The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Tiffany Williams and the Carlton Crescent Cheerleaders—Sorry, Dance and Drill Team—were heading her way, so Casey leaned against her locker and tried to stay out of sight. It should have been easy; the closest thing Casey had to a distinguishing feature was runaway acne, but thanks to her brother…. Why’d Tyler have to date the lead bitch, anyway? Oh yeah. She made a face. Her legs and he’s the matching stud muffin.

Don’t do anything, she cautioned herself. You’re probably not even the real target, so ignore the snide comments. Today you can’t afford another detention. This afternoon you have to seal the deal. After school Casey would be out with Julie, Jimmy, and Andrea, having fun for a change. Trying to ditch Julie and Andrea, actually. Getting Jimmy off his computer was hard enough without wasting an afternoon where she’d succeeded.

Sure, Jimmy wasn’t much of a catch, but he was interested, interesting, and he treated her OK. Tonight he was going to clue in, or else, and they’d start dating for real. Tonight she was going to corner him, rip his pants off, and give him the best blow job, ever. I’m finally going to put all those weeks of downloading and getting up in the middle of the night to watch pornos to use, and Jimmy’s never going to forget. He’ll be mine forever!

All she had to do was survive the next sixty seconds. Another minute the wanna-be alpha bitches would have their books and be gone. She’d have her Jimmy and—

“Oh puh-lease stop humming,” the big-titted and blonde cheerleader stereotype, Amber, moaned, cutting through Casey’s daydream. “I Kissed a Girl is so gross.”

“You think?” said Tiff. “I like it. It’s catchy. Besides, blame Britt. She got it stuck in my head.”

“Britt doesn’t even know what the song’s ’bout. Her little virginity band would tarnish if she even knew about lesbians.”

“She’s religious, Amber, not stupid.” Tiffany fluffed out her honey-brown hair with a dismissive head-toss, then turned and looked Casey right in the eyes. “Hey, Casey, could you—”

Casey wilted. She just couldn’t catch a break. Now that Tiff had picked the target, Heather and Amber were sure to pounce

“Yes. Hello Casey,” sighed Heather, the porcelain goddess’s perfect red hair swishing as she turned to look pointedly away, as though she feared catching some of Casey’s abundant zits. “Now go away.”

“And go see a doctor,” Amber said with a giggle. “It’s too late to save your face, but maybe if your rich da-da buys you implants no one will notice.”

“Oh you want sick, Amber,” moaned Kade, a tiny and tightly toned, dark-skinned Asian. She rolled her eyes. “That’s sick. Talk about selling out.”

“Hey, if you’ve got them, flaunt them,” said the top-heavy blonde, arching her back to make sure the whole hallway got a good look.

“And if you don’t have them, then what? I’m not loading up on plastic! If you’re gonna live, live real!”

“Maybe you should just eat,” snapped Heather. “A burger or two would do you wonders.”

Kade, hands on hips, spun toward Heather and raised herself onto her toes to have some chance of getting into the other cheerleader’s face. “Excuse me?”

“Will you two cut it out?” Tiff demanded before turning her attention back toward her victim. “Casey, could you tell Tyler….”

But Casey was already halfway to the stairs, her backpack open and in serious danger of dropping Fundamentals of Science 11. “Never mind. I’ll call him after practice.” Before she left for Mr. Ding-Dong’s class, Tiff clicked the padlock on Casey’s locker door shut and shook her head.

After school, mere seconds from total freedom, Casey found herself wishing she hadn’t grabbed Jimmy and rushed to stow her junk in her locker. In her haste, she’d just leapt right back into the lion’s den. If she’d gone with Jimmy to his locker on the second floor or met with him outside, everything would be all right now. Instead she was back in fight-or-flight mode, waiting and see which of them was the prey.

Duh. Her tits are practically falling out of her top, so it’s not going to be me. Not this time. But then again, sometimes Amber could spring a surprise just by being so stupid. Or maybe she’s a closet lesbian.

“Jimmy,” cooed Amber, her blue eyes gazing and full of languor. “I’m, like, stuck. Mr. Ding-Dong assigned way too much homework again, and I’ve got practice tonight. Regionals are coming up, you know and I….”

“Jimmy’s busy tonight,” said Casey. She tried not to roll her eyes and apparently failed because Amber’s bright blue eyes did a flip of their own.

“Uhm.” Jimmy glanced from Casey’s face to Amber’s boobs.

You better not, Jimmy. You can’t be that dumb! Remember what happened last time! Her mouth opened, and Casey saw Jimmy’s attention waver again. It snapped shut again. I remind him and it’ll be a month before I even see him again. I’m not going to say… anything….

Jimmy was staring at the rounded and tanned flesh Amber had on display as bait, and Casey knew what was coming next. Amber didn’t even need to add on, “It’s for the school, you know. You do want us to win, right?” But she did.

He was going to fold. He was totally going to fold. Again. You can forget about what I had planned for tonight, Jimmy. I wish we were going steady just so I could dump your stupid ass!

“Ok”

Clueless as ever, Jimmy missed the snarky little grin the buxom and blonde cheerleader shot her non-competition. Or maybe not so clueless, just seriously distracted because Amber arched and rolled her shoulders back to thrust her chest out. Whether the action was to show off, inspire Jimmy to do a really good job, or just to piss off Casey didn’t matter. The little cutesy, “You lose, bitch” smile was the last straw. Casey wound up and released, happy for once that she wasn’t built like an anorexic twig.

