The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Unfaithful

By Captain Eazy

3. Changing Sandra

“. . .never again react to the numbers 4643, whether you hear them as four thousand six hundred and forty-three, as forty-six forty-three, as four six for three, or in any other combination. You will not enter a trance state when you hear the numbers. From now on your signal will be the three words ‘Jane kitten lather.’ Those three words spoken in that order. ‘Jane kitten lather.’”

“Jane kitten lather,” repeated Sandra. “I understand.”

“And when you hear me say ‘Jane kitten lather,’ you will instantly go into this trance state, just as you are now. . . even if you are clothed.” Sandra thought she heard a smile in Dr. Marlowe’s voice. She puckered her mouth in a little childish frown. Who needed clothes? She wanted to be naked always, she wanted to indulge herself.

“Tell me now,” Dr. Marlowe was saying, “about how you have . . . behaved since our class. How many lovers have you had, dear?”

“Just Brand, for the longest time. Then the delivery guy. Then the two young cops. But that was all. I need more.”

“You went into a receptive state when you heard your old cue numbers. Did I not erase the suggestions that you received while studying with me?”

“Didn’t want them erased,” Sandra pouted. “I liked being freed. I need cock. Need cum! I want to suck cock and lick pussy!” She squirmed. “So wet now. Want to come.” She spread her legs as wide as the chair would allow and made a lewd display of her open pussy. “Look how . . . wet. I’ll let you lick me.” Her voice was half-coax, half-plea.

“Not just now dear. But you may enjoy your fantasies. Dream of sex,” Dr. Marlowe ordered.

Sandra instantly drifted into a happy reverie of being taken, all at once, by five different men, all of them studs, their stiff cocks everywhere. She loved cum. She wanted to swallow it, have it squirted into her ass and pussy, and have it coat her like frosting on a cake! She dreamed of throbbing cocks, pulsating lickable pussies, and, mmm, of wearing a glistening coat of cum and a dozen randy girls tonguing it off her. Tongues, clits, pussies, cocks, all at once, surrounding her. Oohh, that would be so nice. Everyone could fuck her, everyone, and she would fuck and fuck and suck and lick and come and come until she dropped off in sheer sexual exhaustion.

She heard but did not really pay attention as Dr. Marlowe spoke into a hand-held digital recorder: “The class that the subject attended was one of my carefully controlled experiments in chemical-assisted deep hypnosis. There were ten males, ten females, all screened for disease or instability. They were all typical American college students, with the normal range of inhibitions and sexual insecurities. The point of the experiment was to make them free of all those socially-implanted and psychologically stunting limitations, to allow themselves to indulge every fantasy, every sexual whim, to the fullest, but only with each other. The experiment was a resounding success, with polymorphous combinations of males and females in every possible sexual conjunction. At the end of the term, I removed the posthypnotic suggestions from each member of the class—except that this subject apparently increased her sex drive and loved the experiences so much that she overcame my commands when she accidentally heard the trigger combination again. This, by the way, is a good indication that my decision to switch from numbers to nonsense phrases as triggers was a sound one. There is small chance that the nonsense alphabetical phrases I have started to use will show up in the mouth of a visiting delivery man!

“We are screening the subject and her husband for sexually-transmitted diseases, just in case. I think the chances of her having become infected are rather small, but she has had three partners recently. I will get her husband’s sexual history today. This is an excellent opportunity to follow up on one member of a cohort that gave me much satisfaction, both professionally and personally.”

Across from her, on the love seat, Sandra was thrashing and writhing, her mouth in a perfect O as she eagerly sucked an imaginary cock. Dr. Marlowe switched off the recorder and tilted her head, smiling at Sandra’s unabashed display. Such a pretty girl. She didn’t deserve to be treated with disdain. They’d have to do something about the husband. Dr. Marlowe glanced at her watch. If Brand responded to the induction well, the problem would no doubt resolve itself. If he were resistant, other measures might have to be taken. The vibrator that Sandra had used on herself was back on the desk. Dr. Marlowe reached for it and held it thoughtfully.

Sandra was humping and sucking for all she was worth, so realistic was her dream. “Hnnn—hnnh!” she moaned, pumping hard.

Smiling, Dr. Marlowe sniffed the vibrator, savoring the musk of this astonishing young woman, so incredibly easy to arouse, so insatiable once she had been nudged in the right direction. Dr. Marlowe rose and went to the love seat where Sandra sprawled. Tilting her head, she thumbed the vibrator into action. She perched on the arm of the love seat and stroked the tip of the vibrator up and down Sandra’s quivering pink pussy. Sandra jerked. “Yes! Yes!”

Well. . . professional and personal satisfaction. This was . . . personal. Watching with a mixture of clinical detachment and frank lust, Dr. Marlowe parted Sandra’s nether lips and began to pump her pussy with the vibe.

* * *

Brand felt wonderful. He opened his eyes and yawned. The screen was back to its puffy, blurry patches of color again. He felt as if he had slept for eight hours.

