The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It’s for the best, Griffin thought. He had made it all the way behind the counter at the bank and was watching as the closest teller opened and closed her drawer, trying to get the timing right. That’s when he had thought about his car. People had seen his car when he was driving it invisible. Why was that? Was it a size thing? People didn’t seem to notice his clothes, or even the books he had been carrying in the halls. Best to be sure he understood the limitations of his invisibility before he started committing major felonies. He didn’t want the first time the world really took notice of him to be the moment he was hauling a bundle of cash out of the local bank branch.

He followed a customer into the curry place, noting that it was the one asshole that figures it’s okay to go into a restaurant ten minutes before closing time. No sign of Nitya, just his lovely sister, Naima. He watched her, feeling a little guilty for being unseen, as she dealt with the latecomer. The food smelled delicious, and he realized that he probably should have at least taken the chance at one of the loose bills at the bank. He hadn’t eaten yet and the thought of what remained in the refrigerator in his apartment made him practically queasy. The bell tinkled as the final customer of the night left and she followed him a minute after, flipping the open sign and turning the lock.

“There’s some extra if you’re hungry, Griffin.” She said, looking towards the row of booths where he was sitting.

Griffin stood and crossed the short distance to her and touched her shoulder gently.

“How did you know?” Griffin asked, partially in amazement, partially with a worry. Was this power not all he had thought it was cracked up to be?

She didn’t even start as he appeared in front of her in the restaurant, but that tinkling laughter caught him off-guard again as he started at that smile, her pearly white teeth contrasting with the dark perfection of her delicate face. “Everyone likes a good curry.”

He shook his head, taking a step back. “No, how did you know I was here?”

Naima took the step forward that he had used to open the distance between them. “I didn’t.” She said, reaching out her hand. He could feel the heat of her fingers on his chest through his tight shirt.

“Then…” Griffin said, flustered.

“I was just hoping that you were. Take a seat and let me bring you something.” Naima punctuated her sentence by dragging one of the chairs away from the table and turning delicately on her heel to head towards the kitchen.

“Is your brother?” He asked, trailing off.

“He’s taking a couple of days off.” She said as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Griffin sat, collecting himself. There was so much more he needed to learn about his abilities and the power of his device. He knew that all of the self-doubt he was feeling would make it hard to use them to their fullest advantage.

The smell in the restaurant became even more intense as the beautiful woman emerged carrying a plate and a glass, setting them down on the table in front of him. “So have you come up with a name yet?”

“You know; I haven’t given it much thought.” Griffin said, pulling his seat closer to the table as she sat in the one opposite him. He was positioned facing the semi-drawn curtains at the front of the restaurant, occasionally seeing a late-night straggler heading home past the doors. People didn’t just go out on a stroll in this neighborhood.

“Okay,” She said a smile crossing her face, “I’ve been working on that for you a little bit.”

The first bite had already crossed his lips so he chewed in that momentary awkward silence that’s usually reserved for responding to a query from the server. “Holy shit, you’re a better cook than your brother is.”

She laughed. “Yeah, Nitya is great at running the business.”

“Ah, I see your mother taught you the same as me about saying something nice.”

“Did you want to hear my ideas?”

“Why are you taking such an interest?”

“You don’t meet people with super powers every day.” Naima said, simply.

Griffin smiled and continued to eat. He had realized that he was hungry, but he had underestimated the prowess of his own appetite. “I would love to hear your ideas. Not that I’m really planning on going into the superhero business, though.”

Naima grinned at him across the table. “How about The Silent Avenger or the Dark Void?”

His involuntary snort almost made him choke a little.

“Okay, maybe too much.” She said. “How about The Electric Shadow?”

Griffin finished the bite in his mouth. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for a name yet.” He said. “It’s not like I’m using my powers for anything good right now…other than free curry.”

She smiled again. He found that he really enjoyed making her smile. “How about The Restaurant Bandit?”

“That’s probably more appropriate. This is the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Things are tight?”

“Yeah, you could say that?”