“Uhm… Hello? Mr. Garry, the guidance counsellor at Carlton Crescent High, said I should come to see Mister, uh, Labadon?” The place was both huge and amazing. Thanks to her dad and his political connections, she’d seen the inside of a dozen mansions, but this one ruled! It looked like royalty lived there, not just some idle rich asshole shovelling money at her dad for future favours when he was elected.

Casey just touched the huge, dark wooden doors and they drifted open without any effort at all. “The, uhm, butler sent me he— Wow!” She blinked, disbelieving her eyes, and walked into the room, eyes scanning this way and that trying to take everything in. She stood in a finely paneled oaken library that seemed to stretch on forever and ever. The sheer quantity of books…. This is amazing. I could get lost in here forever. It’s like a dream come true!

“Ah! Good morning, Miss Walker!” said the man of wealth and taste. He put down his glass of wine, stood, and bowed. Classically dressed, he would have looked somewhat out of place in an office building, but among his collection of books… Casey wasn’t ashamed to admit she was kind of turned on. He even sounded intelligent, speaking in the slow, measured manner of a professional speaker, and actually like the bad guy in her should-be boyfriend’s favourite movie, Star Trek II.

“Welcome to my home. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Ebru Labadon. Sol Garry and I do lunch regularly, and he has kept me apprised of the struggles of you and your friends for quite some time. I am interested in helping you out of your current predicament.” He gestured at something behind her. “Please. Take a seat.”

She turned her head. Behind her was a leather seat so inviting that her legs lowered into it without giving her a chance to think about it and before she turned back to look at the middle-aged man. It was delightful, like swimming in warm water. A delicious lassitude washed up out of the dark leather, through her legs, and up into her brain. “What?” she asked, her mind swimming. “What predicament?”

Mr Labadon sat with no wasted effort, lowering himself back into his equally opulent chair. “Your failing grades at school and the torturous damning of your peers. You don’t need much of my help, to be sure, just the confidence those vicious little bitches on the dance squad deny you.”

“Yeah,” she said sleepily, her body sinking into the softness of the chair. It would have been a dream just to sit there forever, but that wasn’t a possibility. She had to be at the math tutor’s in an hour. Besides, Mr. Labadon’s piercing eyes were making her all wet inside.

“All I ask in return is your future assistance.” He lifted his glass, paused and then snapped his fingers. “You see, I am currently without a librarian, and a collection this extensive requires… special attention.”

That woke her up. All these books…. She looked around again, drinking them in. “You’ll help me and I get to work here? Who do I have to kill?”

The butler appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to place a goblet of wine on the black oak table beside her.

“No one.” His eyes shone attractively. Damn attractively. “That would be counter productive. I need you to graduate high school, attain a doctorate in Literary Arts and Library Sciences, and then come work for my firm. Jail time would delay that unconscionably.”

“Yeah,” she murmered, looking at the golden liquid in the goblet. “It would.”

“Please enjoy the drink, Miss Walker. I find it uncomfortable to offer nothing to a guest.”

“Uh, I’m underage?”

He waved dismissively. “In this country, yes, but I consider myself a man of the world.”

“Ohhhkay,” she said, taking an experimental sip. Ecstasy exploded onto her tongue and tickled its way down her throat. She coughed in surprise, then took another, more controlled, sip. Nice! I could get to like this stuff. “This isn’t wine, is it?”

“You have an educated sense of taste, my dear. There are those who call it Ambrosia. It comes from a mountain in northern Greece, originally.

“So are we in agreement? My assistance now and the offer of a stable career in the future in return for your services?”

“Ye—wait. How are you going to help?”

“That matter I will hand over to my lovely assistants Lili and Lilah. They will teach you what you need to build your confidence and best your foes in a significantly less violent manner.” He picked a bell up off the side table and rang it twice. “Lilah will be here shortly. While we are waiting, do you have any questions?”

“What about my friends? Can you help them too?”

“Indirectly, through you. The measure of a man is in the company he keeps. So too it is with women, and no one can properly enjoy life without their friends along for the journey.” As he finished speaking, the huge double doors swung open and a statuesque blonde woman strode in. “Lilah, say hello to Casey Walker. Casey, Lilah will be helping you out with your appearance. Think of her as an image consultant of sorts.”

One look at Lilah and Casey felt her heterosexuality crack. Lilah took beauty to its very boundaries, her long hair almost glowing as it fell over her shoulders in fluffy waves of honey brown onto a light blue business suit. Her blouse was buttoned down, yes, but only enough to say, “I’m a sexy professional and damn proud of it!” and show off a hint of golden-tanned cleavage. Her darker blue skirt ended just above the knees and stockings traveled the rest of the way down to her stylish heels.

“Hello, Casey,” said a voice dripping honey. “You have an excellent bone structure. I can’t wait to bring out the inner you!”

“Uh… thanks. This is like what? Extreme Makeover?”

“Nothing quite so invasive,” said the woman, wasting no time getting down to business. “I just want to teach you a few little tricks to make you more of a match for your cheerleading rivals.”

“Rivals?” Casey’s eyes narrowed. “They’re bitches. I don’t want to be a cheerleader. I want to be me.”

“No?” asked Mr. Labadon. “You do want to destroy their source of power and bring them down, yes? Once they are off your back, you can focus on school, graduation, and training for your future employment.”

“Yes,” Casey said plainly, nodding.

“Then you need to replace them,” said Lilah. “Or destroy them utterly.

“Follow me and we’ll get started.”

She looked back at Mr. Labadon questioningly. He nodded, so Casey fell into line behind Lilah. They walked back out the massive wooden doors, turned left and went up a long and winding flight of stairs.

“School’s not going so well, huh?” asked Lilah.

