The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Virginia Plain

FF, GR, MA, MC, MD, MF, IN

chapter one – never as tired as when i’m waking up

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Thanks to my sounding boards/proof readers, SoulBlazer and THM. Very special thanks to Chrystal Wynd, who told me to write the kind of story I wanted to read.

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Staring back at her reflection in the shop window, Virginia ran her fingers through her hair, her mouth wide open with shock. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d felt like the most desirable woman in the world. And now – Virginia strained forward, trying desperately to see herself in more detail, the day’s warm bright sun obscuring her image in the window – she looked just like every other horribly plain looking girl wandering past.

Hadn’t her hair been long, curly and blonde, not long ago? She was almost positive it had been. Beautiful, long blonde hair that she’d tie up in tight pigtails, or just leave cascading down past her shoulders. Virginia’s fingers brushed through dusty brown shoulder length hair, pulling it out towards her eyes so she could confirm what her reflection was telling her, then looked down at what she was wearing.

She curled her lip in disgust: a homely, droopy gray cardigan, white t-shirt, sensible flat-soled shoes, a dirty old canvas backpack and loose fitting jeans. She could barely believe this was her own image that she was seeing. God, she felt plain. She grimaced and tugged at her cardigan, trying to get it to sit right; to fit a little tighter like she was used to.

“And these jeans!” she thought. “God, they’re so loose and, and...plain!” They barely showed off any of her curves, and that just wasn’t right at all.

Come to think of it, hadn’t her figure been more well-rounded before? She was sure she remembered shopping for clothes just recently, and having to take into account the size of her breasts. She couldn’t really remember when or where that was, or what size she was, just that her boobs had been much larger than the ones she had now. How was that possible?

Oh, but there were more pressing things to take care of first, she realized, feeling the heat rising in her body, licking her lips hungrily, her eyes lazily wandering up and down the shopping arcade. She couldn’t believe she’d almost let herself get distracted! She had things she needed to do. She rubbed her hands unconsciously against her breasts, squeezing them tightly. Her nipples were hard, insistently rubbing against the soft fabric of her bra. She needed desperately to...to...

Virginia looked around in confusion. “To what?” she wondered, dropping her hands. She couldn’t remember. She shook her head, trying to think. Her mind felt like cotton wool. Biting her lip, Virginia again looked around, taking in her surroundings with a little more clarity this time.

She was standing in a small vintage-styled arcade, surrounded by clothing shops, with a tiny café down one end. “Maybe that’s what I need,” she thought to herself, smiling wryly at her own confusion, “a coffee to clear my head a bit.”

She walked slowly down the arcade, trying to piece together what was going on. She knew where she was, more or less, because Treeson Arcade wasn’t far from where she lived, though the shops looked different from the last time she was there. “How long ago was that, anyway?” she wondered. The arcade as a whole seemed to have been done up quite significantly.

She knew who she was, or at least she was pretty sure she did: Virginia Wilson, 23 year old law clerk for Topp and Hetmond. And she knew where she lived, just a few blocks away, with her mother, in a small townhouse down the road in Alpine Views.

Virginia smiled to herself as she sat down at a table out front of the café, placing her backpack on the ground next to her. She had that much worked out, at least, she thought proudly. Things were really coming along!

Though, she was having a little trouble working out how she’d managed to get to Treeson Arcade. Or what day it was.

Or why—half-consciously turning her seat to face away from the window—she felt so uncomfortable at the sight of her own reflection. Almost disgusted by how plain she looked, in clothes she was fairly sure were her own. She looked down again, grimacing at the drab cardigan.

“I wonder if it’d look any better without this t-shirt,” Virginia mumbled, holding the cardigan tight against her to make sure it wouldn’t cover up too much of her breasts. What little she had, anyway. She glanced around, looking around for somewhere to shed the extra layer. Virginia was just about to stand as the waitress walked up. The thin young blonde paused for a second, almost as if she recognized Virginia, then carried on.

“Can I help you?” she asked, brushing a stray hair from her eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Virginia began, fingering the menu, scanning it quickly and suddenly realizing how hungry she was. “Can I get a latte, and a toasted cheese sandwich?”

