The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dusty caught his breath as he entered his place. He had ran all the way from the center. His blue Oxford was soaked in sweat. He ripped off his cloth and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. After assessing the damage to his hair in the bathroom mirror he used some gel to give it a spike messy look. Fearing that they would come to his place Dusty decided to go out. After all if there was ever a reason to get drunk this would be it. He rushed out of his place once again forgetting his phone and the newest message on it ....“Your not here motherfucker! Wait until I get my hands on you”

On autopilot he made his way to the part of town that hadn’t yet fallen under the Zionites’ influence. Neon signs, bikers, people smoking, drinking, some high or getting there. Hookers in short skirts and spike heels called out to him enticingly. Dusty found to closest dive bar and plopped his butt on the bar Stool. “Shot of whiskey “he said to the bartender. Dusty drank it like it was kool aid as if the sharp and bitter taste would make sense of the last few days.

But the whiskey wasn’t enough to dispel the discomfort he felt in his own clothing, almost as though he’d developed an allergy to the material. He keep putting his hand around his neck look for something that wasn’t there. The second whiskey still didn’t bring any comfort. “A short of vodka for me and a refill for whatever my friends is having” the voice seemed to come from nowhere Dusty turned and saw a blind man sitting next to him.

“I’m sorry,” Dusty said, “Have we met?” There was something vaguely familiar about him, and something that gave him goosebumps. “We all know each other in a way” He said “All of us here in this place hoping these little glasses of poison will help us forget who we are” “Or in my case to help me remember” Dusty said as he take another shot of whiskey. The blind man motion for a refill “Yeah I sense you were a man in conflict. There seems to by a lot of that going around lately” The blind man said “It likes....” Dusty takes another drink “It like I didn’t even have control of myself...Like ....some being outside of myself just..just took over” “Yeah you know there are times I feel sorry for you humans” the blind man said “Humans” Dusty thinks to himself as he finish off his glass only to have another one placed before him “Your mislead to believe....mostly by me....that you have a choice in this War” the blind man said with a slight hint of a laugh “But the rules are the rules....even for me”

Dusty wasn’t sure if the man was drunk or crazy “Lets decide your fate the old fashion way” the blind man pulls a coin out of his pocket and flips it. He never bother to call it or look down when it hits the bar...not that he could of seen it if he did. “Dam...he wins again” The blind man said with a annoyed tone “to bad too...I was starting to like you” Dusty inebriated mind could not comprehend what he was talking about “Well I would like too wish you luck...but I can’t...wouldn’t benefit me” the blind man said as he slip off the bar stole “But for the rest of the night the drinks are on me....it the least I can do....I will see you at the end” “The End? ...what do you....” Dusty turns around but the man was gone.

Marilyn came to Caroline room only to see her kneeled down in prayer like she was a hour earlier. “My Child” Marilyn said " how can I help you” “I fear for Dustin, Aunt Marilyn,” Caroline told her with tears pricking her eyes. “I believe Heavenly Father has great plans for him, but I fear the Adversary will lead him back into weakness and corruption.” “That is why your prayer and devotion is so important” Marilyn said “I had Sister Grace leave something at his place that will aide Dustin in this battle for his soul”

That night as she slept Caroline dreamed she stood before a mirror, but her reflection kept shifting. One moment she was dressed and adorned as a Bride ready to receive her husband. In the next she was garbed as an Ordained Widow, forever mourning the death of He who was to have been her husband.

Dusty awoke next to a dried puddle of his own vomit, in a drunken stupor he had manage to pass out in his living room. He finally got on his feet only to almost fall back on his knee because of the throbbing pain in his head. The cold water from the bathroom sink did little to revive him. Between the mens spanking club and the blind man at bar the weirdness of yesterday cap what was easily the strangest week of his life. As his mind ran through the event of the week his thoughts turned to Caroline and for a brief moment Dusty felt a sense of peace. That peace faded away when he heard the front door open " Were are you at you little fucker”

Freddy was a seething mass of rage. She’d told him, over and over where to be and when, and not only did he not respond, he totally blew her off, and not in a sexy way! It was those damn Zionite pukes, she was sure of it. They had a way of getting in your head and twisting everything around until you didn’t know your ass from your elbow. There’d been a whole bunch of them at the arena last night holding some kind of protest, telling her to repent her “wild, erroneous ways” and “choose the right”. Well, fuck all of ’em. Fuck ’em all straight to hell. Upstairs Dusty emerged from the bathroom to the bedroom he saw something laid out on his bed .

“My Armor” this thought invaded Dusty mind as he looked at the suit on his bed. It was navy blue with a Two stripe tone pattern, next two it was a white dress shirt and a blue paisley tie. Freddy began pounding on the door “Open up you little shit head!". But this was but a distance echo to Dusty as he removed his sinful cloth and put a fresh pair of underwear and blue dress sock “Do you think I am fucking around Mother Fucker!” Screamed Freddy The shirt felt starch as he put it on, the way chain-mail must feel when adorn on a knight. Next came his pants and then came his shoes strong and sturdy shoe perfect to walk the better path. “I swear to God if you don’t open this door I will fucking kick it down!” Freddy scream through the door. He tied his tie like he had done it a thousand time bringing order to the chaos of his unbutton collar the way heavenly father has brought order to his chaotic life. The last remnants of Dusty washed away as Dustin put on his jacket resting it comfortably on his shoulder, strong shoulders of a Son of Zion.