The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I must have dozed off—or more likely, zoned out, for when I pay attention to my surroundings again, I’m lying on the bed in the same room as before, naked as a jaybird, two fingers lazily playing with my own pussy. There’s a soft and warm sensation on my chest, one that’s working to arouse me all over again, for even though I may have stubbed my earlier craving with Sanderson, the dark demons of my unnatural urges are waking right back up.

I open my eyes, and there’s a woman there, a tiny thing, washing me with a warm cloth. She’s washing me with soft touches, concentrating, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips. It’s the one everyone calls Mouse; I have never heard her real name. She rarely speaks and when she does her voice is barely audible and her tone says she expects to be insulted or hit or both. Cassandra, in particular, whenever I’ve been in the recreation room of the ward surrounded by other patients—though with my eyes closed and unable to interact with anyone else—seemed to enjoy teasing and bullying the poor girl—how old is Mouse anyway? Older than I am, certainly—which hardly surprises me coming from the dominant woman. Poor Mouse with her submissive attitude, fodder for the aggressive demanding Cassandra. Even now, Mouse’s shoulders are hunched, as if she’s a turtle trying to hid in her shell—the perfect victim.

Even as I feel pity mixed with projected irritation at her predicament, my body reacts to Mouse’s submissiveness and a sudden and strong desire to grab the poor girl’s head and push it down between my legs and force her to lick me and suck out the semen that Sanderson spurted inside me and that I can feel slowly seep out and trickle down my thighs washes over me like a tidal wave of lust.

Mouse, who’s running the soft damp cloth over my breasts, notices both my shivers and the sudden hardening of my nipples, and casts me a quick glance before looking back down.

“You have such beautiful skin, Mistress,” she says, barely audible, almost mumbling. I try to resist what my body is clamoring for, but there is no use.

“Come here,” I say, my voice hard, demanding, calling up all the domination I can muster. I react to Mouse’s presence, and my lust ignites suddenly. I need sex again, and Mouse is there, and Mouse needs to be dominated, and dominating her makes me hot and hungry. I’m going to destroy that poor little submissive bitch, make her beg me for mercy.

For a split second, I wonder where Sanderson is right now, how he feels about what happened earlier, how he feels about me—but I can’t think about that right now, just like I can’t think about Daniel and how much I miss him and how much I wish he was here to hold me and take me away from this hell, but even just the image of Daniel—the warmth of his eyes, the tenderness of his hands, his smile that always would cheer me up and make me fall in love with him all over again—triggers that fear deep in my bones, that fear that Biff stuffed in there, along with all the other crap he tossed in and that landed me here a toy for others to use and abuse.

Mouse is privy to none of that internal tension. At my words, she shivers, trembling from head to toe, and drops the washcloth, her eyes having difficulty meeting mine. She shifts closer to me, and I can see her lower lips tremble and she stops it by biting it softly, a move that reminds me of a young cousin of mine—will I ever see her again? Will I ever see anyone I know and love again?

Images of Daniel playing with children flash in my mind before I can stop it and panic starts swooping in—but Mouse biting her lips makes her look so vulnerable that I feel the wash of lust sweeping me and suddenly I just want to hurt this poor girl—probably because I know that’s just what she wants. I grab Mouse’s short hair, and pull her to me and she does not fight me when I kiss her hard, less to share an intimate moment than to make it clear that I am her boss, her mistress, her goddess. And Mouse, darling Mouse, inoffensive Mouse, submits, opening her mouth and accepting my burning kisses.

When I break off the kiss to catch my breath, I sense that Mouse wants to say something. I toy with the idea of spitting into her mouth, but save it for later, the expectation heating up my dripping cunt. The thought of getting her little tongue scooping out Sanderson’s cum from between my legs makes me shiver.

“Yes?” I ask her.

She demurs. “A lowly slave must ask permission before speaking, Mistress.”

“Oh, like you did before?”

