The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Erica said, as she lit the incense burner in front of her.

She had gathered everything that the book had said for this so-called “magic ritual.” It wasn’t her first time dipping her toes in the mystical and the occult. She had tried tarot reading as a journaling technique, and she had been invited to some of her witchy friends’ celebrations like Beltane and Imbolc, but she had never really believed in any of it.

She shifted her weight, and double-checked to make sure everything was in order. Technically, this was her triple checking it, as she had already checked and double-checked things before.

The chalk circle on the ground definitely matched what was in the book, down to every subtle curve of the strange symbols. The five herbs, freshly picked, were arranged around the circle.

She frowned at the one element that hadn’t really come together in time.

In the center of the circle, was the puppet that the supposed spell called for. Well, sort of.

She had tried to order a hand-made, artisanal puppet from Europe, made in San Lutero, the small city-state where the book had originated. But that had fallen through at the last minute, and since the spell had to be done on the day of the full moon following the vernal equinox, she had been left scrambling to come up with a replacement. The only thing from San Lutero she had been able to find in the city was a pair of socks, and so she had improvised.

Erica frowned down at it. Magic wasn’t real, so this wasn’t going to work in the first place, but if there was a second reason this spell wasn’t going to work, it would be because of this stupid “puppet.”

There was no sugarcoating it. It was a sock puppet.

A pathetic little thing she had spent far too much time putting together last night, hand-sewing button eyes onto, and carefully cutting cardboard for a mouth and hot gluing felt for hair.

A part of Erica was defensively proud of what she had been able to make. Maybe that was inevitable when you spent so much time making something, but another part of her knew this was not at all up to her high standards.

Erica was a perfectionist in most areas of her life. She had never accepted second best. She had been her high school’s class president and valedictorian. She had gone to MIT to study engineering. And now she was leading a research team at PlasmaTech, the biggest engineering firm in the world by market cap.

“I mean, it looks enough like a little fey trickster, doesn’t it?” she said, half to herself and half to the camera she had set up.

She was going to win this bet, and put an end to the endless discussions of the occult and mysticism!

Erica sighed.

A bet.

This had started with a bet. Her work colleague and underling, Marcus, would just not shut up about chaos magic this, and divination that. Erica just did not understand it. He was a brilliant engineer, who in all other respects seemed like a rational and accomplished man. And yet. And yet, whenever they ate lunch together, or there was a company party, Marcus just would not shut up about the occult. He could weave elaborate stories about figures from Pythagoras to Paracelsus, and from Iamblichus to Simon Magus. Tying them all into an elaborate story of a hidden magical tradition stretching from antiquity, to the medieval alchemists and ending in figures like Carl Jung and Aleister Crowley.

Erica wouldn’t have minded if it had just been a special interest of Marcus. She knew enough engineers to know how many of them got obsessed with a single topic, like the Byzantine Empire or HEMA or a thousand other nerdy topics. But Marcus seemed to be a true believer. On a few occasions, he had disclosed to Erica that he had performed actual, honest-to-god magical spells. But Erica had mostly been unimpressed. Marcus had always been tall, so when he disclosed to her that he had used a height-increasing spell, she had only been able to laugh. And when he had told her his magic was the reason his girlfriend, Heather, looked like a knock-out, how could Erica hide her doubt?

She knew enough about “magic” from her witch friends. If the rituals they had conducted to welcome guests to Beltane or Samhain were anything to go by, it just seemed like a geeky bit of larping to Erica. Harmless enough sure, but nothing that could actually bring about great change in the world. Making yourself taller, turning your girlfriend hotter? Ridiculous. That was utterly ridiculous.

And so when Erica’s unhip skepticism had led her to calling Marcus out at the office Christmas party a few months ago, she had agreed to his little bet then. Erica would try to cast a spell of his choice from any spellbook of his choosing. If he won, then she would never question his magical abilities ever again. If she won, he’d never bring up magic around her ever again.

Oh, it was going to be so worth it when she won this bet.

She was going to enjoy silencing him forever!

Erica looked out the window, and knew the time was almost right. In spite of herself, she felt her heart beginning to beat faster in her chest. This was it.

