The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Do you mind if I brain?

Chapter IV. Sarah’s gratitude.

Sarah’s brain is a tropical beach overwhelmed by a tsunami: she drowns and sweeps away in pleasure overflow, almost collapsed on her knees, unable to find a handhold (which I will kindly provide to her very soon, anyway). I enjoy her sexy vacant expression: her head is bent on a side, the mouth is slightly opened, a glistening trickle of saliva slips from the left corner of her lips and eyes keep on rolling to the back of her mind. For a whole minute she forgets everything but to breath, drifting absentmindedly in bliss, while I quietly walk around through her brain. I’m floating in seventh heaven and it’s all thanks to Jason—I whisper to her subconscious—He’s got the key of my sexual ecstasy, how can I survive without pleasure? I can’t live without Jason! I need him, I’m grateful to him, I love him... I need him, I’m grateful to him, I love him... I need him, I’m grateful to him, I love him...

When I sense her coming back to the world, I swiftly retire form her mind. She remains on her knees, sitting on her calves, but gradually she resumes some muscular tone. With obvious difficulty, she slightly bends back her neck and looks up to me standing on my feet in front of her.

—“Oh my Gowwwd... it was... mind-blowing...”—she says unable to pacify the rhythm of her breathing—“it has hit me... so deeeeep hard...”

—“Welcome back, baby”—I say—“I would say it worked. Now, what have you to tell Jason?”

After a delay, due to the troubles of her brain in focusing on the situation, she answers.

—“Thanks Jason... Thank you with all my heart... I... I have...”

—“You’ve just experienced the greatest climax in your life, Sarah, there’s no need you give more details: believe me, I was in the front row of the stage, I’ve heard, seen and touched everything with my own hands...”

She shows off a woozy smile.

—“I needed it so much... I... I don’t know if I’m able to stand up right now...

my brain have... melted down and my body feels soooo limp.”

—“Is it an unpleasant sensation?”

—“On the contrary, it’s pure fulfilment and... satisfaction.”

I promptly echo to the hind of her mind—It’s pure fulfilment and satisfaction to stay on my knees, this is where I belong and what I love most: kneeling in front of a man...

—“I see... you’ve completely abandoned yourself to pleasure and to me, and that was enough to overcome the blockade and blast off to cloud nine with body and mind.”

Her smile grows and her eyes fill up with more than sincere affection.

—“Mmmmm... It has been a lucky chance for me to skip the party”—she jokingly says.

Instead of laughing at her tease, I put on a miserable expression. Of course, she notices my sudden change of mood.

—“What’s happened, Jason? Have I said something wrong?”—she asks worried.

—“No, no... it’s not your fault, just a bad thought about my sad story with Dorothy and my past coming back”—I reply mimicking the saddest face ever.

—“I’m sorry... I didn’t want to...”

—“The problem is”—I cut her words—“...the problem was that I had become a tool for her, an mere instrument of pleasure like a first-class vibrator. On the contrary, love feeds on reciprocal devotion and people eventually get tired of giving it and not receiving it. Dorothy used me and you’ve used me just now. Don’t get me wrong: I’m very happy I’ve been of help for your climax but I’m a man, that is I’m almost a human being too...”

—“You never stop to amaze me, Jason... you are really a special one”—she says in a tender tone of voice, staring caringly up at me from her kneeling position.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she puts a hand on the bulge of my pants and starts to stoke gently.

—“Sarah, you don’t have to do it if you...”—I hasten to explain.

—“Shhht...”—she says hushing my false dissent.

So it appears I can congratulate myself: Sarah is kneeling in front on me, barefoot in her pantyhose, looking up with feverish eyes and ready to work on my cock. I sense her arousal built up again: the aphrodisiac and the erotic aura of the situation are an intoxicating mix for her brain. She unzips my trousers, pulls out from my pants my semi-erect cock and takes hold of it with her right hand. Flesh in grip, she smiles up at me and I smile back to her, but grin to myself: I’ve predicted that you would have soon found a handhold, my poor wrecked baby drifting away in an ocean of lust...

She starts slowly, with lots of light touch and teasing, perhaps also due to her residual psychological hesitancy: as a matter of fact, she’s sexually touching a middle aged man for the first time.

—“Thomas said I was very good at handjob”—she puts into words to get rid of tension.

—“Please, Sarah, I think it’s better if we let die out any Thomas and Dorothy issue now. It’s just me and you, here, aren’t we?”

