The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was waiting for a girl friend when suddenly it happened.

Now I know what you may be thinking.

Girlfriend?? What? Bovo?! You—

Hold up a minute there, you assumption making teacup tipper. No I didn’t have a girlfriend. Never did. ‘Girl friend’. As in, a friend of mine and she was a girl. That’s the term. And before you call it a playdate, it was supposed to be a couple of us actually. A big superhero movie was out and Tim had called the gang over to watch it. Those who agreed were to convene at his house that afternoon.

The gate opened. I looked up from my comic, then furtively held my breath.

“What?” she huffed once she climbed into the car.

“Nothing.” I looked her over, and couldn’t help myself from taking a mental snapshot and pocketing it into my collection. “So, where to?” I asked, swiping the keys.

“Disney World.”

“The happiest place on Earth, here we come.” I started the kooky car and revved up the engine. It was a lame inside joke. See, we often talked about going to specific places and landmarks over one too many shots of lemonade or a dizzying glass mid-day at some friend’s poolside, but of course never got around to actually going. Probably never would. So these days we just pretended to. We didn’t have much in the way of multi-layered rapport, so that was something.

“You don’t look like a hobo today, Carolyn,” I chimed.

“Psh, rich, Bovo,” Carol rolled her eyes. She kenw she was easy on the eyes, and knew I knew too. But we never took it further than it had to go. Firstly because it just wouldn’t work out—I was no teenage dream, whereas she was immediately desirable anywhere and anytime by practically anyone—and secondly because it just wouldn’t work out. There was a dynamic. There were rules. It wasn’t just between us two. Push one domino, you push them all. That’s how the world worked, and that’s how relationships worked too.

At least, that’s what silly lil’ me thought. It all kind of changed out of nowhere, without proper warning.

It went down when I was in the car. Like I said, while I was waiting for her—Carolyn—that was when suddenly it happened.

Is that... My eyes were scanning the page of the comic I picked up earlier from the grocery store. They just had it lying around, so I thought, ‘why not’. The clerk seemed glad to have it off the shelf, for ‘spatial preservation reasons’. It wasn’t anything special, just a decade-old issue of one of the old, pre-reboot comic lines. As I read through it, I was really getting into the action. It was an action comic, of course—superheroes and supervillains, making things explode and electrify and combobulate. There was plenty of exposition and story stuff too, building up to a great climax. When I got to it (Carol, see, took forever even when forever was sold out) my eyes were met with a wild page, depicting a wild, dramatic fight. And I admit, I was engrossed. I mean, I dug that stuff. It was why I agreed to watch the movie with the gang in the first place. I wasn’t the biggest fan of Gastroman, sure, and his suit came out of the mind of an abominable lunatic, but he had a heck of a villains gallery—take the sultry mastermind secretary, for example. Now that was a hottie. A woman. A fictional character, sure, but alluring. To have such a sexy, foxy woman like that so close by, even if the difference was a couple dimensions, it excited the juices.

But see, she was sexy but for a purpose. And that purpose wasn’t to make out with me, or to make out with Gastroman, or to show off her lubia. Okay, maybe it was to make out with Gastroman.

But really, it was to accentuate her dominating, feminine wiles. It was a part of her supervillain DNA. Porn was for the real climax. The real show. What any hotblooded young male would lay greenbacks to see. And I wasn’t getting it here.

I mean, yeah, I was getting a cool action-packed fight... but I wasn’t getting... ‘off’, per se.

Sure, I could if I just cranked my libido up. Screw it, I nearly did right there. And had, plenty of previous times. Yeah, yeah, shut it saint, I was a bit of a perv when no one was looking, but what can I say, my folks raised me with a silver spoon and Cheerios each morning. One thing naturally just led to another. Like comic book arcs.

But... what if... you could actually distort anything to your own perverted whims, no effort needed? Just with a snap? Or a click? Or hell, I don’t know, a yodel? You get the picture.

What if, you could make an ordinary day, or boring chick flick, or inconspicuous playdate... a fantasy, but in real life? Not necessarily porn—I wasn’t the biggest fan of its most prominently beloved archetypes anyway. It was mainly the sight of boobs and slender legs in a sexual context that tittilated me. It always had something missing; it always lacked that real life element. Where, it happened in a world it didn’t belong in, or with people you knew that would never participate in such things. Where the familiar crossed, literally, with the perverted.

It lacked that one signature to complete the deal. That fulfillment of the implication it brought to the table. That ‘this could happen’, even if technically it never could.