She looked at the spell Marcus had asked her to cast. The spell to summon Robin Goodfellow.

Erica lit the candles around the circle, and began to read the nonsense magic words of the page. She had had Marcus annotate how they should be pronounced.

“MI ALVOKAS LA PLEJ PETOLAN DE LA FEOJ! MI ALVOKAS RUBENON BONULON. VENU, VENU, SHERCISTO. VENU, VENU, SORCHISTO! MI PETAS VIN.”

As she read the words, a strange chill ran through her, and she could have sworn that a wind somehow gusted through her house. But after the moment ed, she convinced herself that the candles’ extreme shaking had just been from her own breath as she had read the spell aloud.

She looked around. Nothing seemed to have changed.

Hah.

She looked at the camera.

“Well, I guess it didn’t work after all,” she smiled at the camera. “I guess you’re going to be shutting up about all this stuff now, Marcus.”

Erica let out a breath she hadn’t felt herself holding in. The anticipation was over. She was done.

Now she could clean all of this stuff up, and be done with it.

She touched the sock, and felt a strange sensation almost like a static shock when she made .

Oh, that was strange. It felt kind of nice.

She didn’t really notice that she was only cleaning with her left hand now, her right hand was touching the sock.

She blew out the candles, and started throwing them out.

But she was briefly distracted. What was that pleasant sensation at the edge of her consciousness. She looked down, and was surprised to see her right hand seemed to be stroking the strange puppet up and down.

Wha?

It was oddly... soft.

Erica had been unimpressed with the socks when she had first bought them. They had been a bit coarse as fabric went, and while they would probably keep you warm in a pinch, she would never have voluntarily bought them if she hadn’t been looking for the little ‘Made in San Lutero’ sticker to fulfill the requirements of the spell.

But now, somehow it seemed like the sock she had spent the previous night decorating, whose texture she knew well by now felt completely different.

It was soft and smooth like silk. And Erica couldn’t stop running her right hand up and down the length of the sock.

God, it was the most pleasant texture her fingers had ever encountered.

Sensual.

That was the only word for it. As her hand continued to stroke the little sock puppet, her mind was grasping for what this was like.

It reminded her a bit of a trip her and her sister had taken to Target, when her sister had held up a cute plush dog and told her to touch it and see how soft it was! And it had been soft.

But this. This was so. much. softer.

Erica tried to stop stroking the tantalizingly soft sock. Her right hand stopped moving.

She was cleaning up the failed ritual. That was all!

She began using an eraser to rub away the chalk circle, and taking the glass bowls with herbs in them and tossing them into her garden to let nature reclaim them. Walking back inside she noticed-

When had she actually put the sock puppet on?

She looked down at the slightly ridiculous-looking puppet. Its slightly off center button eyes, its yarn hair, its big, gaping mouth that always looked like it was in a goofy smile.

Erica shook her head.

She had let the pleasant sensation of the puppet get the better of her.

She sat down in front of the camera, imagining what Marcus might think when he saw it.

“Look, this sock just turned out to be surprisingly soft. That’s all. The magic spell failed, okay!” she said to the camera, desperate to explain why she had put on the ridiculous sock puppet.

She was about to finish up cleaning, when a voice spoke out.

“Hey, who are you calling a sock?”

Erica’s eyes went wide. The voice had been hers. She had said it, albeit in a kind of goofy voice that an elementary school teacher might use when trying to represent a hobgoblin or a fairy trickster in a story.

She looked down at the sock puppet. It was staring at her.

No.

No, that was ridiculous. Erica had just been wanting to have a little fun, and had gotten a bit carried away. That was all.

She could be whimsical sometimes, right?

She turned her right hand so that the sock puppet faced the camera, and tried to do her best to replicate the voice out of the corner of her mouth.

“Ha, ha! Just kidding. It’s just a sock. I’m going to take the sock off now!” she said.

It was remarkable how little Erica’s voice had sounded like the voice that had just come out of her mouth. She had never been the best at impressions, preferring to focus instead on serious things like speech and debate. Put her in front of a crowd, and she could present like the best of them. But ask her to do a Kermit or an Elle Woods, or any other voice, and she didn’t have the knack.

“Why are you impersonating me! You’re not even doing a good job of it.”

