The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Susan awoke, feeling something wet on her pillow. She guessed it was tears. She’d been crying in her sleep again. It had happened a lot recently. She hadn’t awakened crying his name this time, which was a relief. The other people in the apartment thought she was weird. Nobody understood. Nobody but her.

She showered. It wouldn’t do to go to work smelling like she’d spent the whole night fingering herself. She dried off and left the towel on the bathroom floor. She stood naked in front of the mirror as she brushed her long, dark hair. Her pale skin reflected seven years spent out of the sun. She made another X on the calendar. She had now been free for two months. She’d been having the dreams for two months.

I was never apart from Master until they came for me. she thought to herself. I haven’t seen him since they took him to jail. They won’t let me. Why? She checked the clock. It was four in the morning. She had three hours until the alarm would go off.

Susan sat silently at the little table. At least she could see Master. He didn’t look happy, but she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t like being apart from him, and he was most likely getting lonely in that jail cell. When she had been called to the stand, she had adamantly refused to testify for the prosecution. She said she would only testify for the defense. They brought in a psychiatrist to interview Susan. When it was over, he said she had something called Stockholm Syndrome.

“I am NOT crazy!” Susan insisted.

“It isn’t a matter of crazy or sane, Susan.” the psychiatrist said. “It is simply a matter of misplaced identification with your tormentor.”

“That’s just a pretty way of saying ‘crazy.’” Susan remarked. There was nothing more Susan could do. Master was declared guilty as charged.

Susan had run away when they had tried to put her in a mental hospital. She knew she wasn’t crazy. When the police started to look for her, she got fake IDs and changed her name, moved to another state and hid on a ranch. She watched the papers and was elated when she read that people were protesting his parole, scheduled for next week. She’d spent six months tortured by dreams that wouldn’t go away.

Susan glared hatefully at the police who stood around, keeping protesters back. They’d instantly recognize her and put her in a hospital, which was the last place she wanted to go. The judge had added a strange condition to his parole: that he move to another state and take a new name and identity to be assigned by the FBI. She had a difficult time keeping track of him. She quickly came to understand why the judge had done this. She was a fugitive now, and they wanted to catch her before she got to him. She discovered his new house and snuck in through the back way, hiding in the attic before he had all his belongings moved in. The FBI watchdogs kept tabs on where he went and how long he stayed there, and who came and went. But she was already in the house.

Susan came into his bedroom during the night. The curtains were drawn.

“Who’s there?” Master’s voice asked.

“Master?”

“Susan?” He fumbled for the lamp cord. He was dressed in Fruit of the Loom briefs and socks, both white. And he’d gotten a haircut. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t stand being without you.” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been having these dreams. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in months.”

“Susan, I...”

“Shhh.” she said. “Please, Master, for me...”

“Alright. For you.” Master said. Susan slipped out of her sweater and pants, kicking off the shoes as she went. She had been wearing nothing else, and so was now completely naked. She smiled as she got to her knees. He quickly doffed his briefs and socks.

“What is your command, My Master?” she asked, happily slipping back into her old role.

“Start with my cock.” he commanded. She took his engorged head in her mouth and slowly, ever so slowly, eased her nose toward his pubic hair. He growled low in pleasure. She began the agile workings of her tongue that had become second nature during their seven years together. She had no trouble bringing him to orgasm. She relished the familiar taste of his hot come in her mouth, flowing down her throat. She licked him clean and helped him get hard again. “Drape yourself over the bed.” he commanded. She did as he had commanded. She was very wet in anticipation of what was to come. She could sense his cock circling the entrance to her hot twat. He need only thrust himself in. She gasped in pleasure as he sheathed his whole throbbing member inside her. He moved himself into and out of her with that slow thrust designed to prolong her pleasure. She closed her eyes, loving every moment and letting her Master know it with every vocalization. She clawed the sheets, she squirmed and tightened up, did everything she could to increase her Master’s pleasure.

“Oh, yes!! Yes! Oh, who’s your sex toy?! Who’s your blowup doll?!” she cried.

“You are.” he growled in lust. He kept her on the brink of orgasm for several minutes before finally firing his wad of come into her body. She came violently, milking him for all he was worth. She lay spent and exhausted, on the bed where her Master laid her so she wouldn’t slip off. She rolled onto her back when her Master joined her on the bed.

“They’re never going to let us be together, Susan.” he said.

