The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Um, do you go to school here?” the blonde boy said. He wore a tight collared shirt and a bead necklace. The friend shot the blonde boy a dark look. He wore a faded Pi Theta Nu t-shirt. The two were strategically placed on the Main Quad, and had picked her out from scores of passing undergraduates. Both sported nice tans and weren’t shy about showing muscle.

“Frat boys, huh?” Rebecca thought. The Dumb Act wouldn’t be hard to pull off against frat boys. They weren’t smarties either. They were stupidies. Or whatever you called them. Anyway, it would be easy.

“Umm… I mean, yeah, I guess I do,” Rebecca tittered. She had to admit that she liked the boys. They were built. There was something about muscles that got girls so randy. Like they were good providers or had a big dick or something. “I’m majoring in… um…”

Rebecca tried to think of a stupid major, but for some reason she couldn’t think of any. Or her own. Psycho-something.

“Oh my gosh I forgot it!” she said, laughing. Alright, now t-u-r-n the conversation towards them…

“What’s your name?” Blonde asked.

“Um, it’s Rebecca,” she said. A moment afterwards she caught herself. She wasn’t supposed to be giving her real name! Stupid, stupid! “…But you can call me Becky.” That was a good name for a dumb girl. Bimbo Becky. She giggled again and twirled her hair unconsciously.

“Becky! I like that,” T-shirt boy said. He smiled winningly at her, and Becky swiveled in his direction. Clearly, here was the al—alph—the hunky big boy, whatever they were called. She liked that. Bimbo Becky. That was pretty hot.

“Becky, I’ll get to the point, do you like to have a good time?”

“Oh, yes!” Becky said. She didn’t even have to think about it. Hell yes, bimbos liked to have a good time. It was part of the Code. Of the bimbos. “Um, that is, I kinda do.”

“In that case, you’re coming to our party tonight, right?” T-shirt said.

Wait, she was? She didn’t remember agreeing to it. “Uh, actually,” Becky tried to remember what she had told them. But the boys were both so nice. And she did like to have a good time. It wouldn’t hurt to take the night off, go drinking, maybe…

“Are there going to be boys there?” she blurted out.

“At a frat party?” Blonde said, incredulously. The two exchanged glances. “…Yeah, there’ll be a few. At a frat party.”

“And we’ll definitely be there,” T-shirt said.

“All of you?” Becky said. Impulsively, she put a hand out and rubbed his chest. Just to see if it was as muscular as the shirt made it seem. It was. That was nice.

She turned and caught the blonde boy examining her ass. At least with this she knew what to do. Wink at him, wiggle it just a little bit. Becky wore a checkered sundress that had caught her eye on her way back from the gas station. She had stopped so suddenly she had nearly caused a pileup, but the outfit was perfect in every way. The cheerful red-and-white checkers said “1950s Americana,” but the lewdly short skirt coupled with the deep scoop neck said “dumb.” She stood out in a crowd like a sunflower in a… bunch of flowers or something. And it was SUPER hot.

Bimbos knew when to make an exit. “See you later, boys,” Becky said, favoring them with a big smile. She teetered off in her dark black heels, pulling down the rump of her dress. That had gone perfectly. She was convincingly dumb, but in control of the situation.

It wasn’t like the gas station. Or later, with the traffic cop. Okay, he was pretty adorable, but she still should not have talked to him with one nipple playing peek-a-boo. Or later, she should not have ran into the Men’s Room when she needed to get off. And yes, she was getting a little sidetracked from the whole David-seduction thing. But this! This had gone very well.

“Hey! You! Becky!” Someone said. Becky turned. It was T-shirt Man again. She gave him a bright smile.

“Just wanted to tell you, wear something trashy…”

“Okay!” Becky said. Ooh, she could wear the white vinyl dress. She was pretty sure it was illegal if a minor even saw it.

“…because it’s a pimps and hos party,” his mind caught up with her. “Oh. Um, okay then!” he jogged away. She watched his ass.

Becky sighed. That was pretty slutty, but was it TOO slutty? At least he didn’t ask to feel her up or anything. It was hard enough to stay on target. Getting felt up by a big, hot boy would be nice. What was she thinking about?

Becky bit her lip. He was cute. That men’s room wasn’t far away. Oh, and there was probably a woman’s restroom, too, if she looked for it.

“Okay, no way am I letting you out like that,” Candice’s roommate said. Candice just rolled her eyes. There was nothing very special about the dress. It was just a long tube, fire-engine red, and she had just spent the last thirty minutes carefully pouring her body into it. Her body was a lovely, wonderful, size 4. Just enough padding to stay curvy, but not enough to see an ounce of extra skin that didn’t belong. Squeezing into the dress had been like a long, sensual finger session. Her roommate had had to leave the room. She had a silver necklace on. For the classy element. And it sparkled.

Sure, her boobs were more like accessories then a bosom, stuffed into a bra as an afterthought. Sure, her purse contained only a discrete handkerchief in case she got… too excited. But it wasn’t like she was wearing just lingerie. Or a swimsuit.

“You like a slut. And not a very bright one,” her roommate said.

“Thanks.” Candice said, sweetly. Don’t let it get to you, that was the secret. It worked in the field and it worked in real life. “I appreciate your understanding.”

“Candice! Look at me!”

“No, you look at me!” Candice said. She grabbed her roommates head in both hands and directed it up and down her body. On a whim, Candice stepped in close to her roommate’s body. Their breasts touched. Her nipples were hard. Candice wasn’t surprised.

She leaned in to her roommate’s ear. “Now. I. Am. Going. Out.”

Then Candice stomped out of the room. Her roommate stood, dazed and unmoving.

Did erect girl-nipples count for her Survey? Candice wasn’t sure. She stood in the middle of the dorm elevator, hand on her hip, absorbing the awed gaze of the three Freshmen behind her. They were barely worth the effort , but every addition helped.

The Pi Theta Nu was the biggest party of the semester, and Frat Parties were meccas for horny boys. There were never enough girls at those things. Candice almost licked her lips, but reminded herself not to disturb the bright red lipstick. This was a field trip. She didn’t even know how many erections she could get. Possibly hundreds. Her mouth watered. It was doing that a lot, lately.