The sock turned back around, its eyes again giving the strange impression they were looking right at her.

And there was no mistake. The voice it had spoken with, the sounds had come straight from Erica’s own lips. A voice she’d never be able to replicate if she tried. A voice that seemed to say, “once upon a time”, and remind her of a childhood when stories of knights and princesses could still inspire her. A voice that was somehow older and more masculine than her own, despite it vibrating with sounds from her own vocal cords.

Erica’s left hand began to attack the sock puppet. She tried to pull it off her hand, but it was stuck as if it had been glued to her skin. Or.

The thought came unbidden to her mind. Or like it had been merged with her skin, every atom of her hand from the elbow on becoming one with this stupid sock puppet.

“What’s happening?” she said. “Am I going crazy?”

She started pacing back and forth, thinking about how she could get this strange thing off her hand.

She had completely forgotten about the bet at this point. All that mattered was getting this strange THING off of her hand.

She ran to the kitchen looking for scissors.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” her voice said.

“You are me!” Erica said, as she rummaged through the junk drawer. They had to be here somewhere. “Magic isn’t real. I’m clearly just having a nervous breakdown. I’ve been working too hard, and I’ve just cracked. That’s the only explanation.”

Aha! She pulled the scissors out triumphantly.

“That’s not going to work!” her own taunting voice, in that strange storytelling timbre said.

Erica shook her head, she didn’t care what it was saying at this point. She tried to get the scissors under the sock, but when that proved impossible she tried to cut it from the outside.

“Ouch, fuck!” she said, as she successfully cut a bit of the sock away.

The pain and complaint had come from her, not... whatever it was that was speaking through her. She looked in horror, as blue blood seemed to seep out of the wound she had just inflicted on herself.

What the fuck was happening?

“Would you please stop freaking out and just listen to me!” her vocal cords shouted at her, as the sock’s mouth seemed to move of its own accord, the muscles of her hand flexing without any will on her part.

Erica looked down at her hand, and tried to ignore the trickle of blue blood and the pain that still emanated from that point.

“You’re not crazy. This is happening. You’ve summoned me, Robin Goodfellow, into your puppet, and now I’m inhabiting it.”

Erica shook her head, looking hopelessly at the camera in the living room, that was still recording. That was probably seeing her far away now, talking to her own hand.

This had to be a prank or something, right?

Maybe Marcus had put some sort of mechanical or electrical thing into the sock. He had to be nearby, controlling its every motion.

How else could her hand move on its own accord?

“Okay, let’s say that’s true,” Erica said. “What do you want from me? How can I, um, make everything go back to normal?”

The sock puppet shook its head. “Didn’t you read the fine print of the spell?”

Erica frowned. “Um... well, I guess not. What did it say?”

“You mortals are always so very lazy. Won’t even do the reading yourselves.”

Erica didn’t know how a sock with button eyes somehow managed to look disappointed, but the slight creases in it really sold the emotion. Erica ran over to the book, and flipped through the surrounding pages. It was only now that she realized there was a page missing.

“There is no fine print!” she complained. “There’s a page missing.”

The sock puppet laughed with her own voice, looking up at her from her right hand. “Well, then. I guess you’re stuck with me until you can figure it out.”

Erica didn’t know what to do. She decided she would try to sleep on it.

Ignoring the fact that her dominant hand was now a puppet possessed by Robin Goodfellow, the fairy trickster, she went up to bed, and fell asleep. She really had been exhausted.

In the morning, she knew she had to make a plan. When she went into PlasmaTech, she couldn’t let Marcus know he had seemingly won their bet.

It was difficult using her left hand only, but Erica took the camera and started editing the footage. She just cut the footage off at the point where she had clearly won.

She ignored the delighted mocking of Robin Goodfellow as she put her plan together.

“I’ve had about enough of you!” she said, after she had finished the video and ed it to YouTube.

“Ha ha! I like a good trick, just like the next person,” Robin Goodfellow said with her voice, his hand-powered mouth opening and closing with the sounds. “I commend you for still trying to win in spite of everything.”

Erica shook her head. She had just wanted Marcus to shut up, and now her hand was going all Doctor Strangelove on her!