“How about I kidnap you for seven years? Fair’s fair.”

“They won’t let it happen. I did something they think is wrong. They’re never going to let me lead a normal life until they’ve undone what has happened to you, maybe not even then.”

“What’s the difference between a woman and a light bulb?” Susan asked, trying to change the subject.

“I give up. What?”

“You can unscrew a light bulb.” Master laughed. He held her close, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

Master was waking up. Susan smiled. She reached over and caressed his cheek. He sat up, pulling at the seatbelt across his chest.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“The road.” Susan said.

“Where are we going?”

“Las Vegas.”

“Why are we going there?”

“To get married.”

“Not that I’m complaining or anything, but how are we going to get away with that?”

“They’re too busy trying to find all the bombs I told them I hid in the city.” Susan said. “By the time they can spare the manpower to come looking for us, we’ll be in Mexico.”

“What then?”

“Well, I figure after a night of piña coladas, we can sneak our way into South America and maybe con someone out of a coffee plantation or something like that. What do you think?”

“You really ARE crazy if you think we’ll get away with that.” he said. “But I’m with you all the way, honey.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Flashing lights in the rear view mirror alerted them to the presence of a police car behind them.

“Cover up, quick!” she said, pulling over. Susan saw that the cop had no partner in the car with her, unless you count the dog in the back seat.

“Where are you going?” the cop asked. She was a lithe young female, but there was a seriousness about her that turned men off as much as her body turned them on.

“Vegas.” Susan said. “Is there a problem?”

“Just checking everybody coming from the west. There was a bomb scare over there. Feds found out it was a hoax so some girl could help her sex-offender boyfriend get away. Can I see your license and registration please?”

“Sure, it’s right over here.” Susan said, reaching toward the armrest between the seats. Suddenly she jerked her elbow back, catching the she-cop in the chin and knocking her out. She got out and relieved the cop of her weapons, including the two rifles in the car, and loaded them in the van. She lay the cop across the hood of her cruiser and took off in the van. “We’ll have to ditch the van.” she said. “It’s a pity. I like this van.”

Seven cars and several thousand miles later, Susan and her Master found their way to Vegas, but all roads leading to the city were blocked. The Feds were doing a car-by-car search.

“Damn.” Susan said. She pulled over, hiding the car behind a billboard. “Looks like we walk.” Hours later they made their way into one of Las Vegas’s many chapels which were attached to casinoes. Master didn’t seem all that comfortable.

“Nervous, honey?” she asked.

“Just cautious, sweetie.” he responded. “I saw a bunch of cops out in the casino.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re coming in here.” Susan said. They got their licenses and approached the pulpit to talk to the guy in the Elvis costume about the wedding.

“No problem.” the guy said. “I just have to step outside for a moment.” He started toward the door. Susan grabbed his arm.

“What for?” she asked.

“Feds say there’s a sex offender on his way to Vegas to marry his captive, or somethin’ like that. Punched out a cop somewhere an’ took the guns. Anyway, they got people staking out all the chapels, an’ I have to let them know before I do any weddings. But don’t worry, as soon as they see you’re not the ones they’re lookin’ for, they’ll leave an you can go about yer business.” Susan pressed the cop’s handgun (which she had hidden in her purse) into the man’s spine.

“I don’t think you need to tell them about us.” Susan said.

Susan was glad the wedding had gone off without any shots being fired. All they needed to do now was get out of town without getting caught by the cops.

“You know, this is kinda thrilling.” Master said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Are you happy, Master?” Susan asked.

“I’ll be happy when I shake this feeling that there’s a cop standing over my shoulder all the time.” Master replied, smoothing the hairs on the back of his neck down. Susan nodded, agreeing strongly. She noticed a helicopter landing on top of a building and got an idea.

The Australian Outback wasn’t the dream retreat Susan’s hypothetical stolen plantation would have been, but Federal agents had seen to it that no place in the Americas would be safe for them anymore. Susan had burst into tears before the last, desperate run, wondering aloud why they wouldn’t just give up and leave them be. It had taken some bullshit psychobabble and a lame joke from her husband and Master to snap her out of it. The unused gun lay on the nightstand. Susan was on her knees, loving the taste of his cock, just like always. When he thought of what she had put herself through to be with him, it warmed his heart. To think that anyone could love him like that—even if they were crazy—was to contemplate the eternal mystery of human nature.