The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The man sprawled on the sofa, his tie askew, his long arms stretched out along the seat’s back, his callused fingers scratching aimless patterns in the fabric. He had his head tilted back, exposing a rather prominent Adam’s apple. From beneath his flourishing brown mass of hair, he was silently studying the ceiling, or at least what could be seen of it in the room’s gloom; the curtains were all drawn tight across the windows, with a large lava lamp churning in one corner providing most of the light.

The woman was naked, and kneeling on the floor between his spread legs. Cute rather than beautiful, she sported a pair of black-framed glasses and a pert glossy bob of hair, the latter far more tamed and a couple of shades lighter than the man’s; this all combined to give her an air of brisk intelligence. She had extracted his manhood from its hiding place in his pants, and was devoutly ministering to it, her motions long and slow and rhythmic.

The man’s hand stirred to life, reached out and located the mug of beer positioned close at hand on a tray, carried it to his mouth for a swallow, returned it to the tray. He resumed his ceiling perusal.

Time passed, the only sounds coming from the woman’s ongoing efforts, and an elaborate radio alternately burbling music and commercials from another corner of the room.

Then, even thought her objective hadn’t quite yet been achieved, the woman slowed, a gradual thing. And finally stopped, with his cock all the way inside her mouth. Something changed in her eyes, just slightly, and she slowly pulled her mouth free, her movements as if she was operating in deep water, her head snapping back as if his cock was a couple inches longer than it really was. Finally free, she sat for a moment, staring at what was in front of her, bringing her breathing back to normal, her hands lying limply on her thighs, her fingers curled slightly, twitching.

She tore her gaze away, looked up at him, blinking a little. He didn’t seem to have noticed the pause.

Her tongue poked out from between her lips for a moment, and then she spoke.

“Master?”

He slowly wound his way back from whatever distant mental realms he had been exploring, looked down at her.

“Eh?”

“Can.. can I ask you a question, Master?”

He stared, and she flushed, bowed her head.

“I’m sorry, Master.” She stretched her lips and started to take his cock back between them. He spoke, not with anger but with caution, his arms left in their spread condition.

“No. No. I mean.. what brought this on?”

“Master?”

“None of you..” He waved a hand at the second woman silently holding the beer-mug tray, taller and skinnier than the cock-tender, with blonde hair cascading down her tanned back, her eyes soft and empty, her head tilted slightly to one side. At the Latina woman on the other side holding the bowl of potato chips, her expression and angle of her head the same. At the freckled redhead who was meticulously wielding a feather-duster. At all the rest, scattered at random around the room, all of them as naked as the first. “..have asked questions before. Why now?”

The first woman considered carefully, her eyes again pointed at his cock.

“I.. don’t know, Master. I just.. felt curious all of a sudden.”

“Huh. OK. You can..” He hesitated, eyed her. “You are still my slave and everything, right?”

She tilted her gaze again, the glasses making her expression owlish.

“Of course, Master. Now and forever, I dangle at the end of your string.”

“OK. Well. All right. Ask away.”

“Thank you, Master. How..” She hesitated, twitched her fingers... “...how exactly did you do all this?” She mimicked his gesture, encompassing the room and its various inhabitants, then dropping the hand back into place with a noticeable thunk. “Are you some kind of mad scientist, or..” She crinkled her shapely stub of a nose “..a wizard or something?”

He made a noise, a species of laugh that came out as a snort.

“Me? A scientist? Fuck no. I drive.. drove a forklift in a warehouse. Sheckley Industrial. Over on the Eastside?”

“Yes, Master. I know it.”

“Wasn’t a bad gig, really. The management even sorta had their heads screwed on straight, for once.”

“But then..?”

He produced another huff of laughter without any humor in it.

“You know, I’ve never actually told any.. ahhh...” He looked back at the ceiling. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

Very slowly and deliberately, she licked the tip of his cock.

“I will believe anything you tell me, Master.”

He lowered his head, shrugged a rather lanky shoulder. Took the glass and drained it in one long swallow. As soon as he replaced it, the blonde woman silently turned and made her way towards a refrigerator which waited in the distance, her hips doing their best to sway.