“I can still figure this out on my own,” Erica said. “I’ve just got to...”

She rummaged around in the hall closet and found her first aid kit. Inside was some skin-colored gauze.

“God, I hope this shuts you up!” she said, as she began wrapping her right hand.

“Hey, no!” her hand said to her. “No, you can’t do—”

But soon her right hand was bound too tightly to move, and Erica soon had a sling on.

There. Perfect. Now she could win her little bet, make up a lie about hurting her arm that morning, and figure out how to exorcise Robin Goodfellow, all with Marcus being none the wiser.

She went up to her room, and was getting ready, and was pleased to see that binding the puppet so it couldn’t talk seemed to have really shut it up.

But then, a thought entered her mind. «You should put on something a little sluttier today.»

It should have sounded foreign to Erica. She usually never thought things like that.

But... well she had set things up so that Marcus had thought she had won the bet... so maybe it would be nice to dress a little sexier than usual today?

She went to the back of her closet, where she usually kept outfits that she wore for dates and special occasions.

Yeah, this one would be perfect!

It was a little harder getting the dress on with just her left hand, but soon Erica was in a skimpy party dress that was low cut enough that it gave ample view of her cleavage, and which stopped low enough that it showed off her amazing legs. Erica smiled. She was going to turn some heads at work today.

During the morning stand-up, Erica, enjoyed the gazes from her team . They were astounded that their no-nonsense boss had decided to wear something more appropriate for a nightclub than one of the largest corporations in the world.

“Well, we all know from the PIP last week what our targets are for Q3. So why don’t we—”

«Start acting like a ditzy cheerleader.»

That voice again in her head. So oddly familiar.

So... compelling.

“Why don’t we, like, do our best out there team. Yay!” she jumped up and down, her breasts bouncing despite the sling that was holding her right arm just below them. “Give me a P! Give me a L! An A, an S, M, A! What’s that spell? Plasma Tech. Hooray! Get out there guys.”

And at that, her confused underlings filtered slowly out of the meeting room. It seemed clear they were eager to talk about something just as soon as they were out of earshot of her.

Erica was soon left alone in the room with Marcus.

Erica was still beaming over at Marcus.

“Have you, like, got a problem, Marcus?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “No, I just gotta say, I watched the video you sent. Seems I lost fair and square.”

Erica nodded. “Yeppers. You’re officially a sillyhead, and I’m the winner. Yay!” she jumped up and down again, clapping her left arm against her right shoulder since she couldn’t actually applaud with her sling on.

“Yeah, it’s actually a bit of a relief that you didn’t summon Robin Goodfellow. He’s supposed to love turning people into parodies of themselves, making them do silly things. But he can only do that if the puppet vessel he’s summoned into is silenced somehow.”

“Well, luckily I didn’t summon no fairies, and everything is perfectly normal!” Erica said, trying to look serious, but somehow failing with her looser more playful posture.

“So it would seem,” Marcus said. “I guess I’ll have to avoid talking about my favorite topic. Which is a shame. Because if I could talk about it, I would happily tell you how to be rid of any... side effects.”

Erica stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, I don’t need you to, because there totally aren’t any dumb side effects. Duh! Like, I’m totally fine.”

Marcus nodded. “Yeah, you seem to be acting like your usual self, of course. How silly of me. Well, I’ll just get back to work.”

Erica found it so hard to be taken seriously over the rest of the day. Her meeting with the higher-ups had been a total disaster.

She had had one of those stray thoughts she had been having lately, «Be flirty and seductive towards the CEO», and the CEO, who was happily married had yelled at her! It was totally unfair. She hadn’t even done anything.

Well, maybe she had sat in his lap, and started saying some things in his ear. But it had been a joke! Couldn’t he take a joke?

And then there was her work day. A part of her had remarked, «It’s awfully hard to focus on things today», and she had been totally right!

Things that used to have come so easy had been such a struggle. She kept losing her train of thought.

It was a mess.

When she finally got off work, Erica wasted no time trying to pull what connections she could to deal with the puppet possessing her right hand. She reached out to her witchy friends, but they had no idea what she was talking about. (Though they had asked her if she was alright for some reason... Something about her talking weird?)