Mouse, still avoiding my eyes, flushes bright red. “Mistress will have to punish this stupid disobedient slave, then.” I can practically smell her arousal from where I am, and it’s not helping me think straight.

“We’ll see. What did you want to tell your Mistress?”

“Your mascara, Mistress. It’s running.”

She picks up the warm washcloth and wipes beneath my eyes.

As she does that, the full force what I must look like hits me: naked, cum dripping from my abused cunt, mascara running down my face, a silent witness to how my throat was used as a deep fuck hole. That Mouse is lovingly cleaning me up just rounds off that picture of depravity—she’s cleaning me up despite the fact that I want to do disturbing sadistic things to her body until she cries and begs me to stop because she can’t take it anymore but knowing full well that I won’t stop and that her tears just egg me on to ruin her for anyone else and to destroy her so that anybody who sees her feels both lust and pity for the wreckage of a body she’s been left with. My cunt twitches in expectation for what is to come.

I kiss her again, much more violently, biting her lower lip and tasting her young blood on my tongue and hearing her whimpers, in a repetition of what I did to Sanderson earlier but this time not to entice a lover but rather to hurt and make her cry and scream. Without even realizing it I’m grasping her small breasts through her white blouse and squeezing as hard as I can and the scream of pain she lets out in my mouth almost makes me come on the spot—my body needs to feel that cute little body squirming underneath me.

And I would have done exactly that and more, I am deadly certain, if not for the door opening and letting in a man. For a second, I think Sanderson has come back, and my pussy and my ass twitch in expectation, and I grab Mouse by the shoulders and twist her around so that she’s facing him. I pull her back against my chest while my hands are back on her small breasts kneading them roughly and trying to pinch her nipples through her blouse.

But it’s not Sanderson. It’s an older Latino man, dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, with really short cropped hair, almost shaved. The large webbing tattoo on the side of his neck catches my eye; it covers at least half of the exposed skin and reaches up almost to his ear.

He freezes as soon as he sees me and Mouse. “Holy shit,” he says, looking at us. I’m used to having men looking at me, especially since Biff forced me to wear clothes that expose my body precisely to attract men’s attention, but this time is different. The man’s eyes shift between me and Mouse, still on my lap getting pawed, but eventually settle on Mouse, and I can read ravenous hunger in his gaze.

I can read the situation easily. “Stand up girl,” I tell Mouse, pushing her up. “Present yourself to the nice man.”

That’s when I finally notice that Mouse is dressed as a schoolgirl, or more accurately, a fetishist’s view of a schoolgirl: her white blouse is tight and tied to bare her midriff, her blue pleated skirt is short and exposes the whole length of her naked legs, and she wears knee-high knitted blue socks and saddle shoes with a low heel.

The man just looks on, and Mouse remains motionless, her knees together, her head down, the hands joined behind her back.

“Santa Madre, you’re cute!” the man finally says. He takes a careful step towards Mouse. “Pietro said you’d be, but man, you’re perfect. Fuck, you’re hot!”

I’m still naked on the bed, watching the scene, idly caressing myself. I’m still horny, of course, and the presence of this man is sending every nerve of my body into high gear.

My body automatically picks up on what the man likes, responding to the scene before it. The knowledge of what’s going on makes me hotter, and I start fingering myself more thoroughly, sliding my fingers between my pussy lips, encountering the thick gluey cum from Sanderson, which highlights even more my sluttiness, something that sends my body into overdrive. I can’t keep a moan out.

The man turns to look at me. He takes in my naked body, at my hand between my spread thighs caressing myself. I look at him, look into his eyes, see his desires, and I strike.

I smile, taking my hand up to my mouth and rubbing it into my lips. I lick them, tasting Sanderson’s cum on the tip of my fingers. I glance at Mouse with my eyes, and tell the man. “Do you like Jennie’s daughter, Sir?”