“You could rob a bank.”

Griffin laughed out loud. “Yeah, I tried that. Chickened out.”

Naima leaned over the table, excitement in her dark eyes. “You really tried to rob the bank?”

He looked back at her a little sheepishly, though he could see that she wasn’t judging him in a negative way. “Yeah, I wasn’t confident that I could carry out the money without being seen.”

“Okay, yeah. A big bag of money floating out of the lobby, I can imagine that.” She said, laughing. “You just need to experiment.”

“That’s why I came in here.” Griffin said.

Naima was talking to him, but suddenly it was as if she was in another room, her voice muffled and quiet as his eyes focused on the front windows. It started a blur between the slats as his eyes processed all the incoming information, obviously shutting out all else. When the figure crossed in front of the main window, all he saw were the legs. His eyes processed every tattoo even in the momentary view. It was like each visual cue lit up the memory of her body from before, bringing each design and pattern to the forefront of his mind. Lydia.

“Grif, are you okay?”

Her words shook him out of his daze, but he was embarrassingly unsure of whether it was the first time she had said them.

“Sorry, Naima.” He said. “Life’s been a little…strange lately.”

“You know; you can tell me about it. Every superhero needs a confidant.”

“LOL. I’m not a superhero, Naima. I’m just a broke-ass student trying to get through school.”

Naima looked at him seriously over the table for a minute, the silence hanging heavy in the empty restaurant space. “No, you’re a lot more than that, Grif. Go home and get some sleep and think about it. You’re welcome to stop in for some food anytime.” She pulled a sharpie out of her apron and pulled his hand across the table, writing a phone number on his palm.

He heard the lock on the door click behind him as he stood once more on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant. Confidant. The word struck him as odd. Well, he had chosen to confide in her, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like he had told anyone else.

His second attempt at taking advantage of his powers that evening had worked a lot better. Professor McDonough had been surprised to see him that late up at the school, but had been easy to convince to allow him to take his exam again. Griffin had decided to actually schedule it rather than just suggest that the old codger give him a good grade. He wanted to prove himself, to prove that he could succeed. Wasn’t that all that he really wanted, wasn’t that the way he had always wanted to be seen by others?

Driving back down the hill, he saw the entrance of The Dale and pulled in, almost automatically. Professor Martinez, Donna, Naima. The names and the faces flashed through his memory as he neared the dormitory building where he had picked up and dropped off Donna. She was sweet and cute. What was he hoping for, to see her? Unfortunately, he couldn’t even convince himself of that. Lydia. Why couldn’t he get that girl out of his head?

He parked the car a block away and walked back to the building, wondering whether or not the power was still in effect. Duration was definitely something that he just had to figure out before trying to use this power much more, but somehow the allure of walking up to Donna’s building was uncontrollable. The first walker that passed him on the sidewalk didn’t even look up, but that didn’t prove anything to Griffin. It amazed him that in his neighborhood, only a few miles away, no one walked at night without a good reason. Up here, it seemed so normal, so natural. He greeted the next passer-by and she too didn’t even glance up from the sidewalk. A little better test, he thought. They at least normally look up, even if they wouldn’t return the greeting.

Emboldened, he climbed the stairs and went to the main entrance, passing by a number of girls, none of whom noticed him. He followed one girl inside and got his first view at just how opulent the surroundings were. He had never even stayed in a hotel as nice. Inhibitions about being a voyeur were in his head, but he brushed them off as he explored, careful to not touch or be touched by any of the residents. In one of the upstairs halls he saw Donna and finally realized that she wasn’t the one he was looking for. She was wearing a short, silk robe that highlighted her nice legs and her pixie-like body. Before a few days ago, he would have been ecstatic that she had even given him the time of day, much less the frolic they had had back in his apartment down the hill. Why wasn’t he ecstatic?

Lydia. It wasn’t just lust, though that was there. There was something more about it. The flashes, the glances. He was seeing her everywhere, even when she couldn’t possibly be there. Trying to ground himself and escape the feelings of doubt and uncertainty, he followed Donna, slipping quietly past her as she opened the door to what was likely her bedroom. Why was he doing this?

