Sex Potion: My Crazy Mind Control Summer
© Copyright 2017,
Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved
NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other
people. If you would like to share this book with another person,
please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re
reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased
for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer
and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic
descriptions of sexual intercourse. It is intended for adults only.
All characters depicted are 18-years-old and older. This is a work of
fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual
events, is purely coincidental.
Author's Note: This is a work of erotic fantasy. The sexual
situations depicted in this book are performed under the influence of
mind control. In real life, consent is never an option. That's why
I've written this story down, so we can enjoy being naughty together
in the privacy and comfort of our minds. Thank you for partaking in
my smut, and remember to bump uglies responsibly!
Cover created by Veronica Sloan. Cover Photo ©
Can Stock Photo Inc. / konradbak / bds.
* * *
Chapter 1: Forgive Me, Ms. Phillips!
As I raised my fist to knock on the quaint cherry wood door, I lost
my nerve. Frozen on the cottage stoop, my knuckles poised to strike,
I was suddenly dizzy. "What the hell am I doing?" I
murmured aloud. I should turn around, I thought. This would just make
things worse. "No," I told myself firmly. "No, it's
the right thing to do."
I heard her inside the house. She was talking to someone, laughing,
carrying on like mature, adult women do. She had a life, I thought,
and a thousand other things to deal with. She didn't need my bullshit
on top of it. "Okay," I sighed. "Then that's that."
I swiveled on my heel to leave, but it was too late. She'd seen me
through the front window.
The door opened gently, and when she poked her head out, it was with
the warm, casual welcome of an old friend. That was her default
expression. Then she recognized my face. I opened my mouth to explain
why I was standing on her Welcome mat, but her frantic yelp of
surprise drowned me out.
Behind her square-framed glasses, Ms. Phillips' violet eyes went
cartoonishly wide. "Kevin!" she hissed. Compared to a
typical school day, she was dressed down, but Cassandra Phillips
exuded class no matter what she was wearing. On this Sunday
afternoon, her brown hair was swept back in a ponytail, her slender
shoulders loosely covered by an airy cotton blouse. A gold locket
wrapped around her neck, and matched the anklet that glinted beneath
her calf. She was barefoot, casual, her beige skirt slightly askew.
My former English teacher stared at me in wordless confusion, until a
deep voice called from the kitchen.
"Who is it, honey?" the unknown man demanded.
Ms. Phillips squeaked over her shoulder in incomprehensible
"Huh?" he called back.
My heart thumped like a tom-tom. I'd spent the last hour convincing
myself this wasn't a horrendously stupid idea, only to chicken out at
the last second. What little confidence I had left was melting down
my back in a river of sweat. "Ms. Phillips, I-I didn't mean to
interrupt but, I, uh--"
Her evil glare robbed me of my tongue. It flopped around my mouth
like a dead fish. "You know what?" I finally stammered.
"This was a bad idea. I'll go. Sorry. I'm really sorry--" I
was halfway off the stoop when she grabbed my arm.
I made a pathetic "meep!" of surprise as she yanked me
inside the house. Slim girl that she was, her grip was tenacious. She
dragged me through the hall and shoved me into the nearest room.
"Babe?" the deep voice called from the other side of the
house. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, honey!" she sang back to him. "Just
remembered some notes I need to add to my lesson plan." She
slammed the door behind her, and quickly spun around. There was hot
fury in her beautiful eyes. She raised a finger in stern reproval,
lips quivering--and winced when the deep voice floated back down the
"Should I keep stirring, or what?"
Ms. Phillips slapped her forehead. "For God's sake! It's soup,
Richard! Just keep it on the stove until it tastes good!" She
grabbed the front of my shirt. "What the hell are you doing
"I'm sorry!" I blurted. "I didn't know you had
"Richard is my fiancé! What the
hell did you expect?"
"I didn't kn-- Look, I'm not trying to--I mean, I'm--I--
She ignored my idiotic sputtering. My shirt bunched in her tight
little fingers, she pushed me across the little room in three short
strides. I bumped up against a squeaky mattress.
I glanced behind me and realized for the first time we were in a
guest room. The duvet on the little bed was a shade of green I'd
never seen before, and boasted a floral design that had gone out of
style when my grandparents were still young. Everything in the room,
from the bed to the pillows to the sun-faded chair in the corner and
the chintzy chest of drawers, was practically a museum piece. It
smelled like a mothballed attic. The only sign of life in the little
room was a roll top desk at the far wall, upon which were piled
stacks of old notebooks, a glowing laptop, and another stack of
My frantic brain searched for something neutral to say, just to stave
off the wild look in her eye. "I-it smells musty in here?"
I blurted. I was doomed.
Ms. Phillips yanked me by the shirt. "I rent the cottage, Kevin.
You know that. Just like you know I have a fiancé.