Erica tried Googling around, and came up empty.

She decided to go to the mall, where she knew there was an occult bookstore.

However, when she got to the mall...

«Get your hair dyed blonde at the salon there.»

The thought had come unbidden into her head, and Erica couldn’t resist. It was going to add to her time in the mall, a place she usually avoided unless she couldn’t help it, but... well, it couldn’t hurt could it.

“Oh, no! How’d you hurt your hand?” the nice blonde lady at the salon said as Erica walked in.

Erica looked down, having almost forgotten about it. “Oh, this? I, like, slipped and fell this morning or something.” She almost couldn’t the lie she had decided to tell.

“Well, no worry. We’ll make sure you get a nice new hairdo to make up for all of it.”

Erica explained what she wanted, and the bubbly salon lady seemed thrilled. “Oh, you’re going to love going blonde. It’s true you know, blondes really do have more fun!”

Erica hoped so!

An hour later, Erica walked out of the salon with platinum blonde hair. But she hadn’t forgotten why she was here!

She needed to go to the occult book store, and get this puppet off of her hand. But then-

«Buy more sexy outfits at the Forever 21.»

A great idea popped into her head, and she couldn’t resist. In fact, several ideas popped into her head, one by one.

«Get the nails on your left hand and toes done.»

«Buy some sexy lingerie.»

«Buy a vibrator at the adult store.»

By the time she was done with all of her impulse purchases, the mall was closing. And she hadn’t even gotten to the occult bookstore.

Drat!

The next day at work, Erica was called into HR a little after lunch.

There were apparently concerns about her behavior over the last day and a half. Erica was sure they were going to fire her, but at the last minute Marcus had come in.

He had been her knight in shining armor, defending her, and by the end of the meeting, the HR lady had let her off with a warning.

“Wow!” Erica said, looking wide-eyed at Marcus. “I don’t know how you did it, but you rescued my job.”

Marcus smiled at Erica. “Well, I had to keep my favorite boss around, didn’t I? But you really should try not to tell the CEO you’ll suck his cock in the future.”

Erica blinked at him. “But it was a funny joke, didn’t he get the joke?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not everyone appreciates your sense of humor. I’m not sure they get what you’re doing.”

Erica shook her head. “But how could they not get it. I mean, obviously I dyed my hair blonde ironically. And I mean, I would never seriously wear a skimpy outfit like this. I mean, I look like a hooker right? But it’s, like, funny when I do it, because nobody would see it coming right?”

Marcus smiled. “I mean, I do find all of this extremely funny, but I don’t think it’s for the reason you think. Is your right arm still hurting?”

Erica looked down at it. She had kept it under wraps this whole time.

She pulled back. “It’ll heal in time. I’m pur—, uh, I’m looking into ways to fix it.”

“Have you been to the doctor’s?” Marcus said.

“Duh!” Erica said. “That was like, the first thing I did. I’ll get a special doctor to look at it and get it fixed right up!”

“Oh, okay,” Marcus said, a strange expression on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher. “Because if it was causing you any trouble at all, I would be happy to offer some special help...”

Erica knew what kind of help he meant, and she turned her nose up at him. “Nuh-uh! I don’t want any of your special help. I can fix it all by myself.“

“Alright,” Marcus said. “I’m just worried. Because if you had summoned Robin Goodfellow two nights ago, I would be worried about long term side effects the longer he stayed in our world. I might even do a kindness, and give you something like this to help you see what was happening.“

Marcus pressed an old coin into her left hand.

“Hey, I told you I don’t need your help. And I definitely didn’t summon nothing because magic isn’t real. And since I won my bet, I don’t want you ever talking about such junk while I’m around. Okay, meanie!”

And with that, she huffed off to her office. Marcus was such a jerk face!

She looked at the coin he had given her. It looked quite old, and seemed to have Latin on it.

What was something like this supposed to do?

She turned it over a few times in her hands and started to feel strange.

Her head. It felt like a fog cloud was being lifted, and she could finally think straight for the first time in nearly two days.

She looked down at her outfit in shock.

What was she wearing?

And what had she been doing the past few days?

Talking like a ditz!

Flirting inappropriately with her very happily married CEO?

Almost getting fired.