She smiles and, as an answer, she resumes manipulating my cock with more fervour. The blood throbs in my cock more and more and the feel of its length hardening in her hand is enough to push her again from aroused to soaking wet. Within some seconds, her right hand dances gracefully along the shaft while the other hand cradles and gently massages either the sensitive areas under the head or the scrotum: she tickles around, run her nails along and tap lightly. At the same time, although keeping a good pace and stimulation, she modifies the wrapping of her fingers on the shaft, using only the thumb and index finger to avoid too much friction and roughness. I have to admit she has “magic hands” too...

While she goes on loosing and increasing the grip on my cock, I casually push a bit aside the left shoulder of the satin gown and put a hand on her shoulder, starting to touch the skin. Unfortunately, no reaction comes into view. Since I start to be worried that the link I’ve created during migraine “suckling therapy” may have collapsed or disengaged, I take advantage of Sarah’s newly growing arousal to slip unobserved in her mind. Although most neural networks are here and there happily firing and frying due to recent orgasm and arousal overload, on the whole her mind have regained some composure. Probably, the mechanical routine in the execution of the handjob is helping her to focus on coherent reasoning or structured line of thinking. I decide to build up again her sex drive to work more freely inside her head. Since she is massaging in small circles the hot spot between my balls and the shaft, I use the rhythmic motor pattern to trace back the records concerning the pleasure linked to clitoral masturbation. I recall her memories and add a subliminal mirroring. There’s really a special connection between me and Jason: massaging his spot feels like I’m rubbing my clit. As a result, within few seconds a moan escapes from her lips.

—“Ooooh... Jason, it’s amazing... there’s really a special connection between us: while I touch you... it feels like I’m rubbing my clit...”

Perfect signal transmission, indeed, I say to myself. Thanks to clitoral reverberation, Sarah gets hornier by the moment and her already amazing technique ignites with sincere eagerness. She tightens the squeeze between thumb and index finger, leaves the rest of the grip loose and increases her pace whilst angling the cock away from me, so that it is pointing more towards her mouth. Is it only a coincidence or does it mean something? Nevertheless, this angle puts some strain around the bottom side of my shaft, increasing my pleasure. And given that she’s working on my cock without lube, I have to bestow upon Sarah the honorary title of Handjob’s Queen...

Since she is so carried away with stroking, I take my time to check the from-shoulder-to-sucking artificial circuit. Everything seems to be properly wired but somehow she is resisting the sucking subroutine activated by tactile stimulation of left shoulder’s skin. I rub a little more strongly the shoulder and enhance the firing rate of the circuit. She looks up, making eye contact with a lustful smile.

—“Jason...”—she says between moans due to the mirrored masturbation which strikes her mind while she’s rubbing in circles at my spot.

—“Yes?”

—“It’s... it’s strange. I feel... my mouth wants to...”

She is strenuously resisting the urge to suck. I push the firing of the circuit to its maximum: her lips, mouth and tongue tingle with need.

—“What do you want, Sarah?”—I ask mischievously.

—“My mouth... I want to suck...”—she lets out in surrender—“...to suck your cock... I... I never g-gave a blowjob to anyone, before... the mere thought of taking a cock in my mouth sickened me, but... but now for some reason my mouth wants to suck... I mean, the idea remains rather disgusting but... I neeeeed so much to suck your cock...”

—“I don’t know, Sarah”—I say playing the part of someone overwhelmed by events—“Before tonight we were just friends! And now look at you, on your knees, ready to give me a blowjob! What have we gotten ourselves into!? We’ve started with your team-orgasm, then the handjob, an now... no, Sarah, we’re really forging ahead too fast!”

I move invisibly forward to the bare minimum, but just enough to skim along her chin. As a reflex she opens her mouth and swallows my cock.

—“Sarah!”—I scream pretending to be surprised and upset.

—“Mmmmmm...”—she answers in noises, happily sucking up and down the shaft.

—“At least, please, rub your clit while you suck me off: since I suffer from it myself, I don’t like the idea I’m using you as a tool to cum... it would relax me a bit to feel you’re horny and soaking wet.”

I don’t need to tell her twice: she eagerly goes down to masturbate herself. Alongside with her mounting pleasure, her mouth becomes ravenous and she forgets every complaint about giving a head: she puts in action a frenzy combination of hand stroking, gentle but firm sucking on the shaft and licking form base to tip. While enjoying her marvellous job, I work on her neural pathways in heat and take care of joining her sexual arousal with sucking my cock: it’s not a challenging work, I just have to reinforce the self-reprogramming of her brain, given that, in human sexuality, when something concurs with sexual arousal it will biologically tend to become part of it.

