting, kissing – slowly at first, and then building to a fevered pitch that went on and on. Through the glass, she could hear them all moaning and groaning with such lustful passion! It was so voyeuristic, like watching people fuck through their windows!

As she watched, her favorite little red-head squirmed, her thighs wrapped around the blond head of the woman licking her out, each of her hands playing in the folds of other women near her. She saw one of those two women lean down to suckle on one of the girl’s perfect little nipples, and Miranda’s free hand left her chest and flew up her skirt to clench at her now sopping panties. The red-head’s back arched, and her thighs clenched tight around the blond’s head and she came, throwing her head back in rapture and screaming, and Miranda came with her, trembling and falling to her knees, trying hard not to scream.

As her orgasm subsided, her fingertips popped free of the glass, like they’d been stuck there. She looked up, and the figures had stopped moving, but now she was certain that they had, indeed, moved.

She sat and stared, wondering. Was it an illusion of some kind – some sort of animatronic puppetry theater? And how had the bottle made her so horny? She’d never felt anything like it. She just wasn’t into girls, and yet this randy, raunchy little display had made her feel hotter than anything Kevin had ever done for her! Even now, she wanted to see that little red-haired figure orgasm again, and she couldn’t explain why.

One thing she knew for certain, though... the hand that had touched the bottle had been the part of her that had felt the hottest... the most lustful.

A wry grin crossed her lips as a dirty thought crossed her mind. Glancing around again to be sure no one could see her, she lifted up her tee-shirt and hoisted her bra up over her breasts, letting them swing free. One more glance around her, and she thrust her chest up against the glass.

The world slowed and the figures fucked again. A deep, animal moan tore from her throat as pure undiluted lust pulsed through her tits, holding them tight to the glass like a kid with his fingers in a wall socket! One arm wrapped itself around the bottle and the other reached under her skirt, tore aside her panties, and jammed itself into her pussy! Her breath broke down into a series of grunts as her face dropped down onto the bottle, too dizzy to hold itself up, and she scanned the undulating crowd for her freckled favorite.

She saw her directly underneath herself. The precious thing was on her hands and knees, her face buried in the crotch of some faceless girl. Miranda’s hips bucked against her own fingertips, watching the perfect back of the red-head, shaped so much like a violin with a perfect little ass. Over the muffled sounds of the moans and groans and orgasmic cries coming from the bottle, she realized she could actually hear the squelching, squishing noises of her own fingers in her cunt. She was debasing herself in public, but she didn’t care! The red-head’s partner came, shaking, and the red-head backed away, looking straight up at Miranda, locked eyes with her, and winked at her!

Miranda came, throwing her head back and screaming her lungs out with her fingers clenched in her quivering cunt. Her whole body shook, and as it finally passed she collapsed, falling onto her back and breathing in ragged gasps. Unconsciously, she bought her wet fingertips up to her lips, sucking on them as she stared at the bottle. If that was what it felt like to press her tits to it...

She struggled to sit up, peeling off her sweat-soaked tee-shirt and bra and tossing them aside. Still watching the now-motionless figures in the bottle, she tore off her skirt and panties, too. She no longer cared if anyone was watching. Let them arrest her, she just had to try this!

She stepped up to the bottle and swung one leg over. Careful not to let any other part of her touch first, she spread the lips of her melting pussy with both hands and centered it over the bottle before dropping her weight down onto it.

Time froze solid as she came at once, raw electric lust ripping up through her cunt, pulling her feet off the ground and clenching her thighs around the bottle. Her hips bucked wildly, making the little wooden stand creak and shake wildly as she rode the bottle for all it was worth, her back arched and her head thrown back, screaming in abandon! One orgasm ended and another began, Miranda throwing her weight forward, grabbing the neck of the bottle and riding like a mechanical bull as she scanned the orgy beneath her for her copper-haired angel of lust.

She was there – near to the cork – staring up at Miranda’s bucking, glistening, flowing pussy in wonder as she was eaten out by some other woman. Through her own raw-throated grunts she thought she could hear the sweet sound of the girl moaning, but it was muffled by the glass.

The second orgasm subsided and Miranda’s hips practically beat her aching cunt against the bottle as she clawed at the cork. She wanted to hear that girl come. She needed to hear her come while she came too! As the cork started to come loose and she neared another climax, the girl looked up at her and Miranda saw her lips cry, “Yes, yes, YES!”

The cork popped free, tumbling to the ground in slow motion, and Miranda came – hell, Miranda became an orgasm, her mind exploding free of her body as ecstasy blew her apart and she fell forward onto the bottle, her head swinging over the end to face the open chasm of the bottle’s opening. For one senseless moment, she could feel the heat sucking inward at the air around her like an erotic vortex, and she could hear the sweet honeyed cries of her little red-head moaning in pleasure, and then she passed out.

It only seemed like moments that she was out, but she was awoken by the feeling of lips against hers. Someone was kissing her, pressing their tongue into her mouth. Dazed in afterglow, she welcomed the tongue, and slowly realized it wasn’t the only place she was being touched. As the fuzz in her head cleared, she became aware that one of her hands was being pressed into a dripping wet pussy. Her other hand was laying open and someone’s breast was brushing back and forth over it, their nipple hard and tickling her palm. There was a mouth gently nibbling at one of her nipples and fingers teasing the other. A wonderfully expert tongue was playing at her pussy, easing the wonderful ache there, and she moaned into the mouth kissing her. One of her feet was being rubbed into another wet pussy and the other was being massaged as someone sucked on each toe.

It was heaven, and it took her several long moments to wonder where she was. She pressed the one hand into the sticky pussy offered to her and rubbed the other into the breast ticking it before she opened her eyes to saw her copper-haired angel smiling back at her.

Oh, God, she thought, I’m in the bottle! I’m a lesbian in a bottle! She looked up to see the glass of the bottle curving over her. She knew she should be upset, but she felt too good. The red-head smiled back down at her with her shining emerald eyes, and Miranda took her hand away from the anonymous breast to take hold of her head and pull her down into another kiss. As their tongues danced, and the heat built again in her loins, she remembered the rubber girl’s admonition.

Just don’t pull the cork out! she’d said, It’ll be forever before you stop orgasming!

Orgasm loomed again as she realized she hadn’t been exaggerating. She would be trapped in the bottle, giving off erotic heat for all time! Her first orgasm in her new life slammed into her and she tensed, squeezing her fingers into the pussy in her hand, and that girl came too, shuddering her juices into Miranda’s hand as ‘Red’ moaned, kissing her all the more passionately.

Someone licked her juices off her inner thighs, and someone else licked her fingers clean as Red smiled down at her, shifting to lay over her in a ‘69’ position. Just for a moment, Miranda caught sight of the rubber girl standing over the bottle, smiling down at her as she replaced the cork in the bottle. Fear and regret washed over her for a mere moment as she heard the squeak of the cork being pressed home, but then Red’s swollen and dripping pussy was over her lips and she reached up to taste her, lost forever in her newfound passion.

Rubber Baby pressed the cork home, smiling down at the girls inside. If she didn’t have her Goddess to serve, she’d jump into the bottle herself. But she did, and her Goddess needed her, so she could handle the cork easily without giving in to the temptation of it.

“One more log on the fire,” she mused, holding her hands over the surface of the glass, swimming in the fresh wave of erotic heat coming from within. She allowed her lust to build to a pleasant head-swimming high without letting herself come. Picking the woman’s clothes up off the floor, she hummed a happy tune as she bounced off for the incinerator, and then off to find her Goddess to beg for a little playtime.