“Nope,” came the terse reply.

“Well I wouldn’t worry. You’re a smart girl, and once you get your feet back under you, nothing will slow you down. You’ll be at the top of your school’s social order in no time.”

“But I’m not going to be a cheerleader.”

“There are worse ways to spend your time in high school. Statistically, cheerleaders do very well for themselves in the after schooling job market. Perhaps it’s because they have that managerial ‘go-gettitiveness’ so sought after, or perhaps it’s just because they have the bearing and self-presentation skills that make them seem better than they are.”

“That’s probably it. The guys really running the show probably think it’s nice to have a pretty set of boobs around the office to look at every now and then.” She caught Lilah’s pursed expression and finished off with, “Yeah. I’m cynical.”

“Oh, that’s OK. Just don’t discount the importance of either. Knowing what you want and having the will to take it is the first step to success, as a cheerleader or not. Besides, a nice rack is just gravy if you know how to dress like you have a nice rack. Image is everything.”

A hallway and some idle talk later, Lilah flipped on a light, spun a large metal and leather chair around, and invited with a two handed gesture. “Take a seat and I’ll get started.”

“Looks like a barber’s chair.”

“It is,” Lilah said. “That and more. I always find haircutting useful to get a feel for a person. The Boss is pretty big on you if he’s assigning both me and Lili to your dossier.”

“My what?” Casey asked, sitting in the chair.

Lilah cocked her head as she inspected Casey’s hair. Then she pumped a pedal twice and Casey felt herself rising. Her lank bangs fell over her eyes. “Nerd word for handling your case. Helping you out.”

“I knew that.” Casey brushed the hair out of her eyes, then pulled her arm back down to her side as Lilah unfurled a large cape, draping it over the front of Casey’s boring body and tying it tight around the girl’s neck. “I’m just surprised.”

“Don’t be. We prize competence greatly, so we keep an eye out so we can—”

“Who’s we?”

“Inquisitive. I like that. A smart girl questions everything, but does what needs to be done when it comes time.” Lilah nodded. “I think we’ll start with a shampoo and dry. So… tell me about yourself.”

Casey shrugged carefully so as not to disturb Lilah. She felt the chair tip back, lowering her hair into steaming water. She heard a snap behind her as Lilah closed a large bottle of shampoo and then the woman’s nails began to tease Casey’s scalp. Those stupid TV ads about the woman having a sexual experience washing her hair actually were pretty close to the truth when done right. The smell of the soap and the feel of it against her skin was out of this world. As Lilah massaged, Casey sighed, leaned back, and began to relax. Lilah asked questions, and Casey babbled her responses.

Standing in front of the mirror and looking at the auburn wave that started atop her head and proceeded most of the way down her back, Casey gasped. “It… It was only down to here,” she said, tapping her shoulder, “earlier.”

“That was earlier.”

“These are extensions?” Casey’s face lit up. “You are a goddess!”

Lilah smiled. “Not even remotely. I just know what I’m doing.”

She had honest-to-god curls at the bottom. Surrounding her face were long curves, the one that passed over her left eye looked especially hot. She actually looked pretty with the light red-brown framing. Her hair looked as good—no, better—than Heather’s, only not as bright a red. “Too bad I’ll ruin it the first time I shower.”

“Nope,” came the terse reply. Casey cast an imploring gaze for elaboration, and Lilah smiled back, relenting after a few moments. “Because I won’t let it. Now then, tomorrow—”

“Tomorrow? What about—”

“Do not cut me off. If you look out the window, you’ll see that it is getting late. If you leave now and rush, you won’t have to explain to your mother why you missed dinner.”

“I will have to explain this,” said Casey, pointing at her long and lush head of hair.

“Only if you want to.”

What did that mean? ‘Only if you want to?’ The question haunted her all the way home, a half walked, half run affair back to the school and to the bus stop. Dinner wasn’t all that important, but Lilah put some strange emphasis on it for some reason. Also, missing the last bus would have really sucked.

“Casey? Whoa! What’s up with the hair?” asked her brother, Tyler, when she stepped into the dining room.

“You look very nice, dear,” said her mother, briefly looking up from her meal. “Although I can’t imagine where you got the money.”

“Where did you get the money?” her dad asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, and her dad shrugged and returned to eating.

“Whatever,” Tyler mumbled around a mouthful of steak. “Looks good. Almost as good as Tiff.”

Casey froze and looked over her family. That was the easiest she’d ever gotten away with anything. Her brother even compared her favourably with his hottie cheerleader bitch of a girlfriend. As she thought about it, why shouldn’t he? Lilah’s hair mastery had Casey looking way hotter than that dark-haired bimbo, at least from the neck up. If only tits and legs were as easy as a haircut.

“Do what we tell you to do,” Lilah said the next day after school, “and we see to it that you are rewarded. We’re trying to help you out, after all, so it is in your best interests.”

“But how? It’s like they just suddenly stopped caring, but not not caring because Tyler said I looked nice. And when I got out of the shower and towelled off, my hair didn’t take any work at all. It dried on its own and when I ran a comb through it, it just… just looked right.”

“Because you wanted it.”

“So if I want styled hair bad enough, it’ll just happen. Sorry, but that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look at the mirror, Casey.”

“Why?”

“Just look at the mirror,” the blonde snapped, “and forget about the garbage they teach in school.”

Casey turned back toward the mirror. The outfit she and Lilah had selected complimented her body well, But it clashes with—

“My hair!” Her hands flew upward

“Precisely. You see, there isn’t a reasonable scientific answer for everything. Getting back on topic, you said the white of the blouse needed a sharper contrast. Black fills that requirement quite nicely.”