Thankfully, reality had arrived to make it so.

What the—what’s this? My eyes bugged out. Blinking, rubbing my eyes, and pouring some soda into them didn’t work either. Just irritated it.

“Ah, shit!” I winced. “Thought that was my water bottle.” Lips tightening, I waited for my vision to refocus then looked back at the comic. “Holy crap,” I breathed, “it’s still there.”

I waved my hands in front of me. There were words, floating mid-air as if projected from some kind of hologram. I couldn’t really tell what they said. They looked faded out.

“Com...comics? No.” It was hard to believe, but considering this may just be some dream that I fell into waiting for the ever-patient Carolyn to climb in anyway, I went with it, studying the weird, floating words. “Comedy! There you go.” I furrowed my brow. “Comedy? What is? Why? I don’t get it. And why does the next word say Tranny?” My eyes squinted. “No, not tranny... ‘Tragedy’. Genres?” After spending a few seconds squinting at the next one, I saw it, its outline appearing sharper and in better focus. “Drama... okay. And the next one is... ‘Porn’.” I did a double take. “Well. That’s different.”

I don’t know how, or why, but I couldn’t stop staring at that word. It just innocently hovered above the pages of the comic and I stared it down until suddenly, like an app on a phone, I brought my hand up and tapped it. In a flash, the words all folded in the center and vanished. Offering another blink, I awaited the... whatever it was that was supposed to happen when you touched a floating assembly of the word ‘porn’, and sat back.

A bird chirped outside. Some kid said hello to his friendly neighbour. A dog barked.

“Huh,” I murmured. “Nothing happened.” Shrugging, I returned to the comic. “Guess I woke up or something. Man, that Sprite better not had been...” My eyes widened.

I turned the comic over, then back to the page, then back again, then back to the page. What the? I thought. This is... not... I was so speechless even my brain was at a loss for words. But with a swallow, I kept my cool and attempted to just read the page like normal. Maybe... I really did need glasses, like the doctor I went to said. 13 years ago. Looking down, the comic read,

“YES!” cried out the illustrious buxom beauty, Mrs. Pavlov, as Gastroman pumped into her lithe, exquisitely taut body, “FUCK ME, Gastroman! Uhhng, yes, FUCK this little, secretary whore of yours and make me regret ever—ooh!—opposing you, the greatest stud of Meddle City, ’til I promise never to cross you and your perfect cock again!” Winking, she added, “Though, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, after all...”

(Huge splash page of Gastroman half-naked and half-out of his terrible suit, one sensible thing to come out of this, at least, in the middle of the city which was partially totaled and in flames as witnesses scrambled for cover while he thrusted his penis in and out of Mrs. Pavlov, the sexy secretary supervillain, who was riding his cock like a... like a... like a sl...eazy, overtly drunk madwoman.)

I tried to swallow again, but my throat was dried. My eyes were either seriously malnutritioned or something strange really did just happen.

There was no way this passed through censorship checks. On second thought, there was no way this would have passed through conception stage. Or, dammit, subconscious-fantasy stage! Hell its being real was a complete out-of-the-equation possibility; the controversy would have been so enormous his senile grandma would have knwon about it. Not even Frank Miller was that obsessed!

And yet... this looked real. So real.

How? I asked to no one in particular. And then the gate opened, and my thoughts were interrupted, and I recomposed myself.

Never mind that. Maybe it was just a cleverly placed, lewd fan page. I wouldn’t know. Just... best to toss it somewhere out of view before someone caught me reading it.

Throwing it under my seat as Carolyn climbed in, I had started the car and on we went, and so the explanation, then, hath come full circle.

But, as you may have figured, that of course was just the beginning of the mystery. And Carolyn was just the beginning of this long, seemingly never-ending, unbelievable dream.

Vrrr vrrr...

The ride was peaceful, and I took it in gratefully. Carolyn seemed to as well, hand against cheek, staring out the window. Even in the quiet moments, there wasn’t really discomfort between us. Hesitation, sure. I was considering a certain hippie joke for the past 5 minutes or so. But not exactly discomfort.

Why hippie? Well, Carolyn had on a skirt and a leather jacket with sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The skirt showed off her creamy, fit legs graciously. Under the jacket, on the other hand, was a cute little brown v-neck shirt that had in the center, “Hug Trees, Don’t Slug ’Em”. I laughed silently, remembering how she won it at that Eco-Friendly Convention that passed through. She was embarrassed for some reason, but warmed up to it. She even went somewhat green herself a bit, cutting off on excessive light usage and power whenever necessary, or when she didn’t forget.