Her ride pulled up. She flounced into the side and climbed into the car. The boy inside took careful notice when she flashed him. Panties just had seemed like a waste of time.

He put a hand on her thigh as they began to drive away. Candice giggled and uncrossed her legs. There was always room for a quick twenty points.

Becky walked carefully up the steps to the Frat Party, clutching her purse at her side. The boys passing on either side gave her startled, intense looks. She was sure she recognized plenty of them from her psychology sections. Not a single one could possibly know this blonde, busty dumb girl as their stuck-up graduate instructor. She was the perfect Bimbo Becky.

Becky sighed. It WAS kind of liberating, all of this… not thinking. She would be sorry to let it go, after she gave David his blowjob. But even the fun jobs came to an end.

She practically glowed in the dusk-light. Becky wore a white vinyl dress. She noted absentmindedly that the freckles on her boobs had lately disappeared. Her ass certainly looked spectacular. Her finger had found its way down there while she was getting dressed. Now THAT was in-character!

The inside of the house was smoky, dark, and peppered with random strobe lights. Every so often a light would reflect against her tight white dress. She sashayed inside, then paced around nervously for a few minutes. Now what? Oh, right.

Becky gave the nearest boy a melting smile. He nearly dropped his drink, before being viciously tugged away by the mediocre girl at his side.

“Becca! You made it!” It was T-shirt Boy, still trailed by Blondie. She rushed up to them, grateful to see anyone she knew. Blond Boy stuck a beer in her hand. Good. She was thirsty. And bimbos liked beer or whatever.

“SO glad to see you two!” she shouted, over the bass line.

“Us too!” Blond Boy said. Whenever she turned to look at one of them, the other took an admiring appraisal of her outfit. She felt so proud of herself. She really fit the theme. Pimps and sluts.

The two attempted conversation, but it was so easy to just stand back and let them do all the work of coming up with things to say. She knew men. All they wanted was for her to smile at them and not mind when they stared at her chest. That was just fine with her. Maybe later T-shirt Boy and she could—but no, he was probably a student or whatever. In whatever her major was. Bimbo Studies. She laughed, and both of the boys smiled.

Becky finished her first beer. Blond Boy immediately gave another one.

Bimbo Studies was funny. She giggled. The two boys were encouraged, moving just a little closer. Becky gave them a winning smile. This was going so well! They liked her, she liked them, they really bought that she was a bimbo.

“Why don’t you go see our room!” Blond Boy yelled. Becky nodded happily.

On the way up, T-Shirt Boy casually put his hand on her ass. Becky paused, then kept walking. A bimbo would barely even notice. Even when T-shirt Boy—mmm—started to slowly run his hand back and forth. Becky put an extra bounce in her step.

“This is it!” Blonde Boy announced. He indicated a dank, rusted-over dungeon of two old beds and a maze of ugly laundry. Becky tried not to notice the long-dead pizza boxes in the corner. Bimbos didn’t care.

“Oh, this is nice!” she gushed, walking into the middle of the room. She turned around. Okay, she had seen it, now what?

The two boys, without exchanging a word, had surrounded her. Blond Boy had his hand on her ass, now, and T-Shirt was pressing in close. Becky knew something was wrong about this, but they looked so good with their big muscles… and they had given her free beer! She was having fun!

“Glad you like it,” T-shirt said. “Anything else you like?”

And he took her hand and placed it on top of his crotch.

Becky’s eyes widened. Blonde Boy took the opportunity to hold her from behind and slowly dry hump her ass.

“Oh… I don’t know boys…” God, they were SO cute. “This isn’t really…” she started to sweat. “…appr- appro—this is not so good.”

“Don’t you like this?” Blonde boy said, from behind her. He was humping her ass. Ass. What a silly word. She giggled again.

“See? I knew it.” Becky looked down at her hand, which was slowly giving a handjob to T-shirt boy. From what she could tell, he was probably gigantic. Big dick. That was funny too.

T-Shirt Boy fumbled with his belt, and had his pants quickly around his ankles. From the noise behind her, Becky could tell that Blonde was the same way.

What would a Bimbo do? Would she leave two dicks hanging in the air? Or would she do her bestest to get fucked by two sexy boys, letting them pound her ass until she screamed around a mouthful of cock?

Put that way, it was easy. Becky sank to her knees. She giggled again. It was so much easier to not have to make these big decisions!

Candice knit her brows and scowled. This was going horribly.

Not that any of the girls had anything on her. But there WERE a lot of them, and this house was smoky, loud, and DARK. Guys didn’t even see her!

There was no way she was going to get the tally she needed.

She had even resorted to flirting in the kitchens. The harsh neon light had emphasized the swell of her boobs. But she needed quantity, not quality!

It was time for drastic measures.

A drunken, vacuous blonde in a disheveled white dress stumbled down the stairs, giggling and glassy-eyed. She was escorted by two broadly-smiling men. Good, some dumb blonde half-fucked to unconsciousness. Exactly what she needed.

“You’re coming with me,” she said, neatly snaring the girl from between the two boys. She threw them a wink. They were probably spent from fucking the bimbo, but it never hurt to advertise. Not in her line of work, at least.

Candice dragged the unresisting girl behind her, until the two emerged on the main dance floor. Right in the middle stood the kitchen table. Candice carefully maneuvered the girl up onto the table, making sure to let her dress ride up for maximum effect. Then she climbed up after her. She turned around and smiled. Already half the eyes on the room were on the two big-titted girls showing their legs off for the whole room.

Now, it was time for the main show.

“What—what’re we doing up here?” the bimbo said.

“This,” Candice said. She leaned in, licked her lips, and kissed the bimbo full on the lips.

Candice hadn’t meant it to be more then an act. But she could sense that salty, delicious taste in the Bimbo’s mouth, and it started to drive her a little wild as well. The Bimbo, after a moment of shock, was deeply into it, and the two clutched at each other as their tongues worked in each other’s mouths.