Casey looked closer. Tyler’s Tiffany almost stared back at her. The makeup, the hair, the uniform, the everything else except the legs and tits. “This is impossible!”

“Yet it is, and therefore it isn’t. Once you know the trick, you can look like this whenever you want.”

“How.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

Lilah smiled. “Start by focussing on blonde hair.”

An eyebrow raised and Casey’s lips pursed. “What?”

“Think blonde. Just blonde. Tell yourself, ‘I have blonde hair’ and mean it.”

“Uh, I have blonde hair?” Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened. This is silly! But my hair did change colour….

“You didn’t mean it,” Lilah sighed. “Order yourself to have blonde hair. Take command of your body and bend it to your will.”

“I have blonde hair!” Casey shouted and began to giggle. Then her hair lightened at the roots. “I have blonde hair?” She grabbed a lock and held it in front of herself to examine. Once it started, the golden wave flowed through her hair front to back, scalp to tips.

“Do it again. Go for something really blonde.”

“This is really blonde!”

Lilah shook her head. “Think it. Picture it!”

Casey closed her eyes and concentrated hard. When she opened them again, her tresses were so fair that they looked almost white.

“There you go. You give the White Queen of Narnia a run for her money now.”

“She wasn’t all that—” Casey stopped as her lips turned bright red.

“See? It’s easy.”

“How?” Her eyelashes thickened.

“Magic.”

“Cooooool.” Her hair turned back to midnight black, this time without the waves. One perfect glistening sheet ran down over her shoulders and down her back.

“Alright,” said Lilah. “Now that you see how easy hair really is, let’s get you dressed. Then we can get started on makeup. That red’s just a little too unsubtle.”

“I’m trying out Vampire, but it looks stupid dressed like a cheerleader. Can I do the thing with the clothes, too?”

“Darling, you can do whatever you want. I’d be the last person—well, maybe second last—to stop anyone from having a little fun. Tell me, is your brother… hot?”

“Eeww. No,” was her initial response, but not the truth. “Maybe, but he’s an asshole.”

“Beauty is only skin deep,” Lilah said. “Now let’s really get you dressed up. You know, I never had Barbies when I was growing up….”

This time I left early enough to walk to the bus, and it’s fantastic! Her hair swayed back and forth as she walked, the very tips brushing the thin band of skin between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her skirt. It was a very thin band, nothing slutty, but you could have fooled Casey. I can feel the guys staring at me. I’m not like fit or fat-titted or anything, just hot! A little concealer and Lilah’s acne meds and I look like I could be on the cover of a magazine!

She bounced up the stairs on the bus, showed off her ticket and slender new wallet, and made sure everyone got a look at her framed by the doorway. OK, maybe it was a little obvious but…. Crap! Not her!

“Casey? Whoa! What’s up with the hair? Hot date?” said Tiffany.

Of all the people that could be on the bus, not her brother’s dim-wit girlfriend! Not with her mutant cheerleading bimbo buddies. Actually, Tiffany was bad enough—insufferably cute with her black hair, little button nose, and perfectly proportioned body—because Tyler never stopped with the comparisons, but now…. I just need the legs to match her! And my own group of parasites like she always comes with.

“Yeah! Like, hot like a dog, you know?” giggled Amber, the vacantly blonde, lying, cheating, boy-stealing stereotype that made Casey almost sick to be the same gender. She’d changed out of her uniform, thank god, but she’s done herself up almost exactly the way Lilah said not to.

“Look good, look attractive, but always dress to show what you’re really worth,” was Lilah’s advice. Well, Amber looked cheap. Maybe she is cheap, Casey thought, but Lilah says never look cheap, even if you are. Anyone who wants you to look trashy, you’re better off without.

Jeez. Why does Jimmy keep falling for her shit? He’s supposed to be smart! It can’t just be the boobs. Why couldn’t I have given her a black eye or something?

Heather just looked away and sniffed. She’d always struck Casey as having no existence outside being a cheerleader. Even now, she had her school sweater on, her “I am a Cheerleader, and you aren’t face” firmly affixed and a complete lack of interest in the world around her. It was a total waste, really, because Lilah always said that the difference between a beautiful face and a hot face was the smile. Heather’s face was awesome in its beauty, but she didn’t use it right. Maybe she had smiled when she won her spot on the squad, but her porcelain-perfect skin showed no signs of creasing.

“What are you three doing on my bus?”

“Your bus? Baby it’s, like, our bus now,” sang Amber. “You can have it back when we’re done with it.”

“It was the bus or bum a ride off of Frodo,” said Tiffany, shrugging. “Football let out earlier than us, so the guys took off.”

Casey nodded her head, picturing the school’s number one freak. He’d been short, once, but then it was like he woke up one day and decided to be bigger than everyone put together. As a short guy, he’d been sort of cool, but as a giant he’d become a total asshole. Given that choice, you take the bus, thought Casey. As if being a one man defensive line gives him some right to everyone at the school with tits.

“Seriously, where did you get your hair done?”

“Tiff, they’re extensions,” said Heather, still not looking. “Just tell her to fuck off, OK?”

Casey just stared at Heather, stunned. When I’m ready to settle things with you girls, you go first. Fucking perfect bitch. I want to see how you’d deal with the shit I’ve had to.

“Yeah,” tittered Amber. “There are, like, more important things to talk about, like my hair!”