The man stares at me, as if trying to understand what my game is. Come on, Tattoo Guy, catch up. I grin, shake my head, and go back to caressing my dripping pussy. The man follows my hand.

“Sugar,” I tell Mouse, and she easily picks up I’m talking to her by my tone of voice, and also because despite her behavior, I can tell that she’s no idiot. “This is going to be your new daddy tonight. You will treat him as well as you treated your real daddy, okay? You take care of him good, you hear?”

Mouse does not answer, merely nods her head barely perceptibly, and my voice hardens. “You take care of him good, you hear, Mouse?”

“Yes…” comes her voice, small, almost fearful. Her body language has changed, as if she has suddenly grown younger.

The tattooed man looks from me to Mouse and back to me, still trying to understand what is going on. I can see the bulge in his jeans. I smile at him and wink. “Mouse,” I say, “go greet your new daddy.”

Mouse doesn’t respond and shyly walks over to the tattooed man, who looks at her walk towards him with fascination. “Amazing,” he says, whistling to himself. “She’s such a pretty little thing.”

“Isn’t she?” I’m smack in my role as the dominant shameless mother pimping out her daughter to strange men, and my cunt is ecstatic with the act and wants nothing more than feeling the tattooed man’s cock pounding it. “She’s had a tough time when her real father left when she was young, and she’s been looking everywhere for a new father figure—you know: a big strong man to look up to and show her the proper way to act as a woman.”

Tattooed Man gives me a glance, and I can see understanding in his eyes and a smile comes upon his face, and it is not a particularly pleasant smile. I don’t know what this man’s background is, but it’s not a nice one, I’m willing to bet. My cunt acquiesces, and wants nothing more than for Tattooed Man to not be nice to it.

Mouse stops right before Tattooed Man, her hands still behind her back, her head down. I can tell that that her pretty little pussy is dripping wet at the prospect of submitting to the man’s perverted fantasy. Suddenly, it flashes into my mind: I wonder if she ran into someone like Biff, someone that reprogrammed her mind to become this sort of fantasy girl.

“Thank the man, baby,” I tell her, unable to stop myself. “Thank him for being your new daddy and to teach you how to be a good girl.”

Mouse blushes, and rises her eyes just enough to cross Tattooed Man’s gaze. The man is shaking his head in disbelief, still with his disturbing smile on his face, and he reaches up to press one of Mouse’s breasts through her blouse, pawing it softly, but acting as though he wants to do it a lot harder but restraining himself to increase his future pleasure. Building expectation.

“Thank you, daddy,” says Mouse in a small voice. “Thank you for showing me how to be a good girl.” The way she emphasizes good girl is enough to send my cunt is spasms of pleasure. It seems to affect Tattooed Man in a same way, because he laughs, a laugh that sounds more like a growl.

“You’re welcome, my pretty little thing. How about we show your mother here how well you swallow cock? I’m sure you’ve sucked loads in school.”

“Yes, daddy,” Mouse says, with a trembling soft voice. Without further ado, she drops to her knees—her little skirt exposing her ass, and I’m swamped with the desire to see that tiny ass ravaged by a large cock, natural or otherwise, and my eyes automatically flash to the table in the corner with the implements that Cassandra mentioned to Sanderson earlier, and I just know there is a huge dildo in there, and I picture it sawing in and out of Mouse’s ass as she’s satisfying the Tattooed Man and it’s making my head spin. My fingers are going faster and faster over my hungry cunt.

“Oh fuck yeah!” comes the groan from Tattooed Man, and I see that Mouse has pulled his jeans off and is jauntily sucking him down, her eyes closed, her pretty face bobbing up and down over the man’s cock which looks like it ought to not fit in the petite woman’s mouth but she seems to be able to spread her lips wide and has no difficulty taking half the shaft into her mouth.