Funny how the mind works, eh? Outside stimuli, little third-party nudges, all poking at our lifestyle and the way we think. Crazy how the entire world is all perceived in just that tiny little cranium of ours...

“Bovo, you ever wonder what Tim sees in these movies?”

I looked to see Carolyn tapping away on her phone. Probably filling with regret each passing second.

“Oh wait,” she grimaced, “you’re a comic nerd too aren’t you?”

“Slipped you for a bit?” I chuckled. “I’m practically the tolken geek of the group, to be honest.”

Carolyn laughed. “Yeaeah, and we pay you good for it,” she joked.

“Yeah right, being the tolken geek’s hard work, you know. Should earn me 5 figures at the least.”

“Talk it up with Tim, pal. I’m just the pretty face around her.”

I chuckled again, but in a half-assuring tone, replied, “Hey, don’t be so certain. I could always take your job if I wanted to, you know.”

We both unleashed a brief trickle of laughs when Carolyn’s phone rang. She answered it, bringing it to her ear. “Hello? Yeah, hey Rachel. Yeah. Yeah we’re on the way, just turning on Teddy Ave. Okay, yeah. Haha, whatever, just pull ’em up one by one, ya fish.” Carol put the phone back across her lap.

“Who was that?”

“Alan Turing.”

“Oh, didn’t know you slept with mathemticians.”

We laughed a little again, and I shook my head. The really funny thing was her calling some of her friends or acquaintances ‘fish’. They were used to it by now, and some actually liked it, if you got ’em to admit it. But it was not going into the slang dictionary anytime soon. And it just made me feel like going to the acquarium.

“Hey, Carolyn—" Unluckily, I choked on each one before they ever came out.

The... the words! My eyes were bugging out again.

“H-hey, watch the road, Bovo!” Carol gripped the armrest as I slammed a brake to make a left turn. We were in the residential neighborhoods now, on the way to Rachel’s. Hopefully she didn’t mind the lateness. If she did, though, then I’d leave it to Carol to explain. Or articulate an excuse.

“Sorry,” I exhaled, back at non-heart-racing speed. The keys dangled softly from the ignition. “I was... just...” As I turned to look at Carol, who was studying my own expression with a curious face, I blinked. “... distracted.” They’re... there. Still. They’re still there! I swerved my eyes back to the road before running into a fence, but no doubt about it....

Those words, ‘COMEDY’, ‘TRAGEDY’, ‘DRAMA’, and ‘PORN’... they were hanging above Carol’s head now. Or at least, by her.

Just like with the comic.

My brow wrinkled as Carol watched mr intermittently from my peripheral view.

There was no way. Of course there was no way. After all, he was just imagining things, like in fantasies, like in lonely nights with one busy hand and a durable mattress, like yesterday in the bathroom.

What I saw in the comic... what happened with those vanishing words...

Really. What was that? Some kind of illusion? Heat waves? Some sorta trick?

I would have dramatically closed my eyes, but I had a road to glue them to. So I just dramatically half-lidded them. No. No, that... was definitely there. They were there by the comic, now they’re there by Carol. Which means... Carol seemed to have settled down and returned to staring out the window. I glanced at her quickly. It was almost irrational how beautiful she was. Not really in that traditional way, but in low-key; naturally. Her hazel-hued hair ran down her shoulders at just the right length. Her eyes were gaudy and mesmerizing. Her chest gently moved with each breath, and yes, she was fairly well-endowed, so the effects were not minor.

In other words, from a friend to a friend, she...

She...

She’d understand why I had to try, right?!

Before I even had the chance to look like a manic buffoon and swing my arm over to tap the words, though, the ‘PORN’ selection suddenly took on a glowing outline, and then after a few seconds, like last time, folded inward with the rest of the words, as if being warped into some invisible suction hole, and magically disappeared.

The car purred on as I just sat there, one eye on the road, another on Carolyn. Nothing looked different about her. In fact, nothing changed at all. She was in the exact same position, doing the exact same thing as before. Staring listlessly out the window, looking like an accidental photoshoot model for a frame.

Well then, I gulped. That was...random. And... uneventful. I shook my head, turning my whole self—and attention—forward. Rachel’s house wasn’t much farther. I sighed. Never mind. What am—WAS I thinking? About my own friend for pete’s sake! And besides... there’s no way that really could... ever ... I mean... possibly happen. I’m just... I... I need a breather or something.