Casey swept into class the next day dressed to the nines and practicing the postures Lilah had shown her, tricks to emphasize what she did have (hair and legs, thanks to the heels) and hide what she didn’t (boobs, decent complexion). The skirt was short, but not any more so than what the dance squad wore and the shirt was tight, but nothing that the high school fashionistas Casey butted heads with didn’t wear. She looked hot and all it took was clothes and hair.

I should have done this years ago. Maybe then this place wouldn’t have been so miserable.

“Casey, do you mind?” asked Mrs. Cartier.

“Not one bit,” she replied, drifting her eyes slowly off Duane Barnes and favouring him with a smile. “I just wanted to prove a point.”

“Well, I’d say you proved it. Now will you head off to your locker and put on something suitable for school, not clubbing, then explain to the office why you are late for class?”

“Huh?” Casey stood and gaped at her teacher. “What about them?” She spun and stabbed out a finger at the small clique of cheerleaders dressed in their tight sweaters and short skirts.

“They have a game tonight and a rally at lunch.”

“And I’m not allowed to dress up?”

“Certainly,” said the teacher. “So long as you stay within the dress code.”

A few minutes later, she plunked herself down on a seat in the office waiting room. She tugged her skirt down and made it grow past her knees because—maybe—it did look a little skanky when she sat down.

Beside her sat a sobbing girl in a school sweater. Having been there too many times to count, Casey decided to let her in on the secret: It didn’t matter. “Late, huh? Count yourself lucky. I broke the dress code.”

The girl blubbered something through her hands that Casey couldn’t hear, then ripped her hands away and started screaming. “I shouldn’t be here,” howled Heather. “Look at me! My dad forced me to come to school, but look at me! Look at me!”

Casey had expected something akin to the phantom of the opera, not a zit on the side of the cheerleader’s nose. She was even too stunned to laugh. All she managed was, “Wow.”

“I know! It’s horrible!

“It’s just a zit.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me! I know what it is.”

“Heather, I would kill to have just one zit. Look at me for a second, OK?”

The cheerleader shook her head, refusing to meet Casey even halfway. “You’re you. I’m supposed to be beautiful!”

Well thanks a fuck of a lot, bitch, thought Casey sitting back in a state of shock. You’d think that I’d expect it by now, but…. “Well, you better get used to them. There are a lot more where that one came from.”

The look of horror on Heather’s face was so intense that Casey almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She also almost missed the zit that sprang into existence on the other girl’s face. Almost.

Her eyes widened. She concentrated the same way she did when she changed her hair or clothes, but this time pushed the feeling toward Heather. A third zit appeared.

Casey’s hand flew up to cover the gasp, and Heather stopped blubbering long enough to stammer, “What? What’s happened now?”

“N-nothing!” She thought really hard, harder than ever before, and Heather’s cheeks pulled into a smile. The cheerleader’s lips puffed out slightly to finish the job off. The instant Casey stopped fighting with Heather’s face, the smile vanished and the other girl collapsed back into a mask of terror.

“What was that? I felt… happy just for a second. I can’t be happy with a zit! I’m supposed to be beautiful.”

“Three zits,” said Casey, looking her old enemy over appraisingly. This was going to take some thought because zits alone just weren’t good enough to pay back for three years of misery. Could I make her like zits? Nah. That’s not enough, either. What about—

“Casey Walker?” called a secretary. “Mrs. Gale is rea—Casey? Is that you?”

“Hi!” Casey smiled and stood up, smoothing her shrinking dress. “See you later, Heather.” She really meant it for once.

The vice principal went easy on her. Possibly Mrs Gale showed pity because she’d never seen Casey try looking good before, but more likely she let Casey off with a warning because Mrs Gale had other things on her mind. The strange feeling of euphoria causing the dopy smile and the electric sensation ticking her pleasure centers being first and foremost.

This is so easy! Casey thought as she applied Lilah’s teaching in a completely new way. I made Heather happy for a few seconds, but why stop there? I can make zits instantly, but not that first one. I messed with Heather’s hormones last night on the bus wishing she had to suffer what I’ve got—had—and now I have Mrs Gale so drugged up on happiness that she’ll do anything!

It wasn’t quite what Casey had in mind initially, simply making her happy was the plan and capitalizing on the lack of grumpiness, but it all seemed so simple and irresistible to see how far the normally icy vice principal could be made to go. By the time Casey left the room, Mrs. Gale’s body was a squirming, horny cauldron of confusion, dazed with sexual hunger and no clue as to why.

Casey left, but Mrs. Gale’s lust didn’t go anywhere. Not until she locked the door and dealt with the matter personally, biting down on her hand to hold the screams in as she came and came. She threw out the savaged, cum-coated banana when she finally calmed down enough to continue her day.

The change of clothes required for entry into the class in progress wasn’t an issue, Lilah had spent days covering the nuances of that, and so Casey walked back to class in a light blouse, a school sweater and a pleated skirt with knee high socks, just like the cheerleaders. She also returned without a single mark of her struggle with acne, only a light dusting of freckles. That and a slightly smaller nose.

She knocked on the door and waited for Mrs. Cartier, hitting the teacher with a full dose of confusion, passion, and a flood of hormones that would leave her uncomfortably aroused for quite a while. The intake of breath as her instructor’s body heated to the limits of Mrs. Cartier’s will brought a smile to Casey’s face. Class was going to be so easy from now on.

When Casey walked in, the cheerleaders rolled their eyes as one at the impersonator, Amber muttering under her breath. Casey ignored them. She apologized politely and sat in her seat, smiling as eyes tracked her.

About time somebody gave the uniformed bitches a taste of their own medicine, Casey thought. Thank your lucky stars that it’s me, and not someone with mental problems.

