The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

On his back, now finally inside Julia, completely inside her all at once in yet another dream, a very different dream, this one the most immediate, most intense dream yet. It felt incredible, better than even the dreams with Elizabeth, so much better. What was the difference? He couldn’t say; it didn’t matter. Julia had simply been right, as always. It felt even better.

Addicted immediately, completely addicted. She really had been right all along; it was more powerful than any drug, any drug he’d ever tried. He knew he would never experience a greater feeling, never get tired of experiencing it, never stop craving it, craving it constantly, craving it above anything else.

It was actually... too much. It was all just too much for him. But he knew he couldn’t stop. He was too overwhelmed with it all to stop. He was addicted.

Now every part of him draining suddenly, draining somehow. Jim could feel the direct flow of energy, of matter, of non-matter, being sucked from every part of his body and mind... his tension, his doubts, his worries, his thoughts, his pain, his memories, his fatigue, his deepest secrets, his remaining free will. All of it flowing, collecting so quickly now into a single central point, where he instantly knew he could not possibly contain it all for long.

The focused gathering of everything in him felt incredible, a screaming, mind-numbing, narcotic buzz of ecstasy running the full length of each and every active pathway to the central point. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of these pathways now, far too many to count. Jim could feel every single one, could still feel new routes forming every second.

Somehow, it felt even more incredible at the unified locus of the pathways. Jim realized his hips had begun to levitate all on their own, unable to simply remain stationary in the face of so much kinetic energy, hopelessly unable to contain the boiling, frothing, ever-expanding bubble gathering there.

Yes, yes... ready to surrender, all at once. It was too much. He had to surrender, surrender all of it. He understood. He was ready.

To surrender, he somehow knew, he had to surrender into her eyes, like he had before. He had to open his own.

He worked to open his eyes, so desperate to find Julia’s eyes again, so ready to finally surrender all of himself again, to finally surrender all of himself completely into Julia’s eyes and body all at once for the very first time.

...Elizabeth.

Elizabeth’s eyes. Elizabeth on top of him.

...No, that wasn’t right. Julia. Seeing Julia. Seeing her clearly, clearly now. Seeing Julia’s body, Julia’s eyes.

Elizabeth flickering, morphing into Julia... Julia now. Yes. Yes, Julia now.

...Flickering?

The urgent energy of the prior moment ebbed away almost instantly. He could not understand, could not understand. Something was very wrong.

Seeing Julia, not seeing Julia, seeing Elizabeth. Which was real?

Julia was real. When he saw Julia, it hit him all at once. It was better, better right away, better always. There was no comparison.

...No, Julia was not real. Elizabeth was real. She was telling him to surrender to Julia... telling him over and over to surrender to Julia, a blank smile on her face, her eyes so distant, yet unmistakably filled with notes of sadness and horror, the corners of her eyes visibly moist.

Elizabeth was real. She was now two Elizabeths at once... one telling him repeatedly to surrender to Julia, the other telling him wordlessly to fight. He knew this was all real too.

Angry. Growing so angry now, the force of his anger spreading rapidly outward inside him. The more the anger spread, the more he saw Elizabeth, the less he saw the fleeting image of Julia. The image of Julia, disappearing now, did not feel “better” in any way when it took focus. No, it just felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. That false image had to stop trying to take focus. It had to stop.

Julia could not be stopped, the voice said. He was too far gone to stop her, the voice said. Stop talking, Jim said. I won’t listen any more.

Now the voice was becoming indistinguishable from his own once again, the voice said, completely indistinguishable from his own, and he knew everything he heard in his own voice was surely true, Jim maybe said, and it was only his voice he would hear from now on, Jim said.

His voice reminded him now that he was addicted, completely addicted to Julia, completely addicted to everything she was, and it was best to simply admit it to himself all over again. Because he knew his entire being absolutely craved release, craved release only for her. Very soon he was going to cum for Julia, surrender to Julia. No matter who he thought he was seeing on top of him as he came, he would know he was cumming inside of Julia, and cumming inside of Julia would be the most amazing thing he’d ever felt in his life. He couldn’t wait, his voice said. He couldn’t wait.

He felt the energy building inside him all at once again, building with his anger, turning his anger into the same surrender, using his anger, soon to simply dissolve that anger into peace and contentment as soon as he came, to take him at long last to where he knew he belonged.

He argued with himself; he knew where he belonged, and it wasn’t with Julia. The things he knew, like knowing where he really belonged, were becoming rapidly distinguishable, separable from the things he “knew.” He didn’t need to hear which voice was his, which voice was real. He was surely capable, more and more capable now, of simply remembering the sorts of things his real voice might say, and casting the rest of what his voice said aside, casting those things aside as lies.

