The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 2:

In the span of one day, I had already bleached my hair, gotten a tattoo, and completely changed my style. I knew it had something to do with the stone that had touched me earlier. I couldn’t think of any other reason I would be acting this way, but to be honest, I didn’t really give a fuck anymore. It wasn’t just changing my mind; it was changing my body. As I walked through the forest of the party, I watched as my nails grew, I felt my hair extend down to the small of my back, and I felt my tits start to expand as my shirt pushed away from my stomach.

I was looking more beautiful (like a whore), and I knew the boys would be happy to see me at the party and I knew exactly where I needed to go first as I headed straight to the drink section. The guy keeping tabs on the bar was one of the guys who had sat at my table in our anatomy class. He was dressed in a wife-beater and a loose pair of jeans that showed off his boxers. I could hear a small voice in my head, echoing what I used to tell my daughter: “That looks ghetto. Be careful when you see guys like that.” I giggled. It was funny how those thoughts would fade away like bubbles popping as soon as the guy was hot enough. Like this guy, who’s big muscles were clear despite the limited light of the firepit.

“Hey! So you’re serving drinks?” I said in my most sultry voice.

“Yeah, who the hell are you? This is a party for students, not trailer trash, so get the hell out of here.” He spoke like he meant it, but as his eyes wandered down to my massive melons, I knew I had him. I stretched my hands up above my head to let the bottom of my big, milky-white tits spill out underneath.

I spoke with a little bit of a pouty voice. “But I am a student,” I said. “I was in your anatomy class, silly.” I let my hands go down and rested them on the table, leaning closer toward him and batting my eyelashes. My husband used to always tell me that I had the most beautiful green eyes. In fact, for our anniversary my husband got me the ring on my left hand with a stone made to match my pretty eyes.

The look of realization dawned on him. “Holy shit, your name is Sarah, right?”

“Katrina,” I said, “but if you give me a couple of drinks, you can call me whatever you want.”

“No fucking way. The MILF from our anatomy class. What the fuck happened to you? You were like a mom and shit. Now you—” He checked me out.

“Maybe I just realized that’s not what I wanted to be anymore. I was kinda boring right. Loose clothes, rules, sober. ”

He poured us drinks and instantly downed his. “Is this like some sort of prank?” Behind us, the booming bass of some rap song was playing. I shook my hips sensually to the music while I waited for my drink. “Like a Tiktok Challenge or whatever?”

“No prank here, sweetie. These—” I grabbed my milkers, “—are all-natural, baby.”

He spit out his drink, and I laughed. I had forgotten how much fun this used to be. Back in the day, my friend and I used to have a competition on who could get the most guys to buy us a drink before they would kick us out of the bar. I one night we had about thirty drinks on the table. It had been a lot easier when I was young and beautiful, but now it was going to take a bit more work.

“So how about a drink?” He pushed out his hand with the drink, but right before I could grab it, he held it tight. I hated how much his dominance turned me on. I’m a grown woman with a retirement , and now I felt under the control of this kid and I loved. The veins in his hand and arm were clearly visible. I had always been a sucker for good hands. “Uh-uh-uh. It’s going to cost you, lady.”

“Oh, come on, can I please get a drink so I can go party?” I let my hand wander up his arm, letting my nails trail along his skin, and letting my eyes drop down to his crotch. That one was just for me though. Nothing wrong with a woman window-shopping.

He held his ground, and brought the cup further away, “Say it like you mean it.”

“Let me get a drink!” I said with a jump that cause my tits to bounce with gravity.

“More.”

“Let me get a fucking drink!” I jumped again, and one of my tits definitely popped out from underneath my shirt.

“What will you do for it?” He held it above my head, a task that wasn’t too difficult for him since he was about a foot taller than me. I was looking up at the drink like a dog begging for food. My mouth felt dry, and I felt small.

“Anything.” He walked around the table, and stood next to me. We stayed in that moment for a moment before he patted my head and dropped the drink down while applying pressure, which caused me to sink to my knees. He went around the table and readjusted me so my face was at the height of his crotch. This kid, who was no older than my daughter, had an intoxicating aura around him.