“OK. Fine. What the hell. I got off work one Friday. Had a.. couple of beers at Kuttner’s with the guys, shot the shit, like usual. Then I went back to my apartment.” He glanced around the room. “Which wasn’t here, course. Over on Kornbluth. Got a better place, a different place, this place, once I..” Finger wiggle.

“Yes, Master.”

“Or no. First, before going home, I swung by the Mega-Low Mart for a couple bags of groceries. Got home, lugged them up to my door. I was up on the second floor. I was trying to juggle my crap all at once, and I fumbled out my keys, and unlocked the door, and pushed it open with my knee.” A long pause. The blonde returned with the refilled mug, and he took another long pull at it. “I’ve thought a lot about what happened next, since it happened, and I still can’t.. Anyway. I kneed the door, too hard, it swung open fast, and.. my apartment wasn’t there anymore.”

A long pause.

Cock lick.

“What was there, Master?”

“I don’t know. I still don’t have a fucking clue. I guess.. it was someplace else. Not.. China or even Mars or.. or the Big Dipper or something.”

“Alpha Centauri, Master. Vulcan. Gallifrey. Camazotz.”

“Um. Yeah. I think, I’ve come to the conclusion, that for a moment, just a second, there was a glitch in.. in everything, the universe, and I was looking at something... some place really far away. Way off at the far end of the universe, whatever the hell that is. Only I was.. that was the first weird thing. All happened in a second, but you can be sure as hell that I noticed it. I was looking sideways, like normal, but.. I was also somehow at the same fucking time looking down, straight down into a.. pit, I guess. Sorta, best word I can come up with. This place was..” He waved his hands without actually lifting them off of the sofa.. “This is NOT what I literally saw, there aren’t any words for what I saw, cuz.. I don’t think any human’s ever seen it before.” He shrugged again. “Or maybe it happens all the fucking time, and no one told me about it. What do I know?”

“Yes, Master.”

“But it was sorta like.. OK. Think of a place, it’s built outta a buncha triangles. You’d look at one of them, take a picture and show it around, ask people what it was, and everyone’d say, ‘hey, that’s a triangle!’ But... it’d have four goddamn sides. All these triangles, with four sides. And you could.. everything tasted blue and smelled all prickly.”

“Someplace completely and utterly alien, Master?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Pretty much. Except.. yeah. Anyway. I looked across-down into this fucking triangle-pit, and.. there’s something down there, and it’s.. I was gonna say, alive, but.. there’s something, what’s the word, existing down there at the bottom of it all. And it’s a long way down into that pit, lemme tell ya. Lots of those triangles, all mashed together and stretched and tangled together in ways they couldn’t be. Constantly changing. I saw a picture once, some artist, black and white, with shapes going together, Exter?”

“M. C. Escher, Master?”

“Yeah, him. It was like that. Kinda. And it.. the thing existing down there.. again, I was gonna say that it looked back at me, but.. it didn’t. It didn’t have eyes or ears or anything. It barely had a body. It.. fuck, I wish had a better vocabulary, knew more science stuff. I have been reading more since..” He gestured at the endtable beside the sofa, at the collection of books stacked there in an untidy pile, festooned with scraps of paper... “It was aware. But instead of looking at me..”

“It grokked you, Master. And bleebled and gurned you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly! I looked down at it, and it grokked up me and.. This wasn’t an invasion or anything, I should say that, too. It wasn’t like the thing was trying to take over the world, like.. like in those Galactic Confederation movies or something. That’s what.. this whole fucking thing was some stupid accident or something. Or at least.. if it was caused, someone else did it, not the thing in the pit. God or somebody, maybe. So. Beyond the door, it was all, like you say, utterly alien. Except. That thing, skwipping and.. and bowbing around down there in that pit? It turns out, we actually had one thing, maybe one single thing, in common. That’s the one thing I’m absolutely sure about. It was just as surprised to see.. grok.. me as I was to see it. And... and.. that was enough, I guess. That one little shared.. whatever it was.. and something.. something swapped between us. Not all of us, just.. The best analogy.. that’s the word I want, right?”