But the energy, the energy kept building all the same. If he would just let go of it, it would all be alright; it would all be over and done, it would all work itself out. He’d emerge from letting go, and find suddenly that he was now truly happy with everything, truly happy with having surrendered, truly happy forever. He wanted to be truly happy forever.

Jim didn’t care, didn’t care if it was his voice telling him so. He was angry, angry above all else. Let the building energy do whatever it liked. He would never release it, never let himself release it for Julia. Not now, no matter what he thought he wanted.

Blinding him, burning him, it simply had to come out now. It was too much, too much, too much. He had to surrender to Julia. It hurt far too much to hold it in any longer. It hurt more and more.

His skin began to blister, his eyes began to bleed, his balls were bruising horribly, threatening to collapse at any minute from the pressure. Too much, too much to hold in. Had to let go, had to simply surrender. It was the best thing to do, the only thing that would stop the endless pain.

Jim refused, refused to believe in anything he felt physically. He held on. He held on in agony. He felt his own locked jaw, his contorted grimace, his vocal cords ripping themselves apart with never-ending unconscious utterances. All this was probably real, he knew, and he tried to focus on what was real. But it was still all background, distant compared to what he was suffering, suffering falsely. The lies were patently apparent now, and yet they still somehow felt like the most punishing and torturous of truths.

But this was real: Elizabeth riding him harder and harder, her blank smile more inviting, her tears now flowing readily, still telling him to just let it out, let it all out into her, dream with her, surrender to the dream, surrender to Julia once and for all. Her voice was so sweet, lyric, impossibly calm and tempting to his ears, even as she continued crying silently, even as she pushed her body to its very limits trying to simultaneously convince his body to give in.

Jim was beyond anger now. Elizabeth had been filled with lies too. Her body and voice were completely beholden to those lies now, while the deepest part of her was suffering unimaginably, just as he was suffering. The only possible way to save Elizabeth from the lies that had overtaken her was to hold on. He held on.

He did not know how much longer he could hold on. It had already felt like eternity, a lifetime of bodily torment.

He held on. It all screamed on and on around him. He could not shut it out, could not shut any of it out, did not have enough strength left to shut it out. He put everything he had left into holding himself inside, pushing back against himself over and over, binding himself tight everywhere to keep from rupturing.

Weakening, still weakening in the face of it all, but still just barely strong enough. He now felt he might die from his own efforts to rein in his body, but knew that was also a lie. Even if it were truth, he was still convinced that dying was better. Dying was better than surrendering, surrendering unto what was so clearly wrong, wrong, wrong.

Suddenly, in a moment of lost focus, he felt it... felt it really beginning inside him. He felt the energy begin to slip past him. He tried to catch it... succeeded, but... so hard to hold onto it, harder than ever now. Every part of him was now so unbearably tight and swollen with the irrepressible energy; to try and apply any more pressure against the energy that had to burst out of him now seemed absurd, pointless.

Crying out uncontrollably, he still focused on nothing else, nothing else now. But he still could not hold onto it. His grasp slipped, then slipped again, the bright, wailing trickles of escaping energy all pooling directly into his balls and shaft. He now knew that climax was finally imminent, that his body had made its own decision, that there was no turning back. His body had been pushed beyond the ability to listen to reason. His body only knew it needed release, now. It would have that release, now, with or without his cooperation.

He felt his internal machinery all being lined up, being triggered, switching on, spinning up. He heard the howling, rising pitch of the collective apparatus in his head as it all came online, prepared now for its explosive final activation.

Now focusing all his remaining strength and hope at the base of his excruciatingly engorged cock, he visualized his hand in a white-knuckled death grip around his shaft’s rapidly throbbing circumference, knowing he could only block the inevitable for half a minute more, at most. He felt the machinery now test itself dangerously, a warning pulse shooting through him. His screaming, aching balls yanked violently upward into his body as his chin yanked violently downward into his chest. He unwittingly clenched his jaw even more tightly as he felt the slow, churning waves now rippling throughout the base of his shaft, trying to disrupt and loosen his imaginary grip, trying to clear the way.

Another shattering pulse from inside him... not a warning this time, but a signal, a clear signal of final-sequence initiation. The next pulse came quicker, came stronger. That pulse was followed by yet another. It felt sickeningly wonderful.

His balls began to set a rhythm of absolutely ferocious contractions, the resulting shockwaves resounding all the way through to the base of his already-roiling shaft with each involuntary attack. In desperation, Jim moved his imaginary grip to the end of his shaft, strengthening it even further, still feeling his cock jerking and pulsing nauseatingly in time with the unstoppable jerking and pulsing going on beneath it. His cock throbbed harder and harder with each contraction, filling itself up, hypnotized helplessly by the same compelling biological rhythm, just as helplessly as Jim himself had been hypnotized by Julia.