Slowly, the room became quiet, until the only remaining noise was the drum line in the chorus. The girls in the audience started to turn away, but in the closed, stifling room there was some odd underlying smell—almost something strawberry. It kind of made things hot. Those closest to the girls felt most strongly. They started to eye their boyfriends with interest.

At just the right moment, Candice came up for air long enough to pivot on one leg, turn, and show an entire frat audience a panty-less, perfect ass. The crowd cheered.

The bimbo stumbled off, escorted back upstairs by her two boyfriends. Candice abandoned herself to a sea of friendly hands and horny boys.

The important thing, she thought, as the first hand started to paw at her ass, was to not lose count.

David slipped into the bathroom and quietly closed the door. After a moment he flipped the light switch on, then listened carefully for any noise outside. Nothing moved. Heather was still asleep, snuggled happily on her side.

Earlier that morning David had fucked her asleep. It hadn’t been difficult.

Heather had returned yesterday afternoon with a slew of packages, thrown them onto the bed, then immediately gone down on David. Mewing and flushed, the brunette had deepthroated him on the first pass, brutally licking and sucking until David shot wad after wad down her throat.

Then, she made dinner.

After dinner Heather had slipped into one of her new outfits, a teal crochet knit with a scoop neck. It was barely appropriate for clubbing. Heather had done dishes in it. After a few minutes she had walked over to David, stared at him until he grew an erection, then cheerfully sat on it. Then she stood up, her pussy tightly gripping him, and walked him over to the kitchen. David had spent a good ten minutes fucking her from behind while she absentmindedly cleaned the same spoon, over and over.

Following dinner Heather spent a half-hour or so on her laptop while he watched TV. At some point she abandoned that project, pulled her tremendous tits out of her straining top, and given him a gentle titfuck. “Don’t mind me,” she had told him. He had sprayed her with shot after shot of white cum, bathing her face in it.

After watching her lick it clean, David was startled to find himself hard again.

At that point there was no denying that something was terribly, oddly, off.

So the next morning, he woke Heather up in the early AM by sucking at a nipple. She had shuddered in climax while still half-asleep

While she was dazed and happy, David knelt between her legs, pulled her closer, and proceeded to fuck the living daylights out of her.

It had felt amazing. Thinking back, David was struck by how little vanilla-style missionary screwing they had done in the past few crazy days. Regardless, her silken pussy pulsed with a warm, wet urgency. It had taken tremendous self-control not to blow his load right then and there. After the second orgasm Heather had stopped trying to milk the cum out of him, and simply laid there with a happy grin plastered across her face. When orgasm four quietly rippled through her, David had let himself cum.

There was so much stuff it was still leaking out. Heather had promptly turned over and gone to sleep. He finally had a few moments privacy.

David examined himself in the bathroom mirror. His trembling hands tapped his dick a few times, which was enough to get it hard. He held a tape measure and pulled it from base to tip.

Seven and 3/4s inches. Good lord. He had grown over two inches. And his balls had swelled. They looked like little red grapefruits.

He had changed. The old David didn’t have the stamina for a thirty-minute fuck session. He walked out of the bathroom and into the living room. Then he went online and made an early appointment to see a doctor. This wasn’t normal.

Now what? David decided to do some laundry before the appointment. He needed to. All of his underwear was stiff with sex juices. He tossed on his last remaining a t-shirt and jeans, then paused. Should he question this? What was actually WRONG with a slutty girlfriend that loved to clean up after him?

No, that was… whatever was going on… doing the thinking. This was wrong. And if he concentrated, he was nearly sure he could make his erection go back down. Heather’s tightly-wound ass wasn’t helping.

He slung the laundry bag and detergent over his shoulder, then walked it downstairs to the sparingly appointed apartment complex laundry room

The laundry was already going when he opened the door. Inside, sitting on top of one of the vibrating machines, was a stacked asian girl. Her mouth was open, highlighting deep red lips and long lashes. She wore a short jean miniskirt that was hiked up to the point of scandal. Her deep blue strapless top did nothing to hide a spectacular pair of tits, and she was grinding desperately against the vibrations from the washing machine.

A moment later David recognized her as Jenny. The mousy, disgusted graduate student was faintly visible in the sweating, sexual tour de force in front of him.

“Jenny?” he said, shocked.

She opened her eyes, cursed in a fairly Jenny-like way, and hopped off the washing machine. She tugged the jean skirt down, and held her legs closely together.

“Um. Hello, David, right?”

David watched a line of lubricant wind its way down her thigh. His cock started to grow. She smiled wanly and balanced on four inch heels, then nodded in recognition.

“You’re Heather’s boyfriend!” she said.

“..Yeah? So?” David said. Jenny smiled and clapped her hands together. Her tits bounced. If she was wearing a bra, it had long ago given up and moved away.

“So you can help me! Look, Heather has been acting weird, right?”

“Oh yeah. Very weird.” David said. Jenny tried to unobtrusively wipe off the line of lubricant with a hand. Damn, now his cock was really hard. “Bizaare, even.”

“Right. Right! Okay, you guys have a bottle of lubricant, yeah? A new one?”

David looked askance at her. He hadn’t known Heather was discussing their sex life. “Where are you going with this?” he asked. He took a step backwards. The last thing he needed was another sex-starved girl talking her way into his pants.

“No!” Jenny said, pleading. She bent forward slightly. Her tits swung freely. “Please, please don’t go,” she said, deeply. “We can help each other.”

David stepped forward again. It was hard to keep his eyes of those tits. Fortunately, Jenny didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she squeezed her arms together a little tighter.

“I need your help,” Jenny said. She gestured downwards. “I mean, just look at me! My tits have grown, like, three cup sizes in just the past couple of days, my attention span is shot, and if I daydream for just a couple of minutes I’m thinking about cocks again.”

“Cocks?”

“Big ones, little ones, all colors and sizes,” Jenny said. She sighed, then cupped both of her impressive boobs in her hands. “See these? Last week, nothing. Now I can probably fit twelve inches in there. And my skin is way… you know… softer. Nicer.” She stared at the tips of her boobs. “I’ll bet I can even lick them,” she said, softly. Her tongue slowly started to tease out of her mouth.