As I reconciled with myself and my own incessant pangs of guilt, we approached Rachel’s house. I pulled up by the front sidewalk and looked at Carolyn, who looked back at me.

“I’ll get her,” she said for me, and began opening the door.

Ring ring! Ring ring! Looking back at me, Carolyn closed the door and sat back in her seat. It was coming from her phone. She looked at the screen. “Rachel,” she mouthed to me, then answered it. “Hey girl, you ready?“

I nearly spit out my Sprite from what happened next.

Sweet Carolyn, the girl who quietly objected to school field trips, liked to act cool, and made decent comebacks, that Carolyn, the beautiful one, the one you’d kill for just to get a cheek kiss, which she’d probably do before demanding you hand over 50 bucks or else get castrated, threw me a sudden, furtive glance and adjusted herself in the seat while talking.

“Oh... yeah... uh-huh...” I paused. The tone of her voice sounded different somehow. Relaxed. Like you’d be at a massage parlor. Which she wasn’t. I looked at her, She had one leg over the other while tilting slightly away from me, and with part of her back facing me. Not exactly ergonomic.

“Uh... uh-huh... mm...hmm...” Her face looked scrunched, brows strained in an expression of concern similar to the one she had earlier. It was hard to really tell from the side, especially with her shoulder hiding most of it. I then noticed the shoulder twitch a bit, and I followed the length of her arm down and blinked. It seemed to be shaking rather rigorously.

“Ohh yeaah.... no problem... Rachel,” she said, with a surprisingly soft lilt. Her body started to shake even more. Her thighs became tightly clenched, and this time it was clear that her arm had her free hand in between them. This was where I nearly spit out my Sprite. Her hair began to fall loosely over her eyes and face as her head rolled on top her neck as if experiencing sex for the first time. It made her look prettier somehow. Despite the weird, totally not possible occurrence coinciding with it.

“I... promise... not to be late next time...” Her voice was coming out in strained bursts now, as if she got the air knocked out of her diaphragm for each word. Now the slosh of her fingers were distinctly audible, and I began to panic. Meanwhile, she continued seriously frigging herself off with her hand. It came to the point where the whole car was shaking, and then she was slamming her body against the seat and writhing in it like a possessed nymphomaniac. “I... swear on my thick, juicy vagina... that I... Carolyn Francesca Pellingham, will never be late for my dearest and all-beautiful friend Rachel... again...”

“Carolyn,” I choked out, “are you alright?”

She looked my way with an attempt at her nonchalant smile. “She’s almost out, don’t worr—ooh! Oh my god!”

Suddenly, she dropped the phone and positioned herself so her back was straight against the seat and her body was facing straight in front of her. Then her legs jerked upward and her back slid up the cotton seat and her two hands plunged into her vagina so furiously it was like she was digging for gold, skirt sezing up in all directions. “Oooooh!” She moved her pelvis in a violent circular motion, causing her back to rub erratically against the seat, which in turn caused the car to shake even more. Seriously, even for a really good solo session, this didn’t seem appropriate.

“CAROLYN, HEY, GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!” I begged.

“OOOOHHHH!” she shouted back, one hand now carressing her face, wet with pussy juice, a peculiar look in her gaze. “I’m just so... beautiful.... nnh...” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Tears of joy, that were. Her hand went everywhere, stroking her hair, then her arm, then her tight stomach. Then it slapped her own vagina with her other hand still docked inside it twice, then slapped it again. “I, Carolyn Francesca Pellingham, am such a damn irresistible hottie that needs something inside her tight ass and body, to make right the wrong of not giving myself to the world whenever I had the chance all those times before!!” she scream-slurred before finally releasing one half-choked squeak, stiffening up, eyes widening then barely closing with those same piercing light brown pupils, then growing limp and falling back against her seat with a thud, lights out, eyes closed. Sex was in the air, discharge dripping down her luscious thighs. A soft snore began to escape her lips, as I sat there stunned.

What... the fuck... was that. I looked at Carolyn, fast asleep. She looked cute, disheveled. Hair more freely sprawled across her face. Looking blissfully unconscious. I gulped. It was almost too tempting not to reach out and touch her. If anything, just to know she was real. And that what just happened was not a very vividly imagined fantasy. And speaking of which, I had a very uncomfortable hard-on right that moment.

Just then, a motion caught my eye outside. It was Rachel, waving goodbye to her folks. She hurried down the pathway to the car. When she got nearby she knocked on the window on Carolyn’s side and waved, short black hair bobbing as she perkily moved and went toward the back of the car.