She started by stimulating the sexual desires of the boys around her the way she had with Mrs Gale, but not to the same extent. Her parade already had their interest and once she had them seriously horny, there were no furtive glances at the class’s bitch contingent. On top of cutting off the cheerleaders from their regular dose of adulation, Casey found being the center of attention to be, What a rush! The cheerleaders had it so good all these years, and I’ve been totally missing out!

She gleefully drank in dazed glances and blatant stares. When Amber’s eyes cast Casey a question, trying to puzzle out the ugly girl’s sudden and quite visible, even to the mentally challenged blonde cheerleader, popularity, Casey smiled back.

She wants to know what’s up? I think I’ll show her. What’s sauce for the guys is now sauce for the bimbo!

Amber’s eyes widened as something happened deep inside. She squirmed in her seat, abruptly unable to make her body relax. Her glassy eyes tried to follow the lecture, but kept drifting back to Casey as the emptiness between her legs burned. Bothered by the rising temperature in the classroom, she pulled her sweater off, giving everyone looking a flash of skin and bra as her shirt lifted courtesy of static cling.

Casey pondered for a moment and then felt her belly tighten as she copied Amber’s taut stomach. After all, if she was going to steal Heather’s thunder with a perfect face, why not swipe Amber’s Amazing Abs?

Her sweater sagged for a moment, because Casey’s tight new body didn’t have Amber’s stupid big tits, then shrunk to fit like plastic wrap. Casey grinned, catching Amber peeking, and made a similar change to her rival’s wardrobe, shrinking her tee shirt until it looked painted on.

Around her Amber’s classmates giggled, leaving the blonde even more confused. She couldn’t think fast at the best of times, and with her libido on full, there wasn’t much brain power not already in use spinning fantasies of a naked Casey Walker.

Kade, one of her fellow squadies and the token Asian, finally pointed out why.

“Amber, Your high-beams are on.”

Amber’s nipples, longer and harder than ever before, put their thick dents on display through the sheer material of her shirt and lacy push-up bra visible beneath. The cheerleader’s head snapped back and forth, looking for some sort of relief or comfort, but she quickly gave up and pulled her sweater back on. Now that it was as tight as her blouse, it didn’t help. The two large ‘C’s hugged her artificially emphasized tits, warped by her fantastic nipple erection.

I wish I could read minds, Casey thought smugly, and then she concentrated and tied Amber’s shoes together. She looks completely freaked out. She’s not upset by a little bisexuality, is she?

Amber whispered something to Kade and Casey decided to test her theory, injecting doses of raw sexual hunger into Amber whenever she looked at the dark haired and skinned Indonesian girl. Amber stopped talking and focussed on her desk, but it didn’t do her much good. Casey mercilessly juggled her body, spinning its hormones out of control. Soon every girl in the class looked good to Amber. She could hardly think at all because no matter where she looked, she felt a rush of desire. When she saw Casey, her mind emptied.

“Mrs. Cartier?” she stammered weakly, shooting to her feet and then nearly toppling when her tangled shoelaces prevented her from stepping. “Mrs. Cartier? I have to go to the bathroom.”

The dazed teacher looked the blonde up and down, lost in fantasies of her own. She smiled, no doubt now thinking about the blonde sitting on a toilette massaging her pussy until orgasm overwhelmed her. “You don’t look particularly well,” said the teacher, pushed beyond her ability to resist her body’s demands. “I think perhaps I should walk you to the Nurse’s office.”

“Right on!” Casey whispered exultantly. Now how do I make it permanent?

Rumour had it that they never made it to the Nurse, but did get caught in the third floor washroom by a hall monitor investigating the moaning. True or not, Mrs. Cartier’s class did have a substitute for a few weeks before she was formally replaced.

Lilah had punched holes in Casey’s belief in her sexuality, but the raven-locked woman in the midnight black dress shattered it utterly. Her hair surrounded her perfect face in twin arcs that terminated pointing directly at the nipples poking little dents in her tight dress. Where Lilah dressed to impress, her friend’s only concern seemed to be inspiring arousal, and against her will, Casey felt herself getting aroused. Really aroused.

Serves me right for screwing with Amber so much, I guess. It took everything Casey had figured out earlier that day to keep herself under control, and still she went weak in the knees. This has to be Mr. Labadon’s other secretary, Lili.

“There,” said Lili, appraising Casey’s body coolly. “You can’t really get a good lock on what men want until you experience it for yourself. If you want to get and keep a man, you have to know how to out-tempt whatever else life can throw at him.”

“Casey, meet Lili.”

“I figured that out already, Lilah,” Casey gasped. “But thanks. I thought that she was taking over next week.”

“You’ve progressed a little faster than planned. And her, uh, schedule opened up early.”

“So.” Lili turned and looked to the window and unnatural darkness beyond. “You figured out that the earth and everything on it are fluid, malleable to those with the will to ally yourself, as you have, with a higher power.”

“Huh-higher power?” Casey marshalled herself. Her eyes closed and she bit back her rising lust, taking the edge off enough to think clearly. Underneath it all she burned. Lili had an amazing ass that Casey planned on stealing the first chance she got.

“Not bad.” Lili smiled. “I could break that and leave you panting for more, but I cannot teach if you can’t listen.”

“I’ll be off, then,” said Lilah, her normally calm face flushed and her eyes wild with desire. Casey felt her own heat rising again and quickly looked away as her tutor left the room.

It was time for some answers, she figured, so she started with the biggest. “Higher power? Who is Mr. Labadon, really?”

“That is his name,” said Lili in her whispery-soft voice, “as it has been for the past six thousand years. Or at least one of them.”