“So your point is…?” David interrupted.

Jenny shook yourself. “Right. Right! So the point is, this is all Heather’s fault! It’s that boob-juice she carries around in her pocket. The lubricant. Once it gets all strawberry and nice in a room it’s all I can do to keep my hands away from myself.”

David thought back. She had a point. The weirdness did start when the lubricant entered the picture. And it did arrive in a mysterious box. But..

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” David objected. “Even if the lubricant is making your boobs grow, it shouldn’t make you dress like a sex doll.”

Jenny took a deep breath at the phrase “sex doll.”

“You mean,” she said, in a tinny voice, “why am I dressed in this short jean skirt with my boobs hanging out?”

“Yeah,” David said. His libido was starting to do the talking. “You kind of look like a slut.”

“A… cheap slut?” Jenny said, slowly.

“No, no. Kind of like the easy girl-next-door that you always hear getting banged.” This was pretty interesting. At every sexually-charged word a little thrill charged through Jenny.

“Yeah… I guess I am…” she said. Without even seeming to realize it, Jenny started to slowly climb back onto the washing machine. “You’re right. Even if it was biochemical, I shouldn’t HAVE to finger myself everytime a boy looks sideways at me. I should—”

Jenny slipped on the old grey tile. “Damn heels!” she cursed, pulling herself upright. The fog seemed to lift from her eyes.

“See, it’s affecting you, too!” she said, accusingly. “You’re hitting on me, getting me hot! You’re the one responsible for this. All along! The man!”

David felt hurt. “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, but it isn’t me. And besides…” he hesitated. This was getting personal. “…I’ve been affected… physically. I’m going to see the Doctor today.”

“Physically?”

“My… dick got bigger.”

Jenny tugged at the hem of her shirt. She licked her lips. “…Bigger?”

“Oh yes. Bigger.”

“Um… how much bigger.”

David told her. Jenny’s eyes got glassy again.

“Oh my.. that is bigger.”

They both stood silently for a moment.

“Um…” Jenny said, fidgeting. “This is going to sound kind of personal, but… can I see it?”

“See… my penis?”

“Yeah,” Jenny said. “You can… come to the doctor with me, and we’ll prove to him that something weird is going on.”

That sounded pretty reasonable. Although the way Jenny kept licking her lips was getting a little threatening. She bent towards his crotch and scrutinized it closely. The bulge was intensely obvious.

“I think… yeah, I think I need to take a look at this.” She said. “This could blow this cock—I mean, blow this case wide open.”

David realized he didn’t have much of a choice. If he didn’t open his pants his cock threatened to burst out. He opened his fly and shucked his underpants downwards. His penis bounced up and down in the humid laundry air. Jenny had to wipe her mouth.

“That’s certainly very big,” Jenny said. “Uh, how big was it before?” She crept closer.

David put his hand around the base and measured about five to six inches. “Just this,” he said. In retrospect, his old dick seemed like a sad little thing.

Jenny crept in. Her thin, delicate hand put one finger carefully above his own, and the other hovered above the tip of his penis. It bucked upwards, and she snatched her fingers back carefully. “That’s a lot of inches,” she said. “Any other, uh, physical effects?”

“Cum. Lots of it.” David said. “Here, give it a moment… there.” The usual white dot appeared at the very top. “All the time. My clothes are completely covered in cum. It gets everywhere.”

Jenny’s mouth made a silent O. Without even looking, she reached down and carefully wiped at the lubricant still rubbing between her thighs. She licked at it. “Strawberries,” she said, then reached out, with her index finger, and wiped off the little dot of precum. She put it carefully in her mouth. “Strawberries again,” she noted. “Your cum is delicious.”

“Thanks,”

“No, cum isn’t supposed to taste this good. I’m pretty sure it tastes salty. But this…”

Jenny’s eyes were glazed over entirely. “This… I need more of this…” She opened her mouth. A little tendril of drool leaked out. “It’s just so good.”

Her eyes half-closed, Jenny began to settle on her knees in front of him. David thought about Heather, just two floors above him, and took a heroic step back. Jenny moaned as he did, frustrated and disappointed at the rejection.

“Jenny!” David said, “pull yourself together! Christ! You look like a fuck toy!”

“Oh. A fuck toy,” Jenny said. She wavered on her knees. “I… don’t… want… to be… a fuck toy…” She pulled herself shakily to her feet, then smoothed her skirt again.

“I’m… I’m really sorry about that,” she said, looking at the floor. “It’s something about the way you smell, I think. It’s an aphrodisiac. I think the lubricant has changed our body chemistry somehow.”

David didn’t need any more convincing. His own responses shocked him. Why would he even want to fuck Jenny, as sexy and hard-bodied as she was? He had more sex then he could handle with Heather. And yet it had taken nearly everything he had to pull away.

“Lets do this,” he offered. “We go upstairs, pour the lubricant into the sink, then we go to the doctor. And the federal authorities.”

“I.. I don’t know if I can stand it,” Jenny said. She looked forlorn. “I’m so horny even without the strawberry scent. When I’m around it, I just want a dick in me before I think about anything else.”

“You feeling… okay for this?” David asked.

Jenny nodded quickly. “Lets just get this done.”

David turned, dropped his laundry bag, and started to walk towards the exit.

“Oh. Uh-oh,” Jenny said, distantly.

David looked back. Jenny was staring at his open laundry bag. It had spilled a week’s worth of sweat- and sex-stained clothes and underpants. A few of Heather’s panties had somehow found their way inside the bag.

“It smells so good,” she said, staring at the open bag.

“Like strawberries?” David asked, but Jenny didn’t respond. He walked over to the bag and closed it, quickly. For a second he thought he smelled something on the very edge of his senses.. but then it was gone. Jenny looked like a truck had hit her. She stood with her legs tightly together, holding herself with both arms.

“C’mon, it’s closed,” David said. “Lets get this done.”