Didn't you listen to anything I told you, during our after school
"O-of course I did," I said. "It's just that, right
now, my brain's a little--I'm sorry."
"For what?" she growled.
"For what happened. At the school. Us. Together. I just wanted
you so much and--"
"I almost lost my job, Kevin!" Her voice rose in a hoarse
whisper. "There were rumors for weeks! Some of the students
already thought I was sleeping with you."
"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I'm so sorry. But, you
didn't lose your job, right? You'll be back next year?"
"Yes, but that's not the point! You could have told me how you
felt, like an adult!" Her face was so close to mine that I felt
the cool flecks of spit that fired off her tongue.
"Yes!" I agreed. "But I was greedy! I...oh, you'll
never believe this, but, it was a magic potion. A sex potion."
"Ha!" she laughed in my face. "Is that what you tell
yourself? That that's the only way you could get what you wanted?"
I choked when she reached down and squeezed my crotch.
"You could have been a good little boy and asked nicely,"
she growled. I was terrified, but my penis couldn't refuse the warm
clutch of her fingers. I grunted as she coaxed a stiff erection from
my terror. "You know I want to fuck your brains out," she
whispered against my lips. "Why did you have to be so risky? You
could have had me anywhere..." Her mouth was hot, and tinged
with the spice of whatever she'd been cooking with her fiancé.
She moaned as my penis filled her hand.
"M-ms. Phillips!" I gasped between her ardent kisses.
"And now Richard's home," she groaned. Her nails slid down
my chest. "Why do you always do this to me, Kevin? Why do you
force me to be so bad?" Her fingers quickly undid the button,
the belt, and the zipper on my pants.
"Whoa!" I shouted. "Cassandra! Stop! This is not what
I came here to d--" I shivered when her fingertips brushed my
"Mmm," she purred. "Still so big, and ready for me..."
Ms. Phillips pulled the glasses off her nose and flung them to her
desk. "This is the last time we can do this, do you understand?"
She tugged on her beige skirt until it bunched above her hips. I
groaned again when I saw the cute pink and white striped panties
underneath. They were simple cotton--neither sexy nor scandalous--but
it was their simplicity that undid me.
For a year this woman was my ultimate erotic fantasy, and every sway
of her slender hips, every arch of her eyebrows, every glimpse of her
small, unfettered breasts, aroused my teenage lust. Her enchanting
eyes, her pert lips, the fact that she was an older woman--if only by
a handful of years--transformed her every action into a forbidden
invitation. She was far beyond my league. I was her student, which
made me so much less than a man in her eyes. Fucking her on her desk
did not diminish that insecurity. She was still the unattainable
But those panties. Those pink and white panties that hugged her
delicate mound, were proof that she was a real woman. It was a Sunday
afternoon; she was barefoot and casual in her own home, wearing the
kind of casual, girly panties that any young woman wore. Behind that
thin cotton was her sex, its smooth and delicious lips, her soft and
Instinctually, I reached for her mound, and pressed my palm against
her warm labia. She purred like a tigress. "God," I
murmured. "I can't stop wanting you."
Ms. Phillips rolled her vulva into my hand. "You like groping
your teacher, you dirty boy?"
"Yes," I gasped.
My skin moistened as she ground herself harder into my palm. My
sweat, her arousal. She looked ridiculous, skirt over her hips, toes
dug into her carpet, humping my hand like a mindless animal, and it
mesmerized me. Those violet eyes wanted one thing, and they wanted me
to give it to her. "You know, when Richard fucks me late at
night, sometimes I imagine it's you," she whispered.
My cock throbbed in response, and she licked her lips at the sight.
She quickly dropped to her knees. "Promise me you won't come
back," she said, as her fingers tightened around my shaft.
"Promise me we'll end this, Kevin." Violet eyes locked onto
mine. I thought it was fury that made them shine, but it was
lust--always lust. She dragged her bottom lip against my pulsing
cockhead. "Promise me you won't make me be so bad..." With
a feral moan, she descended on my penis. Wet tongue slid underneath
my vein, warm lips squeezed the skin.
I dragged my nails through her dark brown hair. "C-Cassandra..."
I gasped. "No, this...this isn't right..."
It wasn't. There were so many reasons why it wasn't. First of all, we
were doing the very thing I'd come here to apologize for. Second of
all, she was cheating on the man she was going to marry. Third of
all, that man was right down the hall!
Yes, these were three very good reasons why my teacher shouldn't suck
my dick, and I wish they convinced me. However, there was a fourth
reason--possibly the most relevant reason--why my teacher shouldn't
have been blowing me in her guest room, and kissing my inner thighs,
and licking the sweat off my balls. I wasn't using mind control!
Chapter 2: Fuck Me, Ms. Phillips?
