Female Victim [Mind Control]

The doorbell rang as I sat on the couch, idly scrolling through Facebook. I wasn't expecting anyone, so I figured Casey had a package for me to sign. I looked through the peephole and there stood a surfer-type guy where I expected a uniform.

"Who is it?" I called to him.

"Let me in." he replied, and incredibly, I did. He must have been a friend of Casey's, I figured. Right.

He closed the door behind him. He had shaggy, unkempt dirty-blonde hair and wore jeans and a generic surfer-boy hoodie. He was thin but not fit, was in his early 30s, and looked like he desperately needed a shower.

"So..." I began.

"Tell me who else is here." he commanded after a quick survey. Guess he wasn't Casey's friend. Did I just let a stranger in?

"Uh, my roommate Casey is sleeping in the other room, I think." I told him. My heart started to race.

"Casey!" he shouted. "Get out here!"

There was a sudden, clumsy stirring from her room. A groggy Casey appeared in her tank top and star-print pajama pants. She was short and chubby, and being that she just got out of bed, she didn't look much better than him.

"Wuh-" she began.

"Too fat." he dismissed. "Piss yourself, piggy." he commanded.

Casey's face twisted into mix of shock, confusion, and horror. Her jaw slacked and her eyebrows furled in intense concentration. Then, as he commanded, a wet spot formed around her crotch and a line of urine streamed down her pajama leg.

"What the fuck?!" I shouted at the events of the past thirty seconds. "Casey, what the fuck?!"

"I... uh," she stammered and started to run to the bathroom. Surfer-guy laughed.

"Stop." he told her, and she did. "Go out for a 30-minute jog and return. We'll be here when you get back."

Shaking, utterly humiliated, and still in a morning fog, Casey simply left and went for a jog around the neighborhood. She shut the door softly. I was relieved she was wearing slippers.

I was aghast. "How? Who are you?" I asked.

"You can call me Jack, and today, I'm all about business." he began removing his shoes. "So quiet down and strip to your underwear."

My heart pounded in my chest as I unbuttoned my blouse. I'd gotten dressed for a shopping trip to the mall with Casey, who was taking a while to get out of bed. Only because it's important to my story, you should know: I'm a 32D with what I consider a 'bubble' butt. And frankly, I like to flaunt my looks. I would later learn that Jack had seen me somewhere in public and learned my address. I try to wear baggy clothes now when I can.

"Help!" I shouted, mid-strip, and Jack shot a furious, "Shut up!" to me.

"You bitch." he whispered. "I told you to be quiet. Already with this bullshit. Just for that, drop your panties too. And don't speak unless I let you." he looked outside the window for anyone who might have heard.

I dropped my blouse to floor. Then my jeans. I purposefully glared daggers at him as I stripped completely down to my padded bra, covering my vagina with one hand. I felt exposed and ; so I started to cry.

"Stop crying and calm down." Jack said, simply and angrily. My head felt a strange, fuzzy and warm sensation. I stopped crying almost immediately and Jack and I both stared at each other as my heart rate decreased. I thought of his ability to make people wet themselves, go for a run, and strip; he could now also control my body's very physiology. Or was I? Either way, there I was, calm as when I write this now.

It didn't last long. He commanded me to stand perfectly still, arms by my side as he came up to me and forcefully slid a finger into my vagina. I squealed, but stayed perfectly still.

"Dry, huh?" No shit, fucktard. Why would I be turned on right now?

"Doesn't this turn you on?" he asked. I could say nothing. I could move only my eyes. He laughed.

"Yes it does. Little girl, this turns you on very much."

And that was it. That familiar stirring down there, that warmth, and soon: that desire for something to go in. I started to breathe heavily and felt myself becoming anxious again. He slid in deeper. I stayed still and tried my best not to moan.

"I made a quick example of your friend." Jack declared. "If she was hot she could have stayed, but I just wanted you today." he repeatedly jerked his fingers inside me and my body betrayed my mind as I felt pleasure from his ministrations. "By now you clearly see the power I have over you. And you know that by doing anything to stop me, it will only get worse." he punctuated that with a slap and grab of my butt. I tried to hate it as much as I could.

Once he was done playing with me, he brought his fingering-hand to my mouth and lathered my lips with my own juices, being sure to push in to catch my tongue. I gagged and was about to throw up, which he quickly observed and fixed it all with, "Hey, your juices are the best thing you've ever tasted."

With one sentence, this living piece of filth turned a vomit-worthy sensation into the greatest craving I've ever had. I wanted more. What the fuck. I still do. It tastes so fucking good...

He laughed. "More?" he taunted. Silence. "Ah, yes. You can tell me if you want more."

Every fiber of my being wanted to say no; but then, every fiber of my being wanted to say yes. I squeaked out a meek, "Mm-hmm." as he plunged back in with his fingering-hand.

"Now, onto the fun part!" he declared with a hard clap on my butt.