“Hiya guys,” she said in that trademark, sweetly pitched voice as she clambered in, placing her bag against the middle seat, “sorry but not much time to dawdle. Tim expected us over there a half hour ago.”

Clearing my throat, I calmed myself down and tried to act casual. Something wasn’t right. Definitely not right. But things were moving along in such a weird way that I just decided to go along with it all for the time being. Rachel didn’t seem to notice anything off about Carolyn’s messed up hair and unladylike sleeping posture, or the pungent aroma which I elected to roll down a window for. And, thinking straight or not, I decided to run with it.

“Eh, he’ll be alright,” I mocked with a wave of my hand as I looked at the rearview mirror. I stopped. Well, not entirely—my hands and feet were still starting up the car and as we began to move Rachel began to hum a cute little melody to the beat of her tapping fingers. Except, her own feet were quite unconventionally spread out—as in, she had her legs splayed from one side to the other with one foot against the top of Carolyn’s seat and the other right against mine by the head cushion, inches away from my left ear. This was what I stopped to look at, and gulped, feeling some miniscule liquids of my own from the tightening rod in my pants as I slowly drove back into the main streets.

“Dunno if you’re serious, Bo,” Rachel replied with a slight pout, oblivious, “but you remember the last time we were late to another one of these outing things. Tim made a sissy fit.”

“Uh-huh... right. Hey, Rachel,” I coughed. The thing about her position was that, not only did it seem just a bit unoptimal, it offered a worm’s eye view from the mirror that, in all honesty, was hard to look away from. “You...you know you could sit with your legs together, right?”

“Yeah. Why?” She seemed genuinely curious as to why I asked that.

“Well, from a friend to a friend, I could see up your skirt.”

“Oh,” she looked down, then back up with a shrug, “that’s cool, I guess. Hey, Bo, are you gonna drive a little faster? Even if you don’t really care about Tim’s sissy fits we shouldn’t miss the start of the movie, ya know.” She winked and wiggled into her seat, slumping down a bit. I nearly died.

What is happening!? I thought as, without me even knowing, a group of words reappeared, this time by Rachel. I was preoccupied with my thoughts, however. Okay, okay, just calm down, I told myself. In retrospect, I should have suspected there was something up right then, with how calmly I was behaving. But it was just messy all over. Even now I get the details mixed around. First let’s get an overview. Tim’s place at 1:30, that was the plan. We would use two cars. Mine and Ridley’s. I’d be picking up Rachel and Carol, Ridley would be riding with Terrence and Zander. I shook my head, checking the time on the dash. Right now it’s almost 2. Ridley and ’em usually always make it on time... and like Rach said, Tim’s a diligent time-abider. Kinda weird he hasn’t called us by now, but... well...

I sighed in frustration. I didn’t know where I was really going with this, but essentially I was still in a state of disbelief. I was thinking, if this was some kind of dream land, then maybe with enough other discrepancies, a pattern will emerge which would confirm it and I could wake up or something. It was a long shot, but... there was no way this made sense. What he saw in the comic with the words; what happened to Carol. (He shot a glance at her. Still sleeping like a baby.) And now Rachel... the perky, cute one of the bunch. She was one of those quiet ones ’til you got to know ’em types, though she was never really that less quieter. She was snappy and animated and adorable, but almost always seemed to retain a withdrawn, submissive demeanor around people. Not that she never asserted herself—but when she did, it was often about getting milk chocolate instead of dark, or bargaining with the puppy adoption.

Rachel, not you too, I shook my head again, and continued, hopefully this dream is over soon... if I were to wake from this a second too late I won’t be looking at my friends the same way for like a week! It was then that I took an additional look at the rearview mirror and noticed the words had returned. In surprise I nearly hit a passing car, though thankfully Rachel hadn’t noticed. Carol mumbled something unintelligible.

The words! Genre things! Tags, whatever! I thought frantically. Switching from the windshield to the rearview mirror, I tried to read them out again. Cursing, I realized I didn’t take into account that they’d be reversed in the reflection. I don’t have a clue how this works, physically, but if this is how it’s gonna be... whatever. The point is, maybe the key is in those categories... like, maybe I can control them, somehow. Darting back to the rearview mirror, I suddenly saw a different word at the end. There were still four words like last time, but this new one seemed to have replaced ‘PORN’. It shared a couple letters, but spelled out something different. I squinted a tad, trying to think backwards. N... O.... R.... M... Norm...al, normal!

And in a flash, the word glowed just like before, folded in, and vanished.