Sarah is squealing again on the verge of orgasm, unable to release herself. She rubs her clitoris with more intensity and fingers herself in vain. She swallows my cock bobbing frantically her head up and down its length. I indulge in the sensation and she continues for minutes, lost in the suckling subroutines, her stare more and more vacant as the over-excitement dazes her mind. I take the chance of her complete oblivion to gather up pleasure afferent inputs and map the “animal lust” pattern of activation in her deep reptilian brain: connecting it with a upper knob, will allow me to fine tune her level of arousal from a safe distance and pass unnoticed even if she is aware and suspicious. I rewire the signal up to the surface of her frontal cortex and mark the knob with a reminder saying “bitch in heat”. Then I go back to my gorgeous sucker: I grasp two strands of Sarah’s long and brown hair and push my cock deep in her mouth as far as her nose is buried into the coarse hair of my pubis. She shakes due to gag reflex, which I spot and switch off right away. After that, I resume to shove my cock up and down her comfy throat and the room fills with wet slobbering sounds. As the deep-throat goes on, a pleasant amount of saliva begins to drool out of her mouth, dripping from her chin to her chest, and I feel my orgasm approaching. To avoid unpleasant sensations, I confuse her taste buds evoking her flavour memory of General Tso’s chicken taste, a sweet, slightly spicy, deep-fried chicken dish that I find out she likes a lot. Right before I’m ready to blow, I disconnect the motor input of her muscles of mastication to avoid uncontrolled biting and I reach the red flag to activate the bypass of the orgasm barrier. As she starts shaking in climax contractions, I begin to spurt my load in the back of her throat. Sarah floats away in orgasmic bliss and I take the liberty to quickly pull my cock out of her mouth and hit her face with the following shoots of semen. She rolls back her eyes and moans repeatedly, quivering to the intensity of her pleasure and savouring the unexpected taste of my jizz. Cum tastes good, very good indeed, it’s the taste of bliss, let me float in this heaven forever, covered with love juices, completely abandoned to my man and master—I chant in her head—“I’ve never been so happy, so fulfilled, this is where I belong, even if I’m afraid to admit it, I love Jason with all my heart, I want to be his woman, to give myself openly and completely to him, oh, Jason, yes... I love you, I love you!

Exhausted, I sit back in the couch. Sarah collapsed and bent forward, with her head resting on my lap. While I waited for her to recover, I playfully stoke the wet length of my cock on her face.

Slowly she regains focus and the comfortable smile on her dreaming expression fades out a bit.

—“Jason...”

—“Yes, my love juice princess...”

—“How... how can this be happening?”

—“Wasn’t it pleasurable?”

—“Oh my God! It was pure heaven... but...”

I feel her tense up a bit.

—“Don’t anguish your pretty head with tortuous reasoning, stay on the bliss: what is so incredibly pleasurable can only be good. Don’t spoil the magic of love with annoying moral buts”—I declare, giving her a joking slap on her butt.

She smiles at my patronizing joke: good sign.

—“You’re right... perhaps it’s time I change my overbearing attitude and abandon myself to love”—she says staring up at me with worship.

—“I believe it takes more courage to abandon yourself to love than to resist it”—I add, confident that all this love speaking is amplifying the resonance of my last subliminal suggestion.

—“Are you still feeling used, Jason?”—she asks softly kissing my shaft.

I laugh not only at her joke, but also because her soft lips trickle the skin of my deflating cock.

—“Of course not. Perhaps I can’t realize the whole thing yet... everything is running so fast, but I really think I’m...”—I pause to create the right suspense—“I’m falling in love with you Sarah.”

She continues to flirtatiously tease me from her kneeling position, adjusting her body on my lap to achieve a more comfortable position with her head. The atmosphere, I grant, is damn sensual.

—“Are... are you saying this only because I’m licking your wet cock?”—she titillates me.

—“No, also because you’re licking cum from my finger.”

And while I say this, I gently pick up with my index finger a big glob of cum dripping down her cheek. After a hardly noticeable hesitation, she starts to lustfully lick and suck on my finger up to when it’s perfectly clean.