The rest of the party didn’t seem to give a damn what we were up to as they danced to the rhythmic and hypnotic house music and played a their drinking games.

“What was your name again?” I asked.

“Tyrese,” he said. He brought the drink down to the crotch of his pants. I sat there on my knees and watched as he moved the cup around his dick. “You’re a crazy old bitch, aren’t you?”

“I’m not that old. I’m only thirty-eight.” I made sure to blink a lot so my long eye lashes would entice him.

“Well, we didn’t really plan on having anyone at this party who was over twenty-five, so you’re going to have to prove you belong here.” He unzipped his pants, lowered his underwear, and revealed a beautiful, young cock. It was about seven inches soft as he played with it a little. I was mesmerized by it. My husband was only about five and a half inches on a good day. It had been so many years since I had seen a cock this big, and it was giving me FOMO for all the years gone by. I almost reached out and grabbed it, but I was still trying to control myself. I was here to have fun, but there should still be a line. Regardless of my morality, I was salivating and only realized it when some drool landed on my shirt.

He moved the cup underneath his ball sack and dipped his large testicles into the beer before maneuvering the cock head into the drink as well. He let it rest there for about three seconds, shaking it around before taking it out and handing me the drink. “Here you go, slut, a perfectly prepared cock-tail for you.” The emphasis was obviously on cock. He started laughing again. He had a nice, loud, heavy laugh. The kind of laugh that would annoy me during a movie, even though I’d secretly be jealous of that person’s freedom.

The first thing I felt was curiosity and then doubt. Was it worth it? Was this really the college experience I’d been looking for when I got here? I thought I was just going to dance, maybe make out with a few guys, but this was something else entirely. No one else here was drinking a beer that had been marinating around some guy’s beautiful, young cock. But then again, not all of them were old, crazy bitches like me, right?

“You don’t have to drink it,” he said. “You can just as easily go back to your minivan, go back home, and start getting dinner ready for your husband. No shame in that.”

I wished I could agree with him. But there was shame in that. I didn’t even realize it, but I had been living in shame for the last twenty years. I had been a damn good mother. I had raised my daughter right. I’d been a damn good wife. I’d been loyal, I’ve made meals, and I’d taken care of the home while he was off at work doing God knows what. Now it was time to be a good party animal, a good slut, a good whore. I put the drink up to my lips and took a sip slowly, and then all at once as I felt it go through my entire system, I heard him calling, “Chug, chug, chug!” in the background.

I felt a funny feeling in my backside as I downed the drink, like the weird glow of that stone I had touched was acting again. By the time I was finished drinking it, I was certain that my ass was bigger than when I had started. I looked up at Tyrese, stuck out my tongue, and said, “Ahhh,” to show him that I had been a good girl and I had finished my entire drink. He walked up to me, still with his dick out, and right as he was getting so close and I was getting ready to dive down on it and start giving him the best head of his life, he grabbed me by the hand, zipped up his pants with the other one, and brought me over to the games table where a couple of the guys and girls were playing.

“Yo, this MILF is good. She’s in our class, and I think she’s easy. Have fun.” He gave me a firm slap on the ass as he sent me to the group.

Unlike Tyrese, I instantly recognized Josh. He had that same kind smile from earlier, and his warm and sympathetic vibe was welcome after the more domineering Tyrese. He patted the chair next to him, and I sat down.

The group was a mix between three girls, all beautiful, all wearing heavy makeup, and all of them wearing less clothes than me.

“Glad you could make it,” Josh said. “You know, I had a feeling earlier in class that you were going to be here, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.” He put a strong hand on my thigh, causing me to let out a small moan. “I’m glad to see my intuition was right.”

I tried to change the subject before I got too distracted. “What are you guys playing?”

One of the girls, a tall blonde who looked like she did cross-country, spoke. “It’s called higher or lower. You just pull out a card and guess if it’s going to be higher or lower. If you make it to five, you win.”

“Do you get it?” Another blonde sarcastically added.

“Yeah, I think I understand.” I knew these girls were just jealous that Josh had saved me a seat. It wasn’t my fault. They weren’t as fun as me. “And I’m guessing that if I lose, I drink?”

“Something like that. It’s more of a dare sort of thing.”