“Six thousand years? I kinda figured it would be longer. He is Satan, isn’t he? I’m going to get in a lot of trouble for listening to you people, aren’t I?”

“And go to Hell when you die? That is the usual fear, but Mr. Labadon has other plans for you that do not include you dying or suffering. The dead tend to lack the imagination needed to organize his collection. And there are other benefits.” Lili leaned in for a kiss and nothing on the earth could make Casey resist giving in.

“Now,” the succubus told the stunned teen as she wavered on her feet, trying to fight the dizziness. “We are going to show you how to get whatever you want from anyone without tipping your hand. First off, you need to learn to present yourself. Lilah has shown you how to make the tool, but now it’s my turn to show you how to use the tool. You can start by walking.”

“Walking?” Casey asked, her heart racing. She tried to take a step, but instead she wobbled.

“You can reach out and grab anyone you want, but they are essentially worthless if they are not acting of their own free will. If you see it as a game, then they aren’t worth points. In your current state, you’re having a very hard time thinking, aren’t you?”

Casey nodded. It was all she could do with her body on fire and memories of the kiss building.

“Of course you are. And this makes it too easy. It’s not seduction if your subject absolutely can’t say no because you won’t let them.

“So… walk. If you want to topple a clique of self-absorbed sex bunnies, you’re going to need to out sex them and provide significant value-add.”

“Value-add?” asked Casey working hard to put one leg in front of the other.

“If a man already has an emotional investment in another woman, you will need sufficient leverage to break their bond. Your rivals have built up a great deal of added value by being cheerleaders. They can take on or break up relationships simply by offering the fantasy of attaining the unattainable status symbol. If you wish to break up the affairs of cheerleaders, you will need to offer more or the illusion of more.

“We’re going to start with something most teenagers lack—class—so walk. I need to see how you move. When you’re ready, then I’ll show you how to set a snare so tight, no one can escape.

“And stop copying just bits and pieces of others. The whole body needs to flow. One woman’s face on another woman’s body rarely works, but you’ll have to figure out on your own. Taste is one thing that cannot be taught.”

Class required grace, so at Lili’s suggestion, Casey acquiesced to dance lessons and dragged in Andrea and Julie to relieve the boredom. Besides, Mr. Labadon said that the measure of a woman was in the company she kept. If she didn’t want to be a loser anymore, her friends couldn’t be losers, but that didn’t mean Casey wanted to ditch people who’d stuck with her through thick and thin since grade one.

“Why are we doing this?” asked her tall and gawky best friend.

“Do we want to be losers for the rest of our lives, Jules?”

“We’re not losers, Case. We’re… alternates.” Her all black clothing and murky make-up screamed Goth to the uninformed, but Goths didn’t listen to disco and reggae. Jules’ dress sense had more to do with pissing off her born-again dad than anything else. One of the first things he’d done after committing the cardinal sin of marrying Julie’s mother was burn the books Julie’d gotten from the library for a paper on the Wicca and berating her for worshipping the devil.

And if I do this right, she’ll be all in on what I have planned because Steve “call me dad” Hampton will totally flip out. Casey shook her head and pointed over at the tight grouping of cheerleaders marching up the school’s front walk as though they owned the place. “We’re losers. We could be popular like them if we tried.”

“But dance lessons?” asked the other girl, short and built like a pillow. “No way can I dance.”

“All you have to do is lose some weight, Andrea. The dancing will help.”

Julie nodded, but Andrea glared back. “Excuse me, but these hips aren’t all cheeseburgers. There are bones in here. With them, I’ll never be light enough. I’m doomed to being four feet tall and five feet wide.”

“You just leave that to me.”

“To you? How?”

“How? By selling our souls to the devil!” Jules said, her laugh an abrasive braying.

Casey laughed along and did her best to make a joke of it. “No, by being proactive. We have all summer to work on it,” said Casey, reaching in to her friend’s body and ensuring the upcoming growth spurt would be impressive. Andrea would still have to lose a lot of weight, but Casey could help with that, too.

Fortunately for Casey anticipation did little to slow the passage of time and her classes shot past that day. She couldn’t wait to see what would happen when Andrea and Julie met Lili and whoever was going to be teaching the lessons.

Andrea and Julie gaped when they saw Mr. Labadon’s house, and even though they went in through one of the side doors and missed the great doors of the library, Julie lagged behind the other girls wide eyed and trying to see everything all at once. Julie’s eyes bugged out further when she saw Lili waiting for them in the ballroom. This time she had dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black tank top clinging attractively to make a modest pair of breasts seem to be so much more. Her hair streamed down her back in midnight waves, swaying as she drifted across the floor so smoothly that it took Casey a moment to realize the succubus had at least six inches of heel with which she had to contend.

“That’s what I’m wearing!” breathed Julie. “Not the heels, though. How does she walk like that?

“That’s what we’re here to learn,” whispered Casey, forcing her eyes off the demoness and over to the other woman. She was good looking, but not instantly arousing like Lili. Still, the way she carried herself and the gauzy, vaguely eastern gown she wore made her stand out even given her company.

“Is she a model or something?” asked Julie. “I’d kill to look like that!”

“Casey,” Lili said warmly. “May I present Mistress Zelle,”

“Please. Call me Margaretha,” said the stunning brunette woman with a light Dutch accent. “These are the young ladies who wish to learn the captivating art?”

“They are.” Lili smiled and winked at Julie. “Would you care to do the introductions, Casey?”

“Hello Margaretha,” she said, curtsying. “I am Casey. To my right is Julie and on my left is Andrea. We want to learn whatever you will teach us.”