It doesn’t take long before Tattooed Man is grabbing Mouse’s head and keeps it in place while he drives his hips forward, fucking into Mouse’s face, over and over again, and Mouse gags and drools and hacking sounds come from her throat but she keeps her eyes closed and despite an infrequent grimace she looks like this is exactly what she wants, and my attentive eyes see her hips shifts slightly in time with the man’s thrusts and I know full well she’s wet and ready for hard fuck. I feel bad for the submissive girl, but my body thinks it’s the hottest thing ever and my fingers are pushing in and out of my own cunt wishing someone was pile driving me just like that.

Tattooed Man is grunting, and Mouse is letting him do whatever he wants.

“That’s it, daddy,” I say, watching the display before me with envy and lust, “fuck my daughter’s little mouth—show her how a real man does his thing, show her who’s the boss. Fuck the little bitch’s throat!”

Tattooed Man turns to look at me and I blow him a kiss. He grins and then his eyes glaze over and from that and his jerky movements I can tell he’s about to come and with a particularly vicious thrust that sinks an additional two inches of his cock down Mouse’s gullet he explodes with a loud grunt, his whole body tensing. Mouse’s chokes on the spurting semen flooding her mouth and she coughs despite the man’s shaft blocking her air and snot and cum fly out of her nose and drips down her face. Tattooed Man is grinding his shaft inside her, thrusting slightly to push his cock deeper, his eyes closed, a look of utter bliss on his face. I’ve got four fingers in my cunt and I sneak my other hand to my ass and finger myself there as well. I want his cock so bad it’s burning me.

When Tattooed Man lets Mouse go, she pulls back and takes big gulps of air, and the sight of her face all red and tear-streaked sends sparks down my spine. As Mouse tries to catch her breath, I beckon her over.

“Come see mommy, baby. Mommy’s cunt need some loving care like you just gave your new daddy. Come and suck mommy’s cunt, baby. Come.”

Mouse does not hesitate and comes over to me, on all four, making sure she sways her ass unambiguously with every step. Tattooed Man watches her go, and I can’t help but notice his cock is still quite hard.

“Take off that shirt,” I tell Mouse, while leaning back and spreading my legs further, giving her access. “Show your new daddy your pretty little titties and maybe he’ll kiss them and suck them and squeeze them when he fucks your tight little pussy later.”

Mouse flushes and her breath still short—and with a thin line of cum hanging from her nose—she strips off her shirt. No bra underneath, of course, and her small pert breasts were tipped with round hard nipples. A desire to bite those little nipples off runs through my mind, and thank God the desire to feel her tongue lapping me up overwhelms the desire to hurt her, or I don’t know what I might do.

As it is, the sight of Mouse going down on me, her lithe little tongue lapping my pussy lips and sneaking inside and finding the goo that Sanderson left earlier and sucking it off with relish is enough to make me forget everything else. I grab her head and presses her down hard on my crotch, guiding it so that I can shift my hips and rub my hard clit against her face, over and over again, spreading my cunt juices over her pretty face, abusing her like Tattooed Man was abusing her earlier—she just calls for it, and I know for a fact that if I was to reach down between her legs and feel her pussy I’d find it dripping wet and craving a big fat cock to rip her open.

Big fat cock. Tattooed Man. He’s looking at us, slowly stroking his cock, and his eyes are fixated on Mouse’s tight almost boyish ass still exposed by her short flared skirt. I catch his eye, and wink at him.

“How about you come here, daddy, and mommy will get you all hard again so you teach my pretty little daughter all about fucking real men?”

Tattooed man grins, and swaggers towards us. “Mother and daughter, huh? Every guy’s dream, ain’t it? Okay, mommy, suck me off then. And then I’m gonna pound that pretty little bitch so hard she’s gonna remember me for the rest of her life.”