“Sure,” smiled the waitress, moving to walk off before tilting her head to one side as she looked at Virginia once more. “You know,” she said with a little laugh, “you look so familiar. I just can’t work out where I know you from, though.”

Virginia smiled back, shrugging. “I dunno,” she replied. “Maybe we went to the same school or something?”

The waitress shrugged in turn. “Yeah, I guess it must be something like that. I’ll just go get your order.”

Virginia watched the girl as she walked off. “She’d be maybe 19 at most,” she thought. “Definitely younger than me. Maybe she saw me in some old picture around the school.”

She did look awful familiar though, she just couldn’t work out where she’d seen her before. Virginia licked her lips, still eyeing off the young blonde as she walked back into the coffee shop. Her young ass was hugged tight by her black work pants, a perfect teen bubble butt.

God, it was straining against the stitching of the pants that very visibly separated the two globes of her little ass, straining so tight that Amber knew almost as if from past experience that she’d have to really tug those pants past that ass in order to get them off, in order to see the girl’s panties, in order for Amber to sink her teeth into that ass, and lick slowly and wetly all the way up and down the girl’s cheeks.

Her fingers danced up the girl’s thigh, digging her nails in softly. She brought them up to the top of the writhing girl’s slim legs before dragging them back down once more, a little rougher. Amber stroked up again, barely touching Sophia’s skin, grinning at her soft moan and slight shudder.

“Amber, please,” begged the girl, nervously glancing around. She tried to tug her school blouse down over her exposed panties, wishing she’d thought to tell her step-sister to stop before her pants had been practically torn off. “We’re totally gonna get caught. We’re meant to be in English now, and you know that Mr. Sollons said he’d tell Dad if we skipped any more classes. Really, we gotta stop...”

Amber shook her head, a placid grin on her face. She placed her finger on the waistband of Sophia’s cotton panties. She pressed against the elastic, rubbing her knuckle gently against her step-sister’s soft underwear. “Shhhh,” she giggled. “No one’s gonna find us, silly. And I know you totally want this, sis.” Her finger curled around the elastic, pushing it back as she pushed her finger inside the girl’s panties, the very tip of it rubbing softly against Sophia’s already swollen lips.

Sophia’s shuddered, sinking back into the seat of the car, nervously looking out the back window at the private school’s parking lot, then back down at her step-sister kneeling on the floor of her car, Sophia’s school pants crumpled next to her.

“God, she looks so totally cute,” Sophia thought with a little moan. Amber’s curly blonde hair was pulled into tight pigtails on the side of her head and her breasts were straining at her white school blouse. The few buttons she’d actually bothered doing up looked like they were going to give up any second now. Over the year and a half since she and her Dad had moved in with Amber and her Mom, Sophia had seen her step-sister’s breasts jump in size from impressively large to simply huge. She’d started as a D-cup, and was now a G-cup. Sophia had checked her bras – not that Amber seemed to wear them much, these days.

Amber shifted forward, her too-short blue plaid school skirt riding up around her hips. Sophia had suspected her step-sister had left the house without panties today, and now she had all the proof she could want. She looked like some guy’s schoolgirl wet dream. Sometimes she could barely believe that her father let her step-sister out dressed like that. Amber just grinned up at her, bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

Suddenly Sophia gasped, biting down hard on her lip in an effort to stay silent. Amber’s finger slid slowly into Sophia’s soaking pussy, pushing deeper and deeper. Sophia gripped the edge of the seat. “Oh God, sis,” she purred. Amber slid another finger into Sophia’s panties, slowly beginning to fuck her step-sister.

Sophia closed her eyes, biting down on her hand as she moaned loudly trying to muffle the noise. Her hips rocked back and forth against her Amber’s fingers. She could barely keep from dripping with wetness as soon as her step-sister so much as looked at her these days.

Amber giggled as she watched her step-sister writhing about. Making Sophia cum was so awesome. It totally didn’t matter how many times she got to do it, it was just so cool! She fingered her friend furiously as her free hand pawed at her massive tits, pinching roughly at her nipples. She pulled her glistening finger from the girl’s pussy, raising it to her lips and sucking it clean, moaning as she tasted Sophia’s juices. “Mmmm, I totally love the taste of your pussy!” she exclaimed happily, raising her eyes as she passively watched the bus pull into the parking lot...