“We’ll just have to keep it down.” She said, softly, latching the door behind him. He could almost feel the air currents her words made as she was only inches from him. He wondered if she was playing the same game that Naima had been playing earlier. He was about to respond when he heard another voice.

“I can do that, sweetie.” The room was dark, but it was definitely a man’s voice. He felt his face flush, whether with anger or embarrassment he didn’t know. Likely both. She’s not your girlfriend, Grif, he told himself. You just manipulated her into your bed whether you meant to or not. No, he corrected himself, it was more than that and you know it.

The one thing he did know for sure was that he needed out of her bedroom. He turned the latch slowly, trying to keep it silent. His eyes had adjusted enough to see that Donna had slipped into a bedroom just off the small sitting area. Using more caution than he really needed in his state, he slipped out the door silently, closing it behind him with a barely audible snap.

As he walked sullenly down the hall, planning to leave, another door opened and face poked out, looking quickly both directions. Before he could even process it, a hand reached out and grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him into the room.

“Who are you?” A voice said as the door clicked shut and the overhead lights flicked on.

Griffin just stammered for a second as he recognized the face and tried his best not to look down at the length of her body. He could see the ink lurking just below the collar of her own silk robe, like an infection that was slowly taking over her whole body.

“Griffin.” He finally said. Maybe Naima was right about a name. He just kept blurting out his own, even in these impossible situations.

“Yeah, we met, but that’s not what I mean. Who are you?” Lydia asked, her eyes blazing at him. Was it wrong that the first though he had was that she was one of the first women who had ever looked at him at eye level?

Lydia.

Griffin woke, feeling the sweat soaking his shirt and the couch beneath him. He was in his apartment. He knew that before he even opened his eyes. Through no fault of his own, there was a musty smell that had never gone away, something to do with the age of the building. Naima, Donna, Lydia. The names ran through his head like a slideshow with an image of each. The last wasn’t a face, though. It was the tattoos. One was a rose and his brain actually watched the ink of it bloom from a subtle bud to a fully exposed flower. That was just in his imagination though, right? What was in his imagination and what wasn’t? Had he even been up at The Dale last night?

He tried to put everything out of his mind except for the power. He spent the entire morning and afternoon working out experiments that would help him understand its limitations. The first few were at least resolved, but there were many unanswered questions. His short list of absolutes only contained a few:

1. Can’t use the power often due to disruptions in the power grid that will eventually be traced.
2. Invisibility ends for any person after making physical contact.
3. After contact, caution must be used with anything that can be taken as a suggestion or an order.

He had more data, but nothing that was specific, mainly what size of objects he could bring into his invisible state and how deep the suggestible state of those he came in contact went? Something else as well. It seemed that sometimes the person who he touched became invisible as well, like Lisa in the amphitheater, but sometimes not, like Donna in the halls or Naima in the restaurant. That would have to be figured out as well, even though he wasn’t keen on doing things out in the open ever again.

He also needed a name. The second flash of the tattooed beauty of the day solved that one at least. Gyges, after the Platonic character who had a ring of invisibility. The philosophy about power corrupting was perfect, as well as her name itself, Lydia. His first thought was to go down and tell Naima, but he put that aside. He was still upset about Donna, even though he couldn’t decide if that had really happened or not. That in itself brought up too many questions. If it had happened, had he actually been pulled into Lydia’s room? If he had, how had she known he was there and why was that the end of his memory?

Screw it, he thought. Hunger got the better of him and he went over to Naima’s to take her up on her previous offer.

“Yeah, I know the story.” Naima said, “I like it. It suits you.”

“We’ll see about the corruption bit.” He replied. “I’m a little worried about that.”

“What is corruption?” She asked, turning to greet the customer that had just come in through the door.