“You don’t understand,” Jenny said. A few tears leaked out. “All I want to do is get fucked. I haven’t had sex in five years, and I’m horny as hell, and I just want to get off. Don’t you know what that’s like?”

“Jenny—”

“Don’t “Jenny” me! I’ve got a body so hot it sets off alarms, and my libido is going crazy, and I’m still nearly a virgin. I just want to get fucked with somebody’s dick!” Jenny sobbed. She sat on the washing machine, not even noticing the vibrations.

David exhaled sharply. “Fine.” He said, stomping over to the miserable barely-dressed girl. “Come on. Turn around.”

“For what?” Jenny said, holding back sobs.

“So I can fuck you from behind.”

“Wha—what?” She didn’t resist as David spun her on the washing machine, then pulled her legs behind her so she dangled off the side of the washer. Her pussy sat directly on the top of the shaking machine. “Ummmm,” she said, breathing heavily. Her legs, too short to reach the ground, dangled freely. One of her heels fell off. “Do I need to do anything?”

“Not really,” David told her. She kept craning her head backwards, trying to see him as he unzipped his pants again. His dick was still hard. He pointed it directly at the barely-thatched line between her legs. “Hang on or something.”

Jenny’s body went rigid as he nestled between her thighs, then rubbed it gently across the back of her slit. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” she said, panting furiously.

“Too late for that.”

“No, I mean, I don’t know how coherent I’ll be—oh…. God… GOD.”

Jenny shook, in tune with the washing machine, as David pushed into her with a smooth, steady motion. He grabbed her hips to keep her steady, then moved back and forth. Her first scream outshone the hum of the electricity by an order of magnitude. She went limp, then gradually recovered over a series of minutes.

“Are… are you done? That… that was amazing.” She said. Jenny started to push back, hesitantly, against his thrusting cock. “Oh, it’s starting again… I don’t know how… Oh.. David!”

David let himself come after her third orgasm. For a good five minutes she simply dangled off the machine, cum and lubricant dripping liberally down her thighs.

“I don’t… know… if I want to give that up,” she said. David pulled his pants back up, then handed her clothes back to her.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, and he tapped his foot tersely as she weakly complied. “I don’t think I want Heather to know I was fucking the neighbor.”

Jenny tried to think of something besides David’s cock. She knew she could do it. Getting fucked had helped—her head did feel a little more clear.

But when she let her attention drift, all she could think about was that beautiful long snake of a cock sliding into her from behind. That warm, long length rippling inside of her, setting her off. She had to keep swallowing.

“I can’t wear these,” she said, pointing at her clothes. The jean skirt was liberally stained with stray cum, and her shirt was torn where David had pounded her into the washing machine.

“Do you have anything to wear at all?” David said. David David David. He was starting to get hard again.

Jenny reached into the dryer, where her first load was just starting to finish off. Nearly everything, including her bulky old clothes, was still dripping wet. The only thing left was—well, the Doctor would have to examine her anyway.

“Turn around,” she said, absentmindedly.

“Whatever for?” David said, surprised. After a moment Jenny realized that he was right. He had already fucked her. What did it matter if he saw her naked? After a moment of hesitation she stripped her shirt and skirt off and bounced in front of her.

“I don’t have any underwear,” she said, meekly, and was delighted to see his dick bounce at the news. He thought she was pretty!

The only dry-enough dress was a black strapless piece of club-wear that she didn’t even remember Heather picking out. It was covered in ripples from top to bottom, and hung onto her bouncing curves for dear life. The fabric was whisper-thin. Her tits could feel the thin breeze from outside.

“Okay,” she said, “Lets get this over with.” She exulted inside. Soon she would be free of this sexual disaster. Pour out the lubricant, get to the doctor, and get it over with.

She followed him up the stairs and to the door of the apartment. “Maybe this is a bad idea,” she whispered, nervously. “I don’t know if I can handle this. In fact, why am I even here to—”

David opened the door to the apartment, and the warm strawberry breeze that crept out behind him washed her concerns away.

“Okay, lets do this.. uh, hello, Heather,” David said. His voice trailed off. Jenny peeped in behind him. She understood why.

Heather was dressed head to toe in black and white lace. A short corset on the top propped up her oversized chest, which wobbled back and forth as she swept through the apartment. She wore a white skirt with fine lace detailing on the bottom, which didn’t hide a dark leather bikini. Her legs were covered in white kneehighs. She balanced easily on four and a half inch boots. In her right hand she clutched a dustbuster. Her hair was pulled back with a dark headband.

She was cleaning the apartment. Jenny felt a smile flicker onto her face.

“Oh, hey David,” she said. Her eyes flickered to Jenny. “Hi Jenny. Good morning. Come in, both of you.”

“No,” Jenny thought. She could FEEL the strawberry on Heather, pouring out of that little bottle she kept secreted on her person. Her tits were massive things, riding high on her chest. But it was so hard to disobey Heather. Jenny walked into the room on her own heels, feeling awkward and small by comparison.

“Heather, we wanted to talk to you about… something that may be important,” David said, carefully. He sat at the kitchen table. “Things have been kind of weird, lately, and…”

Heather waved him off. “I wanted to talk to both of you, first,” she chirped. David and Jenny shared an uneasy look. Had they been too loud?

“No, we need to go first,” Jenny said, calmly. She stood back, mortified. She had defied Heather. But thankfully, David took up the conversation.

“Can we… see that bottle of lubricant?” he said. “The one we got in the mail? There might be something odd about it.”

Heather frowned. “I don’t see the point. We’ve got more important things to talk about.”

“I need that bottle, Heather,” Jenny said. She put everything she had into it, and her voice still came out pleading and baby-soft. “It’s weird. It’s messing with all of us. We’re feminists! We shouldn’t be… dressed up like fuck toys!” She shouldn’t’ve used that word. Although Heather shuddered at it, too.

“You two are being weird,” Heather said. She turned to head back to the bedroom. “Sit down and I’ll get us some drin—”

“I just need it!” Jenny yelled. She rushed the taller woman, knocked into her from behind. Jenny hands darted across Heather’s body, searching and questing for the lubricant across the folds of her maid’s uniforms. All she found was curves and comfortable places. Running her hands over Heather’s body was exciting. Jenny pulled back. It wasn’t there.