She looked down at the sling on her right hand.

No, that thing she had summoned. Somehow it was responsible for all of this.

She had to get out of here. She had to go to the occult bookstore, and find out how to stop all of this!

She practically ran out of the office, almost knocking down Marcus near the front entrance.

“Going somewhere?” he said, an amused expression on his face.

“I’m, uh, really sick,” she said. “Tell everyone I had to go home because I’m, like, so sick.”

Her voice. It sounded so breathy, so ditzy! Why was she talking like this?

“Do you need any help,” Marcus said. “Like I said, if you need help with anything. Absolutely anything, I’m happy to help.”

Erica refused to stoop to that level. She would never it to Marcus that she had lied to him.

That he had won their little bet.

No, she would solve all of this 100% by herself.

“I don’t need your help,” she said, strutting away in her little high heels.

Soon she was in her car, driving to the mall. It was the middle of the day, even if she got distracted a bit, she’d definitely have plenty of time to get to the occult bookstore.

That definitely hadn’t gone quite as planned, Erica thought as she walked out of the mall.

It was closing time, and she had just spent several hours shopping for new clothes and mentally yelling at herself to get to the occult bookstore soon.

But she hadn’t done that. Instead, she had putzed about, and even made a few new friends. Some bubbly college girls had thought she was a riot and invited her to their house party that Friday.

At some point, she had had the thought, «You’re getting hornier and hornier. The longer you go without looking at a dick, the more horny and desperate you’re going to get.»

She had felt the coin in her pocket pulse, and it had occurred to Erica how out of character that thought had seemed to her. And how much it had sounded like that stupid puppet voice Robin Goodfellow had used before she shut him up.

She had to figure all of this out.

Things were spiraling out of control.

And Marcus’ words from earlier today were starting to scare her.

He had said there could be long term consequences?

She had already spent two days with the puppet on her right hand. Would she go back to being her usual self at this rate?

Should she just swallow her pride and tell Marcus that he had won. That magic was real, and it had been making her act like a total fool over the past two days?

«Go to Marcus’ house.»

The thought still seemed strangely foreign. But it made sense to Erica.

She really did need help, especially since she had struck out twice at the mall now.

Erica drove to Marcus’ address. She tried to ignore the growing craving inside of her.

Horny.

Erica was starting to get horny, and she couldn’t help but shift uneasily as she drove, as a heat started between her legs.

Daydreams started curling around her mind as she drove, and before she knew it-

“Hiya!” said a bright voice, opening the door. “Ooh, you’re that nice lady Marcus works with. I love your blonde hair! It really suits you.”

Erica vaguely ed this woman from the Christmas party. But Erica was having more and more trouble focusing on that right now. She was feeling so incredibly horny right now.

Erica needed cock.

No!

She had to think straight. She needed to ask Marcus... something. God it was so hard to think straight like this.

“Uh, th-thanks!” Erica said, a little more bubbly than she felt. “Is Marcus in, I need to talk to him.” Had that sounded desperate?

“Yeah, he’s reading something. Marcus! Your manager is here,” the woman shouted back.

There was stirring, and soon Marcus was standing beside her.

Erica looked up at Marcus, and melted a bit. God, he was so hot.

How had she never noticed that before?

“M-Marcus,” she said, ignoring the funny somersault her stomach was doing. “I n-need to tell you something.”

“Oh,” Marcus said, smiling. “What is that?”

“Well, I, uh, that is...” Erica blushed. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t it that she had lied to him. That she had stupidly tried to cover everything up, and it was the reason for her strange behavior. How it had been all her fault.

«Ask him for a threesome.»

The coin throbbed in Erica’s pocket. A part of her could understand she was being manipulated. She never would have thought of something like that before.

But between her inability to it that she had lied, and her growing horniness, giving in to the order she knew was from Robin Goodfellow felt too irresistible.

“Would you, like, I mean, could you possibly ever say ‘yes’ if I ask you for a threesome with you and your girlfriend?”

Marcus seemed pleased, but his girlfriend seemed a bit shocked at Erica’s words.

“Can you excuse us for a moment?” Marcus said. “We’ve got to discuss this.”