The door behind him opened, and he caught the rosy scent of Marie’s body wash. “You did really well,” she said, removing his headphones and laying them aside. “Now I’m going to take the electrodes off.”

“Okay.”

“Are you a slow guy or a fast guy?” Dimples. “Do you peel a bandage off as slow as you can, or just rip it off?”

“Let her rip,” he said, smiling.

“I like a man who can take a little discomfort.” She yanked the electrode from his left temple, making it sting a bit. Then she squirted a pink liquid on a square gauze pad and dabbed at the spot. “Let’s make sure we get all this nasty old adhesive off.” Her breath was minty, as if she had just brushed her teeth.

The right pad, and she practically sat in his lap to lean across and tenderly wipe away the remnants of the adhesive. “Just pull your shirt all the way open for me,” she told him.

He obeyed her, feeling a warm flush of pleasure. To obey was rewarding. It brought good feelings. She made the seat recline fully, and he lay looking up at her, his chest exposed. “Ready for the rip,” she said, and jerked the pad off his right chest. “You didn’t flinch,” she said approvingly. “Let me give you a little reward.” She squirted more lotion on the pad and cleaned up the adhesive—but she teased his nipple, too, making him groan as she slowly swirled the pad around and around. With a naughty grin, Marie said, “Guys like that just as much as girls do.” Then she did the other side, the other nipple.

“Okay,” she said. “Almost done. But I need one more thing—a sperm sample.” Her ice-blue eyes twinkled. “And I see you’re up for it.”

She opened the cabinet and took out a specimen cup. “I could ask you to fill this,” she murmured, waggling the small glass beaker back and forth. “But if you’d like, I could help you. I’m a handy kind of gal.”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Please.”

“Ooh, I like that. I think you’re feeling a little Jack kite loosely.”

He felt himself slip down a long velvet slide into a warm and sexy place. He felt his breathing slow, his pulse become even but strong.

“Brand, I want you to take down your pants and let me play with your cock.”

“Yes.” He unfastened his belt, undid his trousers, raised his ass from the seat, and shoved his pants and underwear down halfway to his knees. He felt the air on his stiff, throbbing dick.

“Very good.” He felt her fingers encircle his rod. They were slippery and warm, lubed with the same lotion that she had used on his nipples. That was what had the smell of roses. “Oh, nice. I like your cock, Brand. It’s nice and thick. Ooh, and so hard. Does that feel good?” A lazy stroking, friendly squeezes.

“. . . yes.”

“Next time you have an appointment, we’ll have some fun together, won’t we?”

“. . . yes.”

What was there to do? He could only agree. He felt hot, with the heat concentrating in his groin. She had cupped the head of his cock in her palm and was pressing down, gliding her palm over its lube-slickened smooth surface, testing its spring. “Oh, Sandra is so lucky. You’ve got such a pretty cock! I bet it tastes good, too.”

He moaned.

“But treats are for later. Right now I’m going to stroke you, Brand. I want you to hold off until I give you permission to come, but I want you to come good and hard when I do. Understand?”

“. . . yes.”

She was frigging him now, her loosely clenched fist delightfully slick with the lube. He could hear the smacking and lapping sounds. His erection felt gigantic, his skin tight, god if he got any harder he’d burst open like an overripe plum! Her hand warm. Slippery. Squeezing, teasing.

“Ooh, that feels good, doesn’t it?”

He was almost helpless: “Mm-hmm!”

“And look at these great big balls. Let me feel them.”

He felt her free hand cup his scrotum, playfully bounce it up and down as if she were weighing it. “Mm, so big, so full of cum! Do you like it when Sandra licks your balls, Brand?”

“Yeah.” He was breathless.

“I’ll bet she sucks them and lets you fuck her in the mouth. I would. I’d let you put this big beautiful cock anywhere you wanted. I’d drive you crazy, baby. Does that hurt?”

She was frigging him hard now, fast and hard, and he wanted to come more than he’d ever wanted anything. “Finish me,” he begged. “Please.”

She laughed and took her hand away from his balls, though her other hand remained busily engaged. “All right, lover. Just a second, let me get ready to catch your load. All right. Come for me now!”

Brand couldn’t help yelling. He felt hot jets of cum shooting out of him, felt such a wash of pleasure that he almost passed out. She expertly guided, directed, and milked his rod, over and over, until at last it began to grow flaccid again. “Very good!” she said approvingly. “Open your eyes and look.”

Brand did. She held up the beaker, more than half full of his milky cum. “You did really well.” She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, chastely at first, and then he felt her tongue flick between his lips. She pulled away.

“Now you’re going to get cleaned up. Here is a warm towel. Get tidy. Straighten your clothes up and lie back and relax. Forget all of this for now, everything that’s happened since you woke up. I want you to sleep. When you hear me knock on the door three times, you will wake up again, not remembering anything we’ve just done. You’ll feel great. I will take you back to Dr. Marlowe. You’ll think she’s a wonderful, wonderful person. You will do whatever she says. You will obey her completely. You will trust her.”

“Yes.”

“Sleep now.”

He closed his eyes and she faded away.

To be continued. . . .