—“I always thought cum had a bat taste... I really was wrong... your love juice tastes very... appetizing”—she says hazily, as if she’s hearing her own vague thoughts put into words.

—“I’m happy to know it, baby... but it’s not surprising: love changes the way we think, act and live.”

—“My only concern is”—she adds looking at me with a slightly darkened expression on her face—“isn’t it gross? I mean... a woman with her face covered with cum...”

—“Right the opposite! You’ve never been so beautiful and sexy. They says cum is the most effective beauty face cream for women!”

She put on a faint smile and I feel the urge to be more caring, so I pull her up from her knees.

—“Come here baby, I want to hold you in my arms.”

She sits in my lap. I kiss Sarah’s naked shoulder and embrace her with affection.

—“Jason?”

—“Yes, dear?”

—“I think I’m even more confused than you... it feels like my head is light and spinning, I’m loosing grip with who I am and who I was. It never happened to me before... is... is this what an overwhelming love feels like?”

—“Time will tell, baby.”

—“It’s everything so absurd... How can I fall in love within two hours?”

—“Two hours... and two orgasms: I would not disregard it, for the precision.”

—“Eh, and two very big ones, indeed...”—she giggles.

—“Mmmm, three, I would recant, if I’m not a mere passer-by, here.”

—“Of course you’re not, Jason: it has been marvellous that we’ve climaxed together simultaneously. It felt like magic.”

—“I think that mutual orgasm really means something: perhaps our bodies have connected and bonded at a natural and instinctive level, long before that our minds could rationalize it.”

She stares at me lovingly and after a wile she can’t resist kissing my lips.

—“I love the way you talk, Jason. You’re a pleasant exception to men’s standard dialectic capability... I’m really tired of men who are only able to blether about football.”

—“Don’t you remember what you said this evening after I gave you my little present? You wanted to be honest, therefore you stated we will never be more than good friends”

—“That really seems years ago.”

—“Yes it seems, in particular if I you look at yourself right now, my love juice princess...”

—“My aim was to avoid delusions, but I’m sorry if that sounded arrogant or insulting to you, Jason.”

—“It was somewhat selfish: it sounded like I’m a gorgeous woman, so I’m out of your reach, shorty”.

—“I... I was... well, tall men always fascinated me, but... I don’t know why I had that idea... I really don’t know, it appears so stupid if I think it right now...”

—“Don’t worry about it: brain is a living tissue, that is, it continuously change a huge amount. Anyway, I demand you to be sincere: is my appearance so unpleasant?”

She hesitates: it’s evident she’s not good at telling lies. I whisper to her mind—The inner self of somebody means far more than his simple appearance: when I look at Jason I see his inner beauty and everybody knows that even if outer beauty attracts, it’s inner beauty who captivates... in fact Jason captivates me, I’m mesmerized by his animal magnetism: it’s his sympathy that enslaves me and it’s his presence of mind who makes me horny... He enthrals and seduce me with his charisma, he’s always right, he’s the only man who makes me feel so feminine... I love you, Jason... I love you, Jason... I love you Jason...”

—“Jason...”

—“Yes?”

—“I... I think I love you”—she says as she cuddles in my arms, abandoning herself to the safe warmth of my chest.

I start to pet her hair slowly, letting my fingers run gently through it, strand by strand. Her hair is smooth and my hand slips without resistance in long, soothing strokes. The attention is amazing, an intimate act which reassures her to the point she can’t help but feel in peace with the whole world. After a while, Sarah’s scalp begins to tingle and she looks up into my face showing the dreamiest smile I’ve ever seen.

I sigh with fulfilment and start to speak tunefully, as if reading a story to a baby.

—“You know, Sarah? Perhaps I’m like an aged book: the cover is discoloured, all wrinkled and spoiled on the edges, but only if you take the time to look inside and read my pages you can find if I’m... a masterpiece.”—Master, peace! I surrender to you my master, peace!—I murmur in sync into her subconscious—Yes... my master, please, accept my wholehearted submission, I give in...

Gradually, she passes out into an exhausted sleep.

I look at her, continuing to pet her hair: she’s gorgeous than ever. As my cum slowly dries on her skin, my mind is assailed by doubts and I mumble to myself: am I truly falling in love with this woman or am I playing the part so well that my mind is being affected? Is it possible that I’m starting to confuse the character with my real self? I recall a verse of the Highest Poet, Dante Alighieri, which says “Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona” and can be translated as “love, that releases no beloved from loving”. Was the Highest Poet right?