This is probably corruption, Griffin thought as he slid into the dim hallways of CHTC that evening. The lights were usually low, but here and there he could see the glow of office lights through the frosted door panels; professors burning the midnight oil, at this point, probably grading finals. The finals he hadn’t finished taking. Professor Lorentz’s light was on and he tried to see through the clouded glass to no avail. It was one of the two grades he hadn’t secured, and she was the one professor he had not seemed to be able to contact. She was probably the oldest professor in the school, and she hadn’t been the biggest Griffin fan, even though he was usually prompt and participated in the discussion. He turned the handle as quietly as he could, hoping to slip inside the office, brushed off as a freak draft. If he could touch her, he could influence her; he knew that much about the power at least.

The face that peered up from the desk at the suddenly open door wasn’t his professor. He had never seen her before. A redhead in her early twenties, long straight hair that likely fell to her lower back, pale skin warmed by an obvious attempt to keep somewhat tanned.

“Samira, can you close that door?” She said, staring straight at, and through, Griffin as he decided what course he wanted to take.

A figure came out of the other room, the exact opposite of the girl at the desk. Shortly cropped black hair, her white dress contrasting sharply with the darkness of her skin, not quite as dark as his own. He had never seen either girl. He had to step back awkwardly as she passed near him, closing the door and jiggling the handle.

“How much longer do you think you have on yours, Kimberly?” She asked, turning back to approach the desk, giving Griffin a view of shapely dark legs, her bare feet padding silently on the industrial carpeting.

“Jeez, at least an hour. Some of these are just awful.” She lamented, looking down at one of the essays in her hand. “This one is particularly bad.”

Griffin had edged a little closer, but couldn’t see the name on the paper. Just as well, he knew it wasn’t his.

The redhead was adjusting the straps of her blue and white polka-dot top, leaving plenty of cleavage showing, even though her breasts were on the smallish side. Definitely not grading attire, he thought.

“Well, if we wrap it up, we can still make the party.”

“Fat chance of that.” Kimberly responded. “All the guys will just be sloppy drunk by that point.”

“Hey, at least they’ll be interested in you. They treat me like I’m invisible.”

“Robbie likes you.” The redhead said, half-apologetically.

Griffin definitely identified with the thought, though he was kicking himself for not having ever seen this girl before.

“Robbie’s nowhere near my type.”

“Well, at least he’s interested, Samira.”

Samira shrugged and went off into the other office. Griffin gave her a moment to get settled in as he worked his way around the desk towards Kimberly. She was wearing a pair of white shorts, revealing a gorgeous set of long, toned legs. She was barefoot as well. Okay, so this is corruption, he thought as he reached out and put his hand across her mouth, noticing the way her eyes instantaneously widened.

“Don’t make a sound.” He whispered simply before removing his hand. She nodded in acquiescence, her brows furrowed. “It’s perfectly normal that I’m here.” He added quickly.

“Shit, are you okay, Kimberly?” Samira’s voice came suddenly, much closer than he had thought possible. By the time he looked back, she had collided with the back of his mountain of a body.

“What the fuck?” She shouted, a sound that echoed in the small room.

“Don’t make a sound.” Griffin repeated to the second girl. “Who are you two?”

“Student aides.” Kimberly said, softly, her brain obviously overriding the silence command as he was looking at her.

“That’s not important right now.” Griffin said. Shit, this is what you get when you go off the script, he thought. Influence the professor to give you the grade and walk out, that was the plan.

Corruption kept going through his head, that one word repeated over and over again like a mantra. Maybe Plato had been right. Control it, he thought. Use the power, but keep a general set of morals. He had decided on that earlier in the day but repeated it to himself as a sort of reminder.

“My name is Gyges.” He said. It was the first time that he had used it, and it felt okay, but more like the uncomfortable first wearing of a pair of shoes than something that truly fit.

The girls stared at him as he looked from one to the other before he realized he had specifically told them to remain quiet. “You can talk, just keep it down. I’m not here to hurt anyone, really.”

“Then why are you here?” Samira asked. He could see her looking him up and down.

“I need you to put a good grade in the system for a student.”