Both Mouse and I shiver at his words, and Mouse’s mouth on my cunt gets even busier. “Fuck yeah,” I groan, lifting my hips. “Stick your fingers in mommy’s ass, baby. Oh! That’s it! Just like that! All the way in mommy’s ass!” Her fingers in my rear feel amazing, and I hump them and her tongue in alternation, while Tattooed Man walks up to my side of the bed.

His cock is right there in front of my face, still shiny with Mouse’s drool and some of his cum. “Fuck this dirty mother’s mouth,” I groan to him, and his lopsided smile tells me just how much of a slut he thinks I am as he grabs my head and sticks his cock inside and I swear I come right then and there with that big cock invading me and Mouse’s tongue and lips and fingers working me between my legs.

Tattooed Man is grunting as I suck him off to the best of my abilities, and I’m impressed how hard he is despite having come not two minutes ago. I let him know, because I know full well that’s the sort of thing that really gets to a guy. “Wow, daddy, you’re still so hard and big.”

Tattooed Man laughs and runs his hand through my hair, almost tenderly. I spot another tattoo on his forearm as his shirt sleeve pulls up—another extensive webbed design. “Well, it’s been a while, mommy.” I think he likes this little role-playing game. “It’s what happens when you do time. Now that I’m out, I’ve got some catching up to do. And fuck do you ever know how to suck cock!”

I let his cock slide out of my mouth, doing my best to make it pop out and let a lot of drool sneak out. I smile at him. “You can fuck mommy too, if you want, daddy. Her cunt’s not as tight, but it’s got a lot more experience.”

“I bet it does, you puta. Bet you’ve been fucking since you were a kid yourself.” He turns to look at Mouse, still licking me with enthusiasm. “So, who’s Biff?” he asks, with a grin. He’s seen my own tattoo, framing my cunt. Biff’s Cunt.

“My own daddy,” I say, taking a second to let his cock slip out of my mouth. I look at him with a glint of glee in my eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs. “You’re one sick bitch, that’s for sure.” He lets me suck him a bit more, while he stares at Mouse’s ass. “Right, well, this is great, but I gotta get me some of that young tight pussy there.”

“Go ahead, fuck her hard, she’s gonna love every minute of it. The little slut’s always whining for a big cock to pound her.” My intuition does its thing, and reads Tattooed Man’s body language and it knows just what to say. “If you want, daddy, you can fuck her ass, too. It’s real tight, and it’s hardly been used.”

He looks at Mouse’s ass in her short little skirt, hunger on his face.

I grin, giving a long languorous lick to his cock. “Anything for you, daddy…” I emphasize the anything, and he looks at me and understands that I just offered him my own ass if he wants it. I shiver inside at the thought, and my pussy gushes at the image of this hard man splitting me open back there. Mouse moans softly as she laps up the dripping juices.

Tattooed man looks at Mouse eating me out, and shakes his head, laughing. “This is fucking great!” He reaches down and grabs Mouse’s hair and pulls her head up. “Look at me, you pretty little bitch. I’m going to fuck you now. Fuck you hard. What do you say?”

Mouse swallows—her face is shiny with my juices, and her eyes are slightly crazed when she glances up at the man before looking down. “You can do anything you want to me, daddy,” she says in a low voice. “I’m a good obedient little girl.”

“That’s right, you are.” He’s still smiling as he looks at her, and then he gets a weird expression on his face. “What’s your name?”

Mouse doesn’t know what to respond.

“Mouse,” I jump in. “They call her Mouse.”

“Mouse? What sort of name is Mouse?”

“Just look at her,” I laugh, and reach down to squeeze one of her small breasts. Mouse squeals and starts panting. She licks her lips, still splattered with my juices. “She’s this tiny little thing. And she’s so easily scared and taken advantage of. When a big strong man wants to shove his cock up her holes, she can hardly fight back.”

Tattooed Man grunts at my words, and I see his cock twitch, and for a second there I wish it’s me that he’s going to fuck. “Mouse, huh?” he says. And then he tilts his head, and frowns. “You look… familiar.”