Heather fixed her with a “are you done?” look. “If you want the bottle that bad, fine,” she said. She walked into the bedroom. Jenny slowly sunk into the other kitchen table chair. Heather re-emerged and placed a small plastic bottle on the table. “There. Here it is.”

Her heart racing, Jenny picked up the bottle in triumph. Then she shook it. The little plastic bottle was completely empty.

“We ran out of that stuff, like, three days ago,” Heather said. She shrugged. “I haven’t really needed it, anyway. And neither have you, by the look of things.”

With a sinking heart, Jenny looked down. The V of her dress was already stained through. She sighed in despair, then sniffed at the bottle. Strawberries. Heather was right. It wasn’t the lubricant anymore—if it had ever been. It was Heather. And her. Heather smelled like a warm day on a strawberry field.

“Jenny, don’t sit there, I need to dustbust that,” Jenny sat up, still holding the bottle. Could a doctor even help? But she couldn’t go out of doors with this wet spot on her crotch. It would be… unladylike. “Here, sit on top of David.”

On top of David? Jenny looked for somewhere else to sit, but Heather’s command was clear, and she smelled so could. She shot David an apologetic look and nestled in on top of him. Jenny tried to hold herself up, to not excite him, but she could already feel his dick nestling between the back of her ass. At least she could keep herself from grinding against it while she tried to come up with a plan

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Heather said, dustbusting Jenny’s vacated chair. She paused and turned to David.

“David, honey, put your arms around Jenny’s chest.”

The two shared a look. David awkwardly put his hands around Jenny. He tried to keep them far apart, but her tits were just too large for them to not brush up and down against her nipples.

“Anyway, it’s apparent to me that I’m just too busy to satisfy all of David’s needs. I can clean, I can cook, I can fuck, but I can’t do all of them at the same time. And that has been terrible for our relationship. David has been forced to have sex with me when I have the time, not on his clock. And I’m not always available when he wants to play.”

Heather jabbed her dustbuster viciously at a spot between Jenny’s legs, on the floor. She was forced to part her thighs to let it through. David’s cock took the chance to rub gently against her ass.

“I mean, just this morning he was forced to wake me up for sex, when I should’ve been there waking him up with a blowjob. Jenny, be a dear and hold this.”

Heather handed Jenny the dustbuster. It was still on. The only place to hold it was between her moist, comfortable thighs. It vibrated nicely.

“And I know Jenny has been looking for an opportunity to become more sexually satisfied.”

Jenny tried to get up, but David wasn’t ready for it, and instead she just sank back into his comfortable embrace.

“Jenny, that’s where you come in.”

“I come where?” Jenny said, dazed. Heather stood directly above her. The leather bikini bottom was not far from her. Jenny reached out and gently scooped a thin line of lubricant leaking out from the bottom. She tasted it. Yes. Strawberries. Who needed lube when you had the real thing?

“Okay, now I want you to kneel down between David’s thighs,” Heather said.

Okay, Jenny thought. It felt so good to help Heather out, to do what she wanted. Heather was right, of course. Feminism was about more then being mean and unhappy. It was about making choices that worked for the woman. And right now, she choose to help Heather out. After all, she had done so much for Jenny. Like this nice dress. Sexually satisfied. What a nice way to put it.

“Now, feel him up, gently,” Heather said. She hovered around them both. Jenny reached out and pulled on David’s cock. He looked at her apologetically. Why, she wondered. Oh right. He had fucked her. That had been nice.

“Great, you’re doing good. Now, you give him a blowjob, and I’m going to finish the vacuuming. Then, you can move in with us.”

“Sure,” Jenny said, lazily. Happily. She was smiling again, she realized. And she had been doing so well. But that was Heather for you, always great at making a girl smile. Jenny pulled David’s penis out and slipped it into her mouth. It was actually a challenge to keep smiling while she bounced slowly up and down on his dick, but she just felt so good about everything.

I should go, she thought, her mouth full, leaking lubricant onto the carpet. Behind her, Heather hummed while she vacuumed. I have a doctor’s appointment. This is all silly. This isn’t feminism, feminism is about getting banged equally—that is, about politics and literature and other dumb stuff. Oh god. I have to get out of he—

David came, and it was all strawberries.

Becky sauntered into her office around, gosh, she didn’t know, like nearly noon or something like that.

It wasn’t her fault, she thought. After all, she hadn’t even woken up at her own apartment. She had come around with a pounding headache, sandwiched between two snoring boys with her dress hiked up around her tits. She didn’t recognize either of them. That was fieldwork for you, waking up with dried lube all over your thighs and your mouth sore.

She had picked her way across a minefield of sleeping boys and girls, most of them in varying degrees of nudity, nestled closely to each other. If Becky had known Frat Parties were like that, she would’ve gone to more of them.

Before she left Becky looked around for that hot girl that frenched her earlier that night. That was hot. She tingled just thinking about it. But didn’t she want to fuck boys? Boys were fun to fuck. It was confusing.

Becky stopped off at her apartment, luxuriated in the shower, and brushed her teeth thoroughly. That beautiful strawberry kiss taste still lingered, no matter how much she scrubbed. Oh well, it was kind of nice.

For clothes she wore a standard outfit, a jean skirt coupled with a low-slung halter top. It wasn’t even fashionable. But it was still pretty slutty. Becky hefted her tits. They seemed bigger today. Were boobs supposed to grow overnight? Whatever, she wasn’t a doctor.

She took the long route to school, soaking up the gazes and the attention. Becky wondered if she’d see T-Shirt or Blondie again. It was funny, T-Shirt had all the style, but it was actually Blond Boy that had the best dick. It had been like thirty inches or something like that. Anyway, it had felt fantastic.

After sitting at her desk for a good ten minutes, admiring her shoes, a thought slowly coalesced together in her head. David! Ohmygosh, she had almost forgotten about that boy! She was going to blow him, then show Heather that she was the better cocksucker.