They closed the door, and Erica stood there, feeling how utterly horny she was at this point. Had she really just done that?

God, her panties were probably soaked through with arousal now.

It was so hard to think straight. She needed to-

Had to-

But her arousal was making it impossible to form a long term plan. Somehow, it felt more urgent than even the magical curse that was clearly upon her.

After what felt like an eternity waiting, the door opened, and Marcus smiled at Erica.

Marcus’ girlfriend behind him had a strangely faraway look in her eyes, like she wasn’t quite there, but she smiled and nodded. “I would love to have a threesome with you and my wonderful master, Marcus,” the girlfriend said.

Erica’s heart fluttered. This was it!

What followed was like nothing Erica had ever experienced before. Marcus started by commanding his girlfriend to make out with Erica, and she had stared blankly and said, “Yes, master Marcus,” before beginning to kiss Erica on the neck. Erica had lost herself in the other woman, kissing her soft white skin up and down. Tweaking her nipples, luxuriating in every sensual touch.

It was all a new experience for Erica. She had never been with a woman before.

At some point, Erica noticed that her sling and gauze were no longer on her hand. She was breathing hard now, slick with arousal and looking down at the perfect body of Marcus’ girlfriend.

She had been denying her right arm a part in the proceedings, but somehow that didn’t seem fair.

“This is going to be a foursome,” her hand said, with its ridiculous voice.

Marcus and his girlfriend both laughed. “Good show, Erica!”

Erica smiled over at them. Her right arm started snaking down the girlfriend’s body, and between her legs right to her sex.

“Oh, god, it’s like silk,” the girlfriend moaned out.

Erica’s arm felt oddly sensitive as it began to work the woman’s clit like a pro. Erica might have never been with a woman, but Robin Goodfellow apparently knew how to give a woman a good time, even with a sock puppet body.

“Come here,” Erica told Marcus.

Marcus obliged, kissing Erica roughly on the mouth.

“Everything that my puppet is doing to your girlfriend, I want you to do it to me,” Erica begged.

Marcus’ hands roamed, and one of them found their way between her legs.

Erica gasped.

Marcus was mimicking her right arm far too well.

The four (!) of them were soon a writhing mass of lust and ecstasy. Everywhere and every way that Erica’s right hand touched the woman across from her, Marcus did the same, building their arousal more and more until they were nothing but pleasure.

The puppet seemed to plan the timing perfectly, teasing the girl’s clit and occasionally moving up to her breasts to give her a break, tease her, keep her circling the pure bliss that threatened the edge of their consciousness. It was only when Robin Goodfellow willed it, that they all let out simultaneous moans as their bodies were wracked by ecstasy and they all collapsed in a sweaty heap tangled in each other’s arms.

They rested there for a moment, enjoying the afterglow.

Enjoying the way skin felt against skin as they looked at one another with looks filled with bliss.

Erica was the first to break the silence.

“My, like, right hand,” she said. “It’s free!”

She looked down, and knew it was her moving it. She pulled the sock off, and sure enough it slipped off her hand.

Marcus smiled over at her. Half mocking, he panted out, “What do you mean it’s free? You never actually summoned Robin Goodfellow, .”

Erica blushed. “Right, uh, I, um... totally never summoned him.”

“Which is a good thing,” Marcus said. “Because if you had summoned him, everything he made you do would have just become permanent with your first orgasm since the summoning.”

Erica’s eyes went wide. She looked at herself in the mirror on the vanity. She had blonde hair, and was carrying herself like a ditzy cheerleader instead of a business woman.

Would she be stuck like this forever?

“Please no!” she said, shaking her head. “There has to be a way to fix this. I can’t act like this forever. I’m a, like, important person.”

Marcus smiled, and reached over his girlfriend. “It’s okay. I’ll make everything better.”

And he got up out of the bed, and started rummaging through the skimpy clothes Erica had worn to this tryst. He pulled out a coin, and took it out of her pocket.

And just like that, Erica’s mind fogged over, and she couldn’t what she had been so worried about.

Marcus reed the two women curled in each other’s arms on the bed.

“I think everything will be just fine for the three of us going forward,” he said.

And in her foggy, fuck-drunk state, Erica knew he was right. Marcus was always right, about everything.