“Just fuck the little slut, daddy,” I groan, reaching down to grasp his cock as it dangles there, between his legs, as he crouches to stare into her face. “Mommy wants to feel daddy’s cock pound into her little body and see her come hard.”

That seems to jerk Tattooed Man out of his reverie, and he struts behind Mouse. He takes a moment to appreciate the boyish ass of the small woman in front of him, running his hand underneath the diminutive skirt.

Mouse groans when Tattooed Man sinks two fingers inside her, and he laughs to himself. “Man, she’s tight, ain’t she?”

I look at him, and blow him a kiss. “All the better to make her new daddy happy.”

I don’t know if he heard me, because he’s intent on what he’s doing, which is pressing the head of his cock against Mouse’s slit. My cunt is so fucking jealous that I almost whimper out in need, and relieve the internal pressure by grabbing Mouse’s head and pressing her down into my crotch again, telling her to suck me harder while she fucks her new daddy. Her response is muffled, and I don’t know whether she’s responding to my demand or to the cock that just then sinks deep into her.

Tattooed Man fucks her hard, a look of utter and complete bliss on his face, and the hammer blows he gives her make Mouse grunt and I feel them as she’s slammed into my cunt over and over again and fuck me if I’m not going to come myself just from that and the visuals.

Having already come once before, Tattooed Man lasts much longer this time, but Mouse still arouses him enough that he doesn’t last as long as he might have otherwise—I’d like to think that my own contribution, a wanton brunette egging him and Mouse on to fuck harder and to “really slam the little slut,” helps him along.

Mouse is beyond pleasure, enjoying being caught between Tattooed Man and myself, both of us using her shamelessly for our own ends, and she comes several time while Tattooed Man pounds into her, the last one when Tattooed Man lets out a loud grunt and slams hard and explodes inside her. I grab Mouse’s head and rub it violently up and down against my cunt, smashing her face into my clit, and bringing myself off as Tattooed Man finished spurting inside her and then staggers backward, drained.

Driven by the need, and by the smell, I grab Mouse’s head again—my body tingles every time I do that—and kiss her hard, tasting myself on her lips, before tossing her on the bed and diving between her legs, licking and sucking the semen that Tattooed Man had deposited there.

“Fuck me—that’s hot!” he groans, watching me clean Mouse in and out, while she thrashes on the bed under my assault. I don’t care if she enjoys it or not—though from the feeling of her cunt clenching around my tongue and my fingers, I can tell she does in fact enjoy it tremendously—I just need to feel Tattooed Man cum in my mouth. When it hits my tongue, it’s like a drug that sends waves of pleasures down every single one of my nerves, and I shiver and tremble as I lick and suck noisily.

Tattooed Man approaches the side of the bed, and I can see from the corner of my eye that he has a cell phone in his hand. “I’ve definitively seen you before,” he says, looking at Mouse. He snaps a few pictures of her and I as Mouse shivers her way into another orgasm, her thighs pressing against the sides of my head. He winks in my direction. “Pietro said no pics, but we’re not gonna tell, are we, mommy?” He has a smile on his face, but I can hear the threat in his voice clearly.

He stares at me for a moment longer, watching me tongue Mouse’s pussy to seek more juices, and my eyes roll in the back of my head under the ecstasy of the sensations engulfing me. My body loves cum—freshly drained, warm, runny—nectar of the gods as prescribed by High Priest Biff. “Next time,” says Tattooed Man, “I’ll do you too, mommy. And your slutty little daughter here will suck my balls while I do.”

I groan when I hear him say that, and look up to him. “How about you fuck mommy now, daddy? Her cunt’s hungry.” And I move to stand up.

He laughs and backs away. “Hold on, mommy. I need a bit of a break here. But you and that slut can make out a bit…”

I bite my lips, and in slow motion, moving my body to emphasize every curve I have, I crawl on top of Mouse to kiss her and rub my breasts against hers. She doesn’t resist—I don’t expect her to—and submits to my advances. Just the feeling of her body against mine is getting me hot again, and I start rubbing my cunt against hers, and it feels so good I’m going out of my mind.