The phone rang. Becky picked it up, admiring her nails all the while. She didn’t remember painting them ruby-red.

“Um… hi?”

“Becky, this is Professor Hildeman.”

“Oh!” It was her advisor. “Hiiii!” she chirped.

There was a pause. “Rebecca?”

“Becky.” She said. Becky looked around. No one was around. She snuck a finger down the front of her shorts. That was so naughty. Just like a bimbo.

“Uh, okay, Becky. Have you seen Heather? She’s supposed to meet with me… thirty minutes ago.”

“She’s probably at home getting fucked,” Becky said. Her hand was busy now. She shifted down in her chair. Gosh, you’d think it’d be sore or something. No wonder bimbos had such amazing sexual stamina. She should do a paper on it or something. Although that would probably be boring.

“Uh… are you feeling okay, Becky?” the Professor said.

“Great Professor!” Becky enthused. “I’ll tell Heather to get her ass down here.” She hung up.

Her hand stopped moving. If Heather was coming over, then she shouldn’t waste a good cum. She didn’t want to be tired when she tried to give David a good fuck.

On the other hand, what the hell? Bimbos had the stamina. She rubbed a little harder.

Candice could barely move. Not because she was sore, but because she was stuck underneath the slumbering forms of three or four guys. She pulled him aside, gently avoiding his naked, sleeping dick. Then she tugged her dress down and stood up.

For a moment she panicked. She couldn’t remember her number! All that work, a long night of sucking and fucking, lost because she couldn’t remember exactly what she had done!

She reached down to wipe her thighs off, and stopped. There, glistening faintly in the dim fraternity light, was “207” written in dried lubricant. Candice smiled. Actually, 208. She had drawn a “+ 1” right before falling asleep. Right, the boy next to her.

Candice stepped carefully around the sleeping boy/girl, boy/girl/girl, and boy/boy/girl groups, and emerged into the sun. Somehow she had ended up at a different fraternity. She checked her watch and took off at a fast walk for her dormitory. Her meeting with Heather was later today, and she didn’t want to miss her moment of triumph. “Too heavy,” her ass!

“Can’t believe I forgot about this meeting!” Heather muttered, darkly. Caught up in the intellectual vigor of discovery—that and the fucking—Heather had nearly forgotten that her new Project depended on his Professor Hildeman’s. And she had nearly missed the meeting! Sad to say, she owed Rebecca an apology.

David had come along with her, because she had an idea of how to use him in her next project. Also because Heather couldn’t bear the idea that she wasn’t meeting his needs. He was flanked by Jenny. The dazed petite asian girl was nearly walking bow-legged after David had given her an enthusiastic fuck on the kitchen table. She clutched David’s arm tightly and wore a deep, contented grin. Heather had dressed her in a floral print Chinese-themed dress she had found somewhere. Jenny had been delighted to try it on. There was no underwear, but that was okay, because Heather wasn’t wearing any either. David’s own expression was happy but startled.

They entered the building and walked past the stares of a dozen undergraduates.

“Okay, David, can you wait in here while I meet with Jenny and get ready for this meeting?” Heather asked. “It’ll just be a few moments. I’ll send Jenny out when I’m done with her, that’ll be nice for you.” Jenny smiled and closed her eyes. The two women walked away, in near-unison.

“Hi Davey,” Becky said. She had found a lollipop somewhere, and let it slip back and forth between her lips. He’s going to think it’s a cock, she thought smugly. And that will make him totally hot.

“Rebecca,” David said. He looked at her warily. “What are you wearing?”

“Do you like?” Becky said. She giggled. It wasn’t anything special, really. Just a pair of white short shorts that hugged her charms, and a light teal halter top. She had changed after lunch. This outfit was really just too cute. What was she doing? Oh, yeah. She had to seduce Davey.

“I like it okay,” David said, pulling back. He took stock of her outfit.

“Bet you don’t know many blondes like me,” Becky cooed. She turned, slowly, letting him get a good look. This had to work. She looked like a complete bimbo. The only thing missing was the sexy underwear, but those just got in the way.

“Eh,” David said. He looked away.

Becky panicked. He didn’t think she was pretty!

“You don’t think I’m pretty!” she said, stamping her feet. She nearly tripped in her heels.

David sighed. “Look, I know what’s going on here…”

“Then what’s going on here, Davey! Are you gay or something?” Becky said. That would show him!

“Oh Christ,” David rolled his eyes. “You really are a dumb bimbo.”

Her pussy exploded. It had worked! He really believed that she was a dumb bimbo! Becky half-walked, half-sunk into his lap, before he could react.

“It’s so true!” she said, smiling. “I’m just your dumb, slutty bimbo. YOUR bimbo. Not like Heather, not ordering you around, doing what—” she fished for his dick. “—ever you want to do!”

“Rebecca!” Heather said, exploding out of her office door. Becky cringed. Right, noise could go through doors! She had forgotten!

“Ignore her!” Becky said, frantically. She searched for his dick. It was so close. David’s cock. She wanted it so bad!

Heather stormed into the room, took David by the hand, and unceremoniously pulled him up. Becky slid to the floor, a screeching pile of T and A. Heather took in the blonde lying on the floor, her shorts soaked through.

“Alright, you want David? Then wait right here.”

She yanked him headlong through the door, glared at Becky one last time, and slammed her office closed. Becky waited, in near tears, as she picked up on the hurried sounds of pants coming off. She had been so close! And now she had to get off so… very… badly. If David had just TOUCHED her… god!

A moment later Heather emerged from the room, holding her right hand at her side.

“If I let you have this, will you leave David alone?”

Becky took a good look at her right hand. She recognized the sticky whiteness instantly. And the smell. Oh god. Strawberries.

“Oh…” she moaned, walking towards it. Her mouth watered. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d do anything for it. Please.”

Heather held it back. “Anything?” she said, one eye raised.

Becky was far too gone to recognize a warning. “Come on, just let me have it,” she said. “Pleeeeeeeease.”

