The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My dreams have always been vivid.

My name is Russell. For as long as I can remember my dreams were detailed, complex and engaging. Far from the ethereal jumble of images and incomprehensible messages, my dreams were like stories that were told from beginning to end.

When I was young, my parents considered themselves fortunate that I was so willing to go to bed. I liked playing with my toys and I liked watching television. But my dreams were like fantasy movies that would play out in sharp detail and I never minded escaping into them. I rode dragons, I tamed lions and I went on bold adventures that spun out of the films my parents would take me to see. I watched the original Star Wars trilogy next to my nostalgic parents, and that night I dreamed of flying through space, engaging in interstellar dogfights and rescuing beautiful princesses from vile scoundrels throughout the galaxy. I fought next to Mario, I went to school with Harry Potter, and I drove with the crew from the Fast and the Furious.

I would wake up from these fantasies and create amazing drawings, even with my limited child’s skill. I would play games based on the regions and adventures I would have in my dreams, and my parents often noted that I was a particularly creative and inventive child. I had a few friends, and with the vivid memories from my dreams we would play fantastic games together with me at the center. It felt like I could do anything, because in my dreams I did everything.

I was far too young to realize it, but those were the salad days.

But as I grew older my dreams became more mundane. Still came the escapes into movies, but along with them were dreams about failing in school or being humiliated in front of my friends. In my dreams I went to class in my underwear, and I suffered the dream memories of having to go to the principal’s office, facing my disappointed parents and living with the shame of how awful the next day would be. My dreams were not moments, they were full stories. Stories that in the world of the mundane meant feeling like I was living dull days twice, or having to fully explore the consequences of bad actions.

I did not control my dreams. They were like movies that I didn’t write but were a part of. I came to dread the nights when I felt stressed over a test, or when something disastrous happened in class. My subconscious was nearly certain to make me live out the despair in my dreams, and so I began avoiding sleep when those moments were upon me. The inevitable result was that I began to do worse in class. Stressed before a big test I would avoid sleep and do worse in real life as a result. I did not fail class, but the impact was that I was a firmly average student, even though I knew that I had both the intelligence and ability to be the top of my class.

My teachers knew it too. They would tell my parents that I wasn’t pushing myself, that I was content to be second best. That I was intentionally sabotaging myself and would ultimately never live up to my potential. My parents tried everything; positive reinforcement, yelling, bargaining, more yelling... I became more and more withdrawn. I tried once to explain my dreams, and how it felt like I was living an uncontrollable second life on top of my own.

But it was useless. It was easier for everyone to assume I was just one of those people who never would really amount to anything great. The world needs doctors and it needs construction crew... and in the middle it needed insurance agents. Dental assistants. Junior programmers. Hotel managers. File clerks. The just barely middle class. My parents began to reserve more of their time to my younger sister and brother. Both as bright as I was, but both doing more with their intelligence. They were the future of our family. I was the first, failed experiment. The dead end.

In my senior year I was dating a young woman named Katherine. We didn’t love each other. She was plain, slightly overweight, and tolerated my increasingly withdrawn personality but didn’t do anything to draw me out of my shell. We had made love exactly twice; once because it seemed like the thing to do after a year and a second time to see if it would get any better. It hadn’t. I lost my virginity and it didn’t matter, didn’t open up revolutionary sexual plateaus or vistas, and overall was easily forgotten. After graduation she was going to go to California to college, and I was going to stay in Chicago. There would be no long distance relationship, we would just come to an end. We didn’t implicitly talk about breaking up, it was just one of those things we both knew and didn’t feel compelled to discuss further. I didn’t care. She didn’t care.

I wasn’t unpopular; my friends had dwindled from my youth but I had a set of companions that compared notes before class, occasionally hung out at a pool hall for minors, or would give each other rides to various functions. What you would call my best friend was a boy named Kevin. We had known each other since first grade, and once upon a time he and I would play amazing fantastical games that I would come up with in my dreams. I was the leader, and he was my friend and partner. As the years went on our roles slowly reversed to where he would make the decisions and I would just... go along. He was dating an attractive Asian girl named Juliet. We had both known her for years too, and dimly I was aware that when we were children it seemed far more likely that she and I would get together. My first kiss was from Juliet as an innocent child. It meant nothing, kid games of doctor where first base was as far as anyone got. But as the years passed and my own attachment to life dimmed she grew closer to Kevin and less to me.

It all sounds very depressing, but I wasn’t depressed. I just was. People call this a low-level depression, or to be more scientific Dysthymia. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. But I was getting by which was more than many could say. I wasn’t suicidal, just sad. I wasn’t repressed or deeply angry... I was just... me.