“We can certainly do that.” She replied. “Who?”

“Griffin Ellison.”

Kimberly took charge and typed a few things into the laptop on the desk. “That’s easy enough. Done.”

“Remember that you read his paper and it was good, but nothing spectacular.” Griffin said, trying to get back to his original plan. Unfortunately, his mind wasn’t having any of it. “But forget that I was here and everything that happened from when you saw me to when I leave.”

“Okay.” Samira said. Kimberly echoed the comment.

Okay, now walk out, Griffin told himself. Just walk out.

“Is that you? Griffin?” Samira asked.

Not very good at this so far, Griffin lamented internally, but realized they would forget the whole thing once he left. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I haven’t seen you around.” She said. He noticed her looking him over again.

“Yeah, I get that a lot, but apparently you do as well.”

The beautiful girl’s dark face broke out into a half-smile.

“Would you be interested in me if you did, honestly?” He asked.

She considered that for a minute and Griffin realized that her compulsion to obey him might be fighting with her own desire to keep information like that close.

“Yeah, I would.”

“In what way?”

She looked him up and down one more time. “In any way. You’re a good-looking guy.”

Griffin turned to Kimberly. “What about you?”

“Honestly?” She asked, timidly.

“Of course.”

“Of course I am, but I’d never be able to say.”

“Why is that?”

She looked confused. “Because girls like me…”

Griffin stopped her. “In your heart.”

“Yes.” She said, softly. “I’ve always wanted…”

“Don’t finish that.” Griffin said. He had heard what he wanted to hear and in some twisted way, he realized it satisfied his morals.

“Come out from behind desk, Kimberly.”

The beautiful redhead stood slowly and cautiously came out into view, giving him his first good look at her. A week ago, she would have been unobtainable, at least in his own mind, yet from her own admission, she likely would have been just as attracted to him as he was to her. Is attracted, he corrected himself, she just said it herself.

She was standing next to Samira and Griffin was again struck by the contrast of the pair; both beautiful, just in different ways. His conscience wanted one more thing.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” He asked, directing the question to Samira.

The dark-skinned beauty answered him by stepping closer into him, going up on her toes. He lowered his head and their lips met in a fiery kiss. A flash hit his brain, another kiss, eye to eye. Lydia. He broke the kiss off short and focused on the other girl, looking at him expectantly.

“Will you kiss me too?” She asked, timidly. Griffin put the thought of Lydia out of his head and turned to her, his arms automatically wrapping around to her tight ass as he kissed the second beauty. Her response was nothing but acceptance and desire, and it lightened the load on his mind.

“Let’s go back into Professor’s office.” Samira said. Griffin followed her as the smaller girl followed close behind, her hand on the back of his shirt.

The interior office contained another big desk, almost completely free of anything on the surface. He had always pegged Lorentz as being OCD. There was also a long, overstuffed couch and Samira pushed him down on it the moment he was close. She was immediately on him, hiking up her skirt as she straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him in for another deep kiss. Griffin’s hands wrapped around her slender waist and he worked them down to the tight buttocks hiding beneath that sheer dress, muscular and firm. He felt hands on him, pulling his shoes off one by one. Kimberly. Following his shoes, he felt those nimble hands working their way up under Samira’s body, finding the button of his jeans expertly. As his tongue intertwined with the dark-skinned beauty in a passionate kiss, he shifted his hips, allowing the redheaded goddess between his legs to extract his rapidly-rising cock from his pants. Samira arched back a little bit, her hands pulling his shirt up over his head, only breaking the contact of their lips for a moment.

The hot breath he felt on his shaft was hesitant at first and he could barely discern the sensation of Kimberly’s wet tongue coursing gently over his head, unknowingly teasing him to no end. His hands came up off Samira’s taut cheeks, searching lower until he felt the long, silky hair of his other new lover. As he felt tender lips circling his crown, allowing that sweet tongue to dip seductively into the crease of his foreskin, he gently pressed down on her head, feeling that he was being aggressive just as much as he was giving her the permission she needed to follow her own desires. Those tightly clenched lips descended his shaft, the warmth between his legs now matching the warmth and weight on the rest of his body; the warmth of Samira’s lips on his.