“I don’t know if a girl like you deserves it,” Heather said, still holding back.

Becky felt tears coming on. “I’m sorry! I… I just thought that being a dumb bimbo..”

“Dumb bimbo? Pretty damn dumb,” Heather considered. “Hey, you can have it if you can answer a few questions.”

Her hand was starting to drip. “Anything!” Becky said, desperate.

“Okay, dumb bimbo. Who is known as the founder of Psychology?”

“Um.. umm…” It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t stop staring…

“Bzzzt! Sigmund Freud. Too hard for a dumb bimbo! What is the square root of 36?”

“8?” Becky guessed. Who cared about numbers at a time like this?

“Bzzt! Last chance. What is the capital of Washington?”

This one she knew. Becky smiled, triumphantly. “Washington DC!”

Heather stopped to think about it. “Bzzt! No! The answer is Seattle! I’m sorry!”

“Ohhh.. please!,” Becky said. She hefted her boobs. She knew it was silly, but that was the only thing a dumb bimbo like her had… her tits and her ass. It wasn’t like she was all Ms. Smart-Girl like Heather was. “I just want it really, really bad. I’ll do anything.” She hesitated a moment. “So long as I don’t have to do smart stuff.”

Heather bit her lip and cocked her head. “Anything?”

“...And THAT is the idea behind my project, Professor!” Heather said, putting her arms down. There was a moment of silence. Heather smiled. She knew she had made an impression. The Professor’s eyes only briefly met hers. Most of the time he was lost in the wonders of her chest, as it tented out her summery white and yellow blouse. Not many buttons were done up. Her pencil skirt rode high enough to expose the tops of her legs from behind his desk.

“Do you like it? I’ll just need permission, I already have the funding,” Heather said. She waited. After a moment, she bent forward. The project hung so clearly in her own mind, a grand experiment about uniting men and women in a happier configuration. “Surely you’d agree that male/female relations need a LOT of work!”

“Yeah, but…” the Professor flipped gingerly through her slides. She had gotten bored making them and filled half with pictures of cute guys from Dawson’s Creek and 90210. They made her point. “This is hardly better. Your proposal sounds like some sort of… bizaare… depraved… harem!”

Heather tossed her hair back. That got a look. “Maybe that’s what the end result WILL look like,” she purred. “But I like to think I’m willing to see what will happen. I like to see… reactions.”

The Professor kept shaking his head. “Heather, I can’t in good conscience approve this.. what isn’t illegible is incomprehensible! Are you… I don’t know… alright?”

Heather’s eyes flashed. “I don’t think you understand,” she said, as sweetly as she could. Heather got a sudden idea. “The project is already moving forward. Let me introduce you to one of our first researchers.”

A moment later, she ushered the confused Candice into the room. The formerly overweight girl had showered, and changed into a thin blue pair of running shorts and matching collared shirt. Her shirt was soaked with sweat. Her nipples were hard as rocks.

“This is Candice, one of our undergrads,” Heather said. “Turn around,” Candice.

Candice, startled, nodded at the Professor and twirled swirly. Heather nodded when she saw him examine her ass.

“Candice,” Heather said, “Go show the Professor what you’ve been working on.”

Candice’s eyes widened. “But.. he’s a Professor. I think I have a class with him next semester… do we really need him for the…”

“Candice!” Heather said. She waited for a moment. “It’s worth… one hundred points.”

Candice trembled. “One hundred points?”

Heather nodded solemnly. “One. Hundred. Points. No one has ever gotten one hundred points before.”

Candice looked guiltily at the Professor, then walked unsteadily up to him. Before the Professor could do react, she had sunk to her knees and pulled open his belt. He started to choke in outrage, but Candice looked up at him with deep blue eyes and said “I’m sorry, Professor.

“But it’s one hundred points.”

Then she went down on his swiftly hardening dick.

Heather watched until her own needs got a little hard to ignore. She left the room and wandered back to her own office.

Was it okay to impose on David? she wondered. After all, he had done so much for her.

After a moment, she smiled.

Ah, he owed her one.

EPILOGUE:

Heather stretched on the desk. Most of her outfit wasn’t able to make the trip. She put both of her fantastic legs up. It was amazing how well things were going, now that she had time to work.

In the office on her right, she could hear Jenny’s contented moaning as she slurped noisily on David’s cock. Of course, Heather had a go on his amazing rod whenever she needed a good coffee break, but Jenny was mostly in charge of satisfying David’s sexual needs. She did an amazing job, in Heather’s opinion. Between her ever-growing repertoire of outfits and her willingness to take it at almost every time, David and Heather had no cause for complaint about her services.

She had been so good, Heather had decided not to complain that she was fucking her Jogging buddy on the side. Although she might have to say something about that happy, care-free smile Jenny always sported. It was getting wearing.

Rebecca, or “Becky” now, was out in the main room, trying to type with her ridiculous nails. She wore a light green miniskirt that showed off a lot of leg. She was a pathetic secretary but a fun shopping partner. Now that her snootiness was gone, and she had found an interest in daytime TV and pussy-licking, Becky and Heather had become fast friends. So long as Becky remembered her place.

Candice, if she remembered right, was busy in the bathroom with a water bottle. Once David had explained that lubricant had some kind of odd, relaxing effect on people, Heather had reassigned her to R&D. She spent her mornings, Mondays and Wednesdays, on a treadmill, then Heather sent her to the bathroom with a specially-adapted vibrator. It collected moisture. And a lot of it.

The Female Empowerment Project was running so smoothly that Heather barely had anything to do. But there were certain tasks, like this one, that couldn’t be avoided.

The girl in her office sputtered in confused outrage as Heather studied her nails.

“Sorry, dear, what’s the problem?”

“It’s my roommate. Candice. I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but she’s sleeping with this guy.. even when I’m trying to sleep! And when I complain, she offers to let me.. join in! What have you done to her?”

Heather flashed the girl a smile. She pulled out a bottle and handed it across the table. The girl looked distracted. She was a redhead. Redheads were cute.

“Sorry it’s so hot in here,” she said.

“Would you like a drink of water?”