By the time I’m locked in a sixty-nine with Mouse, Tattooed Man is gone, but I don’t care—though my body whines at the disappearance of his cock—I’m on the brink of another orgasm as I lick off Mouse’s cunt and hump her face with my own, rubbing against her lips and against her tongue over and over again until the world explodes in a shower of lights.

The rest is fuzzy in my mind, with more orgasms and more abuse of the poor Mouse who takes it all with her customary submissiveness, enjoying everything I can dish out, even when I grab one of the whips from the table and start slashing her breasts, her cries of pleasure and pain unleashing pure fire deep in my cunt.

My mind completely overloaded, blinking in and out of consciousness, I barely register Cassandra coming in at some point, and finding Mouse between my legs, gently licking my cunt to soothe its rawness. Her tongue feels amazing, soft and cool, and I wish I could have her lick me like that forever.

Cassandra grabs Mouse and pulls her to her feet and kisses her, a harsh kiss that turns almost tender by the end, as Mouse whimpers in the taller brunette’s arms. Cassandra whispers some things that I can’t hear in Mouse’s ear, her hand caressing the poor girl’s hair and running down her back. I’m not out of it enough to not see the love, even though Cassandra ends the hug by pinching one of Mouse’s badly abused tits.

Later—how much later? I must have blanked out again—I come to when Doctor Agnieska enters the room accompanied by a wide-eyed Sanderson. My hands are between my legs, fingers in my cunt, thrusting in and out slowly, almost languorously. My ass is pressed into a cold puddle of my own juices.

Doctor Agnieska pulls out a syringe from a medical bag. As she taps the needle, she whispers, “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s all going to be okay… This is going to make everything better, you’ll see…”

I barely pay attention as she presses the needle into my shoulder. My gaze is directed at Sanderson—a man! a man with a cock I can practically smell from where I lie, a cock I want to feel punching into me like the worthless slut that I am—I start to salivate, and I can’t stop the words pouring out of my mouth. “Fuck Jennie… Please… Fuck Jennie… Jennie needs your cock… Jennie needs your cock inside her…”

The doctor’s drugs are effective, and the world starts to dim slowly, and my body relaxes, imperceptibly at first, and while the desire to reach out to grab Sanderson and strip him and jump him is still there, it is possible for me to ignore. Sweet bliss is about to descend upon me again, and I’m looking forward to it, looking forward to the oblivion, the tranquility, the peace.

As Doctor Agnieska fusses with her medical bag, I look up; Sanderson is staring at me. I thought I’d see pity, or disgust, in his eyes, but much to my surprise, I don’t. I see… I can’t describe it. Or I can. It is a look I have seen before. It is a look that I have last seen in Daniel’s eyes.

I brace myself for the fear response that any thought of my fiancé sparks, but whatever Doctor Agnieska gave me must be strong because while the fear is there, it is almost abstracted, in the background. For a split second, I feel myself. I can’t describe it. I’m not a slave to my drives, but I’m not floating on a cloud of bliss. It’s that magical balancing moment that I milk for all it is worth.

I want to bask in my memory of Daniel’s face, his laugh, the way we used to just hang out together reading, or watching an old movie, or just working together, side by side, happy with each other’s presence. I focus on one single memory, our first kiss, after a midnight showing Casablanca at the University Theater, while we were arguing the psychology of the movie characters: the look in his eyes, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on my back. I savor the memory, relive it, seek strength from it. It gives me hope. And a desire to escape. To find Daniel, and put all of this behind me.

Sanderson is still looking at me. My consciousness is slipping away. I stare into his eyes, and I barely have time to mutter the words “Please Richard… Please help Jennie…” before everything finally fades away.