Griffin released Kimberly’s head, his hands going back up to Samira’s dress, bunching it up in his fingers as he prepared to drag it over his head between the intense bursts of her lips on his, her dark brown eyes staring into his own. Samira eagerly assisted him when she sensed his desire, wiggling her body as he slid the light fabric upwards, his face automatically burying themselves in her small, bare breasts as the dress made its upward motion. A dark nipple found its way between his lips and he alternated between suckling its hardening form and gripping it gently between his teeth. The pleasure almost but not quite distracted him from what was going on between his legs. The petite redhead was doing the best that she could though he could tell that she just wasn’t physically capable of fully taking him into her mouth. He wasn’t about to complain, though. What she missed in ability she seemed to be trying to make up with enthusiasm. A few more minutes passed before he felt Kimberly’s hands on Samira’s ass with him, apparently encouraging her to move. Samira shifted her hips and her body slid down a little, almost breaking their kiss before he felt the warm inviting wetness between her legs and Kimberly’s delicate fingers guiding his aching shaft to its target.

Samira deliberately broke the kiss as she lowered her weight onto his shaft, allowing him to see the passion engulfing her expression as she slowly sank down onto his eager flesh. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them just as she reached the hilt, her green eyes staring deep into his a she ground her hips to get every available inch.

“Who are you?” Lydia said, staring into his eyes.

Her skin would have been pale if not for the tattoos that covered most of her beautiful body. A stylized bird just above her left breast slowly and inexorably stretched its wings in preparation for flight.

“Is this okay?” Samira asked. Griffin shook his head to clear the vision from his brain.

“Sorry. Yes. God, you’re beautiful.” He said, trying to get the image of Lydia out of his mind. He felt Kimberly’s hands between his legs as Samira started to move, her lithe body gliding slowly back up the length of his shaft. He slid his hands up her dark skin, feeling the tightness of her skin and the curve of her ribs as her hands lifted over his head to the back of the couch to give her leverage for her continued movement.

He closed his eyes again as she fucked him, almost daring the vision to return when he opened them once more.

Lydia.

This time he forced his eyes to wander much more than the first time. The tattoos covered almost every inch of exposed flesh, each one an individual work of art that blended with the others to make a sort of mural, maybe even a story or an autobiography. Even her body felt different on his shaft as she slowly worked up and down, taking him deep into her flesh. He found himself wondering if he wanted the vision to go away, even though he knew that it would be best for him mentally if it did. He started to say something, but the Amazon beauty pressed one finger to his lips, silencing him as her eyes twinkled back at his own. Her movements became more and more desperate as the time passed, though Griffin was mostly focused on the ink that appeared to move with the increasing gyrations of her body. He felt her body tense on top of his, clamping down tightly on his invading member as she came, her hips bucking back and forth as she ground her clit on the base of his cock. He was staring at the scene playing out between her breasts when the ink began to pool, darkening into an even covering of dark perfection, only broken up by the rash of goosebumps that flowed over it like an obliterating tide.

Samira.

“Oh, my God, I don’t think that I’ve ever come that hard.” The ebony beauty sighed, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Griffin felt her whole body as it slowly relaxed from its elevated state, the pulsing on his shaft from between her legs slowly ebbing as she came down. She rolled off him, and he felt Kimberly’s lips take him up once more, this time able to see her silky red hair as she bobbed slowly up and down his shaft, her tongue making up for what she couldn’t physically accomplish.