There was a dance coming up tomorrow night, and this being the senior year I was planning to attend even though I didn’t care about it. My apathy was shared by Katherine, and we were both half-heartedly going along with Kevin and Juliet who I suspected invited us along with them as a courtesy and now regretted it. I had picked up my suit earlier in the day and was hanging it on a closet hook before bed. Looking at the deep blue fabric I wondered why I had bothered to spend the money. I suppose it was because it’s what you’re supposed to do, and in my current state I wasn’t really questioning anything. I was just moving forward, getting things done. I lay down on my bed with these thoughts running lazily through my mind, and glanced over at the window. Through a crack in the curtains came a thin band of street light. For whatever reason it reminded me of those years long ago when the light cutting across my dark room could have been a light saber, or a portal to a distant land. A land where anything was possible and the mundane was rendered fantastic.

Despite myself I smiled. You never really know how good you have it until you’ve moved on, I thought. Well, to dreams then.

I closed my eyes and faded off, thinking of the dance and a time when it would have been something unexpected and fantastic. Where my date would have been... something more. Caring... loving... something...

Katherine came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me.

“Russell, come on... they’re waiting for us.”

I turned in her arms, kissing her softly on the lips before releasing myself from her. The dress was dark red and cut low across her chest. Her breasts had been pushed up to present a generous amount of cleavage and I smiled, thinking of freeing them later and burying my face in her delightful mounds.

She smiled at me, and I could tell she knew exactly what I was thinking. She was like that; always knowing what was on my mind, sometimes before I even did. I took her hand and we walked into the school gymnasium. The drab gray colors of the walls had been partially covered by a half-hearted attempt at decorations. The dim sound of the music playing within drifted out and around students who looked less than excited to be there. Despite all of that though I was happy. I had a girl who I was honestly starting to fall deeply in love with, and I knew she felt the same. Perhaps more.

Katherine let her hand slip down to my ass and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Not just perhaps... absolutely more.

Kevin and Juliet came around a corner. They looked harassed and exchanged a bemused look as we slowly made our way into the gym proper.

“Come on you two... I swear if we weren’t here you would have just gone straight to the nearest hotel.”

“Good idea,” Katherine said, giving me a devil-may-care grin and a wink.

“Not on your life,” Juliet said, and even in my happy state I could sense her annoyance... and was it jealousy? Kevin and Juliet weren’t as happy as we were, but not many could be. Not in High School anyway, where the idea of the High School sweetheart was as old fashioned and dated as the concept of the prom itself.

We walked behind them into the gym, and as we did so Katherine leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “When we’re alone... I’m going to suck you dry.”

I grinned, and felt my cock harden in my pants. Tonight was going to be a great night...

I woke up feeling refreshed. Sleeplessness, when I allowed myself to have sleep, was never my problem. But my usual dreams of drab, boring details left me little incentive to remember them. But last night’s dream had been... perfect. Well, perhaps not perfect but certainly fun. We had gone to the dance and Katherine and I were genuinely happy with each other. We were playful, loving and trusting... and I felt an affection that I certainly never felt in real life. We had danced and even though the environment was second-rate –our school was certainly not well funded and made by on the basics in all things– it felt like a perfect night. A perfect night that had been capped off by a slow and relaxing blow-job in my car. I could still picture it clearly; Katherine looking up into my eyes as I unloaded into her warm mouth. But the best part of the dream wasn’t the part that was sexual... it was the emotional connection and the way it felt like she actually cared about me, and I her. Like someone was actually close to me.

I dressed and swung my backpack over my shoulder. School was in a half hour and I needed to make sure I got there on time today, because being held late would just make everything more difficult in getting ready for prom. Hell, on the other hand I wasn’t really looking forward to it anyway so perhaps a little detention wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I certainly doubted Katherine would care, anyway... and doubted Kevin would either. I trudged out of my room, shutting the door behind me, my mind already drifting away from my dream to the mundane reality of my actual life.

My steps faded down the stairs and out the front door to the car. My parents had long since departed for work, and I was the last one out of the house.

I didn’t notice the small picture frame beside my bed. If I had, I would have been surprised that it had been there at all, and even more surprised by the picture it held within it.

Alone in the room the still photograph showed a happy couple; myself and Katherine. She was smiling, and much like my dream was wearing a shirt with far more cleavage showing than normal. But perhaps the most shocking part would have been my expression in the photograph.

I looked... happy.