Virginia blushed bright red. She realized where she was, immediately staring shyly down at the menu now held tight in her shaking hands, her legs pressed tight together. “What on earth?” she whispered hoarsely to herself. Virginia squeezed her legs tighter, her hot pussy crying out for attention. She wanted nothing more than to rub hard against the young waitress’ leg, to let the girl feel for herself how wet she was just thinking about the things they’d be able to do together once they got home.

“Oh my God,” Virginia thought, “I need to pull myself together! This isn’t like me at all.”

She’d never even thought of a girl in that way before! Not even when she was 16 and her new step-sister Sophia had asked shyly if she ever considered making out with a girl. “God no!” she’d gasped at the time, shocked at the very idea of it.

Why, aside from that time a week later when Amber had been lying in Sophia’s bed chatting, the two of them cuddling together for warmth, and then they’d slowly peeled their pyjamas off each other, and...wait, did that happen?

Virginia bit her lip hard. She couldn’t remember if it was real or not. She’d never had a step-sister, or a step-father, but it sure seemed real enough.

So did the the many nights Amber and Sophia spent together after that, and the nights they’d spent with their older next door neighbor, Terry, or the time the two of them had been, like, busted together in the school car park by the guys swim team when they were totally meant to be in English and then they’d...

Virginia raised her hand to her mouth, gasping. What on earth was going on? Why did she keep remembering things like that?

Why did she keep thinking of herself as Amber?

“Hey,” laughed the waitress, placing Virginia’s coffee and sandwich down on the table. She grinned at the surprised and red faced customer. “Still with us? You look a little spaced out there.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Virginia replied, a little too fast, a little too squeakily. She was barely able to make eye contact with the girl out of fear of what she might say. “I’ve just had a hard day at work, that’s all...”

The waitress smiled politely, seemingly unsure of how to take the response. “Hard day already?” she asked, looking up at the arcade’s clock. “It’s only 10am, you know.”

“I, uh, had an early start,” Virginia stuttered bashfully, directing her attentions at her coffee. Sipping it tentatively, she hoped that the waitress didn’t notice how red she was.

“Okay,” shrugged the waitress, walking off slowly, still peering at Virginia’s face as if trying to place it from somewhere. “Just come inside when you’re ready to pay.”

Virginia wondered suddenly if she actually had any money, lifting her backpack into her lap to check. Her diary from work, and a few assorted files were in there, along with – oddly, she thought – her passport, and her purse. She grabbed her purse, opening it quickly and checking to see how much she had.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, “there’s almost $5,000 here.” Virginia quickly closed the purse, looking around to see if anyone had noticed her, but saw no one watching.

Leaning back in her chair, Virginia attempted to calm down a little. She tried not to think about her morning so far, with all the inconsistencies, the weird memories, the almost uncontrollable lust. Instead, she leaned forward, focusing on eating her meal. After finishing she stood up, fished a $50 bill out of her purse, picked up her plate and cup and walked inside. The waitress beamed when she saw that Virginia had brought her dishes in with her. “Hey, thanks,” she said happily.

“Oh, no worries. I guess it’s just second nature to me,” Virginia replied, smiling back, barely realizing that she was once again tugging at her cardigan, wanting it to hug her body the way it should. She placed the dishes on the counter – eyes roaming the girl’s body, noting the way her small breasts pushed against her tight black work polo shirt – and handed over the money. The waitress handed back her change, and Virginia was in the process of stuffing it into her back pocket when her eyes caught on something.

“Is this today’s paper?” she asked the girl, pointing at the crumpled tabloid sitting on the counter.

“Yep,” nodded the waitress.

Virginia picked it up, unfolding it and scanning the top bar for the date. She glanced quickly back at the waitress. “There must be a printing error here,” she said, pointing to the date. “The year’s wrong.”

The waitress craned forward. “Uh, no, that’s the right date,” she said uncertainly. Virginia just stared in silence. If that really was the date, then what had happened to the last six years of her life?