The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Absolute Love

Chapter 1

I woke up to my alarm ringing at 7 AM. It had been a restless night, my half awake dreams all of glory and professional success, no doubt triggered by yesterday’s translation. I stumbled out of bed and went into the shower. I let the hot water fall down on my head and closed my eyes. I started thinking about Cindi again, how impressed she would be about my achievement. Perhaps then I would have the balls to ask her out, and she would be so impressed by my success that she would swoon over me.

I saw her in my mind’s eye, naked begging me to stick my dick inside her. My own dick was already hard, as my right hand started pulling and rubbing the tip. I took my manhood in my palm and started sliding it up and down my shaft, all while envisioning her moaning as my white cock penetrated her black, wet pussy. She was moaning and asking me to fuck her harder, complementing me on how hard and big my cock is when I felt my orgasm build up at my balls and up my shaft. I stroked myself faster as I heard her moan inside my head screaming to fuck her like the nigger bitch she was.

It was that word, that forbidden, nasty word—nigger—that brought me closer and closer to the edge. A word my ex would have punched me in the mouth if she ever thought I uttered it. A word that called up all sorts of forbidden, degrading pictures of a woman giving herself completely to me, allowing me to own her like a property or an object. A degrading word that spoke of slavery in times past and the right of a man like me to force myself on a woman and fulfil every one of my fantasies imply because of the color of her skin.

It was her moaning and screaming this word in my head that brought me over the edge. My dick started twitching and cum spurted out of my cockhead, traveling through a graceful arc into the tub’s drain. In my head my cum hit Cindi’s outstretched tongue and went into her waiting mouth; her head moving to try to catch as much as possible into her mouth, swallowing it at it went in.

Sexually satisfied, the guilt assailed me all at once. White, liberal guilt is what they call it. The shame of degrading other fellow human being, which is ingrained into us by a multicultural society that strives for equality for all. I believed it wholeheartedly. My intellectual mind knew how inequality is unfair and unjust. How it leads to a progressively worse and worse society which eventually explodes into chaos and rebellion. I believed in equality for all: men, women, black, white, hispanics, asians. I knew in my heart that degradation of a race brought nothing but darkness to your soul and society as a whole. My dick, however, did not seem to share in that sentiment, expecting my fantasies to be dark and controlling and humiliating to women. My head would repeat these forbidden, nasty words: bitch, cunt, cumdumpster, nigger, slut knowing full well that after I came there would be nothing left but shame about my depravity. But the pleasure those word brought was what my release demanded, and it was willing to put up with the shame so long as it came after my orgasm.

I tried my best to ignore my shame, with little success. I turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub and in front of the mirror. A white, 30-something, flabby man stared back at me. I’m not a great looking man, or at least I’m not in my head. I’m about 5′8″, 200 pounds, with very little muscle. I have a tattoo of a skull on my right shoulder, a memento of my misspent youth. I don’t work out, so the the 30 extra pounds all seem to be passively lying around my midsection and thighs. My face can be called handsome by most people with bad eyesight. I’m clean shaven, mainly because I can’t really grow a beard. My face used to be more triangular when I was younger, but now my cheeks bulge out more and my second chin is far more prominent. I steal a glance at me and avoid my green eyes as to not face myself so early in the morning with racists epitaphs still fresh in my mind.

I avoid the mirror while I dry and groom myself for the day and walk out to get dressed. Another day at the office, which means slacks, a button down shirt and my skater shoes that are comfortable while still almost-profesional. I take all of 10 minutes to dress and rush out the door and into my car. The car ride to my work is short and boring. I live 15 minutes away with no traffic, which is why I usually end up going early as to avoid a commute that can easily stretch to 45 minutes if I leave late.

I pull into my parking space and walk into the lobby of my building, my gaze already searching for her as I walk in through the door. I see her standing behind the register, wearing a short, light-red summer dress with flowers imprinted on it. Her dress goes down about mid thigh, and it exposes a nice view of her modest cleavage. I can’t see her shoes, but since she seems taller than she actually is, so I assume high heels. She’s wearing hoop earrings and an amber necklace nestled between her breasts. She stares up and recognition flashes across her eyes as she sees me. Her mouth turns up into a “customer service smile” and she sees me approach.

“Hi Jon! The usual?” She says in a cheery voice. She doesn’t even wait for my acceptance nod and her hands move towards the coffee cups and prepares my coffee.

“You know it” I answer in return meeting her gaze for a second before I look away nervously to my wallet. A vision of her bent over spreading her pussy flashes in my mind, reminding me of this morning’s masturbation session and possibly making me blush, although I fight against it. “Looks like today is going to be a scorcher!” I say nervously while handing her three dollars.

She finishes pouring the brewed coffee into my cup and reaches for my money. Her smile never leaves her face, although it seems practiced and fake. “A smile reserved for customers and nothing more” I think to myself as she takes my cash and puts in the register. She makes the change, hands it to me and replies “Yea, so they say. But at least it’s Wednesday! Week almost over!” in an encouraging, office tone.

We exchange “see you later”’s and I walk to the elevator up to my office, slowly sipping my coffee and letting the caffeine wash over me. I can slowly feel my mind beginning to work again after the taste hits my tongue. Just how I like it I think to myself with a grin black and sweet.