Now his hypnotized cock was full, completely full of what it could no longer hold in. Now it would have relief, and nothing would stop it. Now it would surrender all of him gladly.

And the voice, but now the voice was urgent, frantic: “Surrender completely now. Now. Now.”

Jim felt one last, overwhelmingly strong contraction inside him, and knew for certain what would immediately follow this time. The blinding pleasure made him forget all at once who he was, what he was fighting for. He still somehow remembered to catch it on the way down, somehow clamped the contraction down hard before it could begin its return trip, barely managing to delay the massive, irresistible, catastrophic expulsion of everything inside him, everything of him.

As Jim trembled everywhere from the all-consuming effort, the temporarily-bound contraction was extremely unhappy. It pushed back against his final effort with unrelenting violence and bottomless anger, tapping and sapping every muscle in his body to find the needed energy to break free. It would break free. It would break free now. Now. Now.

The voice, still more urgent now, so very urgent and clear, accompanied by the sound of fingers snapping over and over, all of it distracting him from holding on, holding on with everything he had. ”Now, Jim. You must surrender to Julia now. You must cum now. Now. Now.”

He felt the irresistible pleasure finally overcoming him. He felt his final, desperately-held grip now beginning to slip. He heard himself screaming through his now-fracturing teeth. No. No. Oh, god, no.

Then Jim heard something else. He heard... beeping.

...The timer.

The timer was going off.

Jim was instantly hurled out of trance, his mind suddenly set reeling in shock and sheer disorientation. His body followed suit, abruptly if barely deferring its demand for immediate release, his deeply confused dick trying to regain its balance through a new series of rapid, fluttering, ultimately empty palpitations.

His head clearing, his ruinous level of fatigue now brought horribly to the foreground, Jim needed to shift his focus onto just about anything but his dick’s ongoing activities for a few moments. His eyes popped open all over again, finally able to make him fully aware of his true surroundings.

He was in Elizabeth’s bedroom, on his back, in her bed, still trembling. Elizabeth was still real, still on top of him, still senselessly slamming herself onto him again and again, like a broken, uncontrollable machine. He planted both hands firmly on her hips, pushed down hard, stopping her manic gyrations, feeling her immediate compliance with his wordless command. She half-collapsed with him still inside her, panting raggedly, recognizing her own state of total exhaustion all at once, at least on some level.

He turned to the right, saw Julia. She was still naked save for her watch and her glasses, standing at the side of the bed. Her eyes, a bit wider than usual, seemed to be focused upon three things all at once: her watch, the still-beeping timer, his eyes.

“Fuck you,” he croaked at her, his jaw still clenched so tightly as to nearly keep the words from coming out of him.

“...Fuck you, Julia. I won.“

Jim could not read Julia’s face. He saw multiple messages flashing across it, but he could not understand any of them. None of the messages fucking mattered anyway.

Julia leaned in, kissed Elizabeth on the cheek, removed Elizabeth’s headphones at long last. “Elizabeth, I’m leaving you now. The key is back in Jim’s hands, right where you wanted it. Your memories are yours again.”

She snapped her fingers; Elizabeth gasped sharply once, then twice; her eyes went suddenly, painfully clear, only to cloud over again with grave confusion.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment,” Julia said, her back turned, as she sauntered out of the bedroom.

Jim looked at Elizabeth. Their eyes met. Jim also saw innumerable messages in Elizabeth’s eyes. As much as part of him wanted to wait, to take the time to read them, he decided it was better to try and decipher them all later.

“You... you actually beat her,” Elizabeth whispered, still trying desperately to catch her breath. “I can’t... fuck, I just can’t believe it.“

Jim said nothing.

He grabbed Elizabeth roughly at the hips, pulling her off of him, spinning her, rising over her, pinning her onto her back.

“Are you still mine?” he said.

“Yes, Jim... yours... completely.”

With that, he ruthlessly impaled her from the first sharp thrust, ignoring her whimper of surprise and complaint as his tip slammed into her cervix. He grabbed her wrists tightly, bruisingly, pinning down both of her arms. He stared into Elizabeth’s eyes coldly, trying to force himself into her mind just as deeply and violently as he was forcing himself into her body. His hips brutally thrashed against her and up into her repeatedly, as far as he could possibly manage, farther, deeper, harder with every pounding, punishing stroke.

Jim grinned, drooling, snarling, teeth grinding and gnashing, eyes rolling back into his head.

And in mere moments, at longest last... release.

Sweet, sweet, mind-melting, furious, absolutely imperative release.