Julie never took her eyes off Lili, but Andrea tried her best to copy Casey’s curtsey.

“Very well then. Shall we begin?”

With that, Lili nodded and strutted out of the room to remove herself as a distraction.

Time flew the way it always did for Casey during her real classes, even though they didn’t do much. The beginnings of the session were spent on Miss Zelle outlining her philosophy of movement, the differences between Asian and European dance and then came lots of stretching.

“I thought this was going to be like Ballet,” said Andrea, gasping for breath. “I’m wasted but this is actually kind of fun.”

“See?” said Julie, panting softly. “You’ll be in shape in no time”

“OK. Seriously,” Julie asked as she and Casey walked to Andrea’s house to meet up and head over to the Labadon mansion for the day’s lesson. “Who are these people?”

“What do you mean?”

“Free dance lessons in a mansion taught by a pro who’s obviously not a teacher and not used to conventional dance. I googled her and you know what I got? Mata Hari. Some erotic dancer shot in World War One for spying on the French. Lili’s some kind of courtesan, not a secretary, and Lilah…. She’s, like, grooming us to be models or something. Probably strippers.

“And I love the hair-do,” she tossed her head and the fluffy black mane, “but did you even look at the costumes? I mean come on! We did a routine to ‘When I Grow Up.’ You know what I think about the Pussycat Dolls. Only one of them can actually sing, and the rest of them do booty pumps while making fake orgasm sounds. They’re gross. Why don’t guys just rent porn and stop pretending like it’s OK? Britney’s at least got an excuse: She’s crazy. What the music world needs is another Prague Maidens, or at least something not so cloyingly pathetic.”

“The Prague Maidens? That was just a Goth Metal girl band. Remember the one video where the camera focussed in on Very Z’s boobs bouncing along with the drums? What’s the difference?”

“That was just one video. The rest were classy and hot. So tell me why we’re going again?”

“It’s about Tiffany and her cheerleaders. I’m sick of them walking all over us.”

“Tiff? She’s actually kind of cool. It’s Heather and Amber that are the freaks.”

“She’s not dating your brother.”

“Thank god. My brother’s ten.”

“You know what I mean. Remember when we tried to set up that junior’s dance? Who ruined it? Tiff.”

“What? The big party at Monica’s place the same night?”

“It was Tiff’s idea. Tyler admitted it.”

“So what’s the plan? We out-slut the cheerleaders?”

“No. We out-class them.”

“By taking stripping lessons.”

“No! Just you wait and see!”

Julie stopped walking and put her fists on her beanpole hips. “I’m not going to unless you tell me what’s going on.”

“How would you like to look like Lili?” Casey asked, prepping her friend with a release of hormones as she turned. “You said you’d kill for it. Would you really?”

“Huh?” Confusion cast a mask over Julie’s face as both the strangeness of the question and the chemically-induced altered state of thinking hit her. “Sure. She looks fantastic.”

Watching the skinny girl’s face flush with undirected desire, Casey began to mould. “Yes she does. Think of what your step dad would think if you looked like her. It’d really get him angry, wouldn’t it? The girl he’s raising becoming a woman. A real woman who inspires lust in all men who see her.”

“Yeah?”

“A woman who makes even him horny.”

“My step dad? He—”

“He won’t be able to resist you, and he won’t be able to have you unless he does what you say. Doesn’t that sound good?”

Julie’s eyes were closed and her face was a giant smile. “Yes.”

“Having a Goth daughter was pretty good for getting under his skin, but what if he thought you really were a slut? What if you could dance and tease like Margaretha?”

“Fun,” she moaned.

“Yes. Fun. What about Lili? You’ve already copied her hair.”

“Huh? She’s like,” Julie licked her lips, “sex on legs. I could never—”

“Yes you can. Now come on. We have to get Andrea.” Casey stalked off with Julie following. What’s wrong with her? She’s my best friend. I shouldn’t have had to do that, I know she’d have liked what I have in mind. She was still in a funk when Lili approached her during a break.

“Julie seems distracted by… something.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but she was being unreasonable, so I gave her a push. She can’t see that I just want to help out.”

“Maybe she does. You have to admit, current events do seem somewhat odd to an outsider. I love what you’ve done with your complexion, by the way. Flawless. And is your nose a little smaller?”

“I kind of lifted a few ideas from Heather Cavanaugh. She was always pretty, even if she’s a complete bitch.”

“Tasteful, but you will also want to raise your cheekbones slightly to compliment what you’ve done with your lips.” Casey felt her face rearrange itself slightly as Lili continued. “Remember that you have to think of the way the whole face—the whole body—works together. A patchwork of attractive features is not attractive.

“Still, I do find myself wondering why, if you’ve taken such liberties with yourself, that you have not solved Julie’s larger problems.”

“For the same reason I’m not packing around a pair of Double Ds. People would freak out.”

“Why? You’ve done something similar with Andrea.”

“She’s just losing weight.”

“And growing taller.”

“Yeah, but people will just think she’s a late bloomer. If Julie or I suddenly got boobs, they’d freak out. She wants to look like you, by the way. Julie, that is.”

“I know. I did that on purpose. It’s good for the young to have goals. Anyway, who said anything about suddenly growing? You have Andrea on a good, slow boil.”

“And why not give Julie some curves and boobs over the summer, right?”

“Exactly, but you might want to include yourself so you don’t get left behind your friends.”

“Right,” Casey said, her mind already whirling with the things she wanted to try out. First things first, she wanted Tiffany’s legs. Some covert study was going to be required to get them to fit in right.