Griffin stood up, holding her head with his hands as he towered over the kneeling redhead, looking into her brown eyes as she gazed up at him, a sense of longing showing strongly in her expression. He reached down and lifted her to a standing position, then lifted her by the waist. She wrapped her delicate legs around his body as he carried her over to the desk and rested her on the edge. Kimberly was touching and kissing his chest gently as he pressed his hand between her legs and pushed her down onto the surface, kneeling down between her legs as she propped them on the desk. He realized as he was doing it that he was almost frantically pulling her panties down her legs, eager to dive into the treasure that that simple act would uncover. His lips traced back up those remarkable legs after discarding the scrap of fabric on the floor, her pale skin contrasting with his own lips as he tasted her skin, hungrily, almost wantonly. He felt a shiver run through her petite body as his lips reached her inner thighs, the aroma of her eagerness finally reaching his senses. High on her thigh, he felt an electrical charge as he kissed her, realizing he had closed his eyes to amplify the sensations of his exploration. When he opened them, he saw the dark storm cloud that he was kissing, the landscape wet, the sky darkened. He could almost smell the mixture of rain and soil as he kissed higher, knowing that once again he was in the vision.

He saw the tattooed wrists as they went to his head and he made the conscious decision not to try to shake off the mysterious feeling. His lips finally found her heat and he dove in, his hunger for her overwhelming, his passion growing moment by moment. Passion for who? Lydia’s firm legs wrapped around his body, bringing his head even tighter between her legs as she him that his passion and head was not unrequited. He poured his growing fire into his worship of her flesh, driving his tongue deep into her, her clit hard and throbbing as he worked it forcefully with his tongue and teeth. She was flooding all of his senses, and he responded immediately when he felt those fingers in his hair urging him to stand.

Lydia lay before him, covered now only by her polka-dotted top, which looked wrong. It just wasn’t her. Part of his mind knew that it wasn’t, that it was the teacher’s-aide eagerly desiring him, but that part was taking a backseat. He forcefully ripped open the top, hearing the soft sound of the seam ripping down the side, exposing the rest of her long, decorated body. With the full revelation, he saw her body for the canvas that it was, saw the story unfolding in his eyes, unfolding in her subtle movements. He slid between her legs and entered her, partially because he knew that it was what she desired, but partially because he felt that his presence would spur the story along, as if driving the conversation and tale it had to tell. She lay there as a willing and enthralled sacrifice as he took her, impaling her on his shaft as he watched the tableau that was her body in constant motion. He realized that he was fucking her, and hard at that. She was encouraging him; the fire in her face obvious, almost goading. The dizziness was growing in proportion to his feeling of fulfillment. Something about her, something about her body and her spirit were drawing him in and he wasn’t entirely sure whether he should, or even wanted to succumb. His eyes were locked on her flat abs, an almost Van Gogh Starry-night scene, but the pink of the moon was so crisp, sprouting four limbs as it moved around to her hip on jointed appendages.

“It’s a walking moon.” She whispered. “This Friday night.”

Griffin was afraid that actively speaking to her would destroy the vision, bring back Kimberly. He couldn’t keep himself from responding.

“I don’t understand why this is happening.” He said, his voice nearly cracking.

There was a solemn silence, only broken by the sound of their bodies crashing together in the frenzy that seemed to be separate from their conversation.

“This isn’t happening.” She said, her voice ringing with truth, even though it confused him to hear.

“What do you mean?” He asked. He felt his desire for her, almost at a crescendo. Her beauty was beyond anything he could have ever imagined. Was this yet another dream, was that what she was trying to tell him?

She didn’t answer him, unless her climax was the answer that he sought. Every piece of the story gracing her flesh flashed and played out in loops, sometimes the same and sometimes altered slightly. The intensity of her body’s reaction brought him to the edge as well and they both instinctively froze as they shared the sensation of his load filling her tight passage with spasm after spasm. He was afraid that she would disappear, his confusion left to fester and swell.

“This already happened.” She said softly.

He looked at her face, trying to find more information than what she had just given him. He saw the tattoos on her neck fading, saw her hair turning back to a fiery red mane.

“Who are you?” She repeated.

Kimberly’s face was flushed and her body had a thin film of sweat from their heated encounter.

Griffin pulled out of her slowly, his mind struggling to ascertain what was real and what was not.

“I’m sorry, I have to go now.”

He couldn’t think of anything else to say.