It had been a week since Jayla Winters' party. That was one week
since Brit and I double-teamed Clarissa, one week since Jayla fucked
me in her bedroom, one week since Sean instigated an insane orgy and
the cops busted it up and I took Erika's virginity. It was also one
week since we'd finished off the potion...and the strange, toad-like
postman made me vomit blood.
Weird things were happening.
I was seeing things in my shadow. Not when I looked straight at it,
but when I glimpsed it from the corner of my eye. Sometimes it seemed
like a vine, growing in an endless spiral, growing and thickening and
reaching. Sometimes I could smell it. It overpowered the scents of
the real world with the wet rot and fragrant crush of a jungle.
Sometimes it didn't look like a vine, though. Sometimes it looked
like a hand, reaching out...
Strangers were smiling at me in the street. They'd stop what they
were doing and stare as I passed. Their eyes fixed on me, their lips
curled up in plastic joy. I was sure it was just my imagination,
until one day I couldn't pass through a crosswalk because everyone in
the crowd wanted to shake my hand.
I avoided crowds after that, but the spirals in my shadow were
inescapable, as was the sinking feeling in my gut. I was convinced
the postman was following me. He said he'd return, and that I'd face
some kind of "judgement." I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat.
Maybe that's why I saw the things I saw. I thought of that word,
"judgement," and what it entailed. Did I deserve to be
judged? Was I supposed to feel guilty?
I'd been horny for so long, and the potion was sweet release.
Together, Brit and I achieved our dirtiest fantasies. We knew the
power was addictive, but there was only so much of it. And we gave it
up in the end! Of course, we had to. We drank it all... Were our
crimes so foul? The pleasure and the potion were intertwined. Yes,
Clarissa may have despised me, but her orgasm was real. Jayla came
like a hurricane, Melanie like a typhoon; the storms of their lust
consumed me as surely as I blew through them. And I blew, load after
creamy load, inside them and on them and in their mouths…
And Ms. Phillips was blowing me. Why was she blowing me? And why was
she blowing me with such fervent desire?
As I stood in Ms. Phillip's musty guest room ("wobbled,"
would be more accurate to say) with my hands planted on her bobbing
head, I experienced both confusion and liberation. It had been a week
since I'd been inside a woman, and though I'd spent 18 years in that
exact situation, to go without after all my amorous adventures was
torturous. The blood emptied from my brain and filled my erection. It
swallowed up every ounce of sense, and drained my rational protests.
Cassandra couldn't be doing this of her own free will, yet the potion
was gone! All that remained of that delicious elixir was a desperate
horniness that put my prior lust to shame. I thrust my cock into
Cassandra's mouth, and moaned as her saliva trickled down my balls.
It fell from her lips in thick, dancing ropes.
"Where have you been all summer?" the woman gasped when she
finally pulled back. She grabbed my cock and stroked it with mad
purpose. "I've been waiting for you, Kevin." Sticky fingers
snapped open her blouse. The buttons pelted my chest, and her little
tits swung free. She rose, and sighed as my teeth encircled one rosy
areola. I filled my palm with the other pale breast, smaller than an
apple but tantalizingly soft. "Didn't you want me?" she
breathed into my neck.
My wet penis slid against her belly. "I wanted you so bad,"
I groaned. Her cum-smeared lips in my ear, her breath caressed my
"Take me now," she demanded.
"But, but your fi--"
"But this," she said, and bent over the bed. Those adorable
pink and white striped panties, she pulled them down her tight little
ass, and wiggled for me. Her buttocks were so much smaller than
Melanie's, her hips narrower than any girl I'd been with. If I
mounted her, would I snap her petite pelvis? Would I destroy her
tight little body?
I gazed at the pink lips of her vagina, swollen and smooth and
trapped between her creamy thighs. "I...shouldn't," I
She gazed at me over her shoulder, violet eyes bright. "But
My palm glided over her ass. "But..."
"--but I need you inside me," she moaned.
I had no rebuttal. I grabbed her hair, I grabbed my cock, and filled
her beautiful pussy. Tight muscle swallowed me up. Juice spilled down
her thighs. She was incomprehensibly wet. Her vagina audibly
squelched when I penetrated her. It was obscenely loud, and so was
I should have cared more about that. I should have restrained myself,
or at least covered her mouth. But how could I? My English teacher
was bent over this bed, her cotton panties twisted around her knees.
Her authoritative voice, stripped of all authority, was
demanding--no, begging--me to fuck her senseless.
My blood boiled inside me hotter than any potion. It screamed in my
ears as I made that first, joyous thrust. Ms. Phillips coaxed me on
with something like a junkie's sigh, like my cock was the demon drug
she'd fought so hard to resist. My naked cock dove through her, and
we grunted like animals. Sobriety was for quitters. My hands wrapped
around her petite hips, and I rapidly fucked her again.