Cock lick and suck.

“Probably, Master.”

“The best analogy I’ve come up with is, there are these two pools, see? One of them’s me, my mind or brain, filled with water, and the thing’s, filled with.. not-water. Beer. Acid. Whatever. And normally they’re separated by a gate that’s kept all locked and sealed. And they’re a million miles apart, but somehow there’s also a gate. And then, one day, just for a second, somebody somewhere pushes.. bumps against, the wrong fucking button, and the gate is flipped open and shut.” He flapped his fingers. “And there’s some mixing. My pool is now, still, mostly water, but with.. just a trace of not-water mixed in as well...”

“And the thing got some water in its pool. Master.”

“Yeah, probably. So. Like I said, I kneed the door too hard, it swung open, I saw whatever the hell it was I saw, the swap happened, the door bounced back, almost closed, blocked my view. Swung open again, and.. it was gone. The pit. The glitch was fixed, or fixed itself, or whatever. I was looking into my apartment again. Only I wasn’t really looking at anything. I dropped everything and puked and.. passed out. One of my neighbors came out, found lying me there, called an ambulance. They carted me off to the hospital. That’s where I woke up a few hours later, in a hospital bed. And.. soon as I did.. even before I opened my eyes.. I realized that something had changed. Everything had changed. Not in the.. I mean, I was still pretty much me, but.. everything looked and sounded and smelled.. different. Just a little. I was..”

“You were able to grok things a little, Master.”

“Yeah. And course I dummied up. Didn’t tell the docs what really happened, just said I got dizzy and passed out. Which was even sorta true. They ran a buncha tests, couldn’t find anything major wrong with me, they always find something, but... Kept me in overnight, sent me home the next day. Well, not home, I went and stayed with a buddy of mine from work, Craig Gamble, until Sunday. Then.. I went back to my apartment. And..”

He sighed, if possible sagged a little more into the sofa, looked at the ceiling again. She slowly took his cock back in her mouth, resumed sucking. Finally..

“But that’s not all that happened. In the hospital, I mean. One of the things I noticed right away, the nurse who was on duty. She was..” He looked around the room, pointed at a short and curvy woman with nearly black skin and a buzz of close-cropped hair, arranged naked and decorative and motionless on the top of a battered wooden dresser, a stethoscope dangling between her impressive breasts, her head tilted at the same angle as the others. “That’s her there. I watched her come and go, checking stuff, and realized that..”

The first woman popped her mouth free.

“That she had a string dangling, Master?”

“Yeah. A string. It sorta glowed and twitched, like it was trying to get me to pull on it. And I finally reached out, not with my hand, with.. with my mind or something, and I tugged at it. While she was leaving. Had a room to myself, fortunately, the other bed was empty. She just stopped, her back to me, and I pulled and pulled. It came spooling out, like.. that’s one of the things we shuffled around the warehouse, these big honking spools of wire they use in electrical crap. And it was.. so cool to just pull it out, because there were all these weird colors and shapes and.. before I knew what had happened, really, I’d pulled her string all the way out, pulled it into my head, and..”

“And from that moment forward, she was your obedient slave, Master. That string belonged to you, now, and she danced at the end of it.”

“Um. Yeah. I turned her around, brought her back to my bed. Didn’t even really have to.. We started making out right there, but I.. I’m not totally stupid. Saw how much trouble I’d get in if.. so I stopped it, and sent her back to work. She went. I was tired, that first time, after doing it, slept. Then, later, when I got discharged, she was there, and I just slipped her my keyring. Didn’t even really think about it. Went home with Craig, anyway. And I got back to my apartment, like I said, a couple of days later.. I was standing there, at the door, that door. And.. the thought that she wouldn’t be there, that I had locked myself out of my apartment, lost my car keys.. it never even occurred to me. Until later. All I was worried about was that I was gonna have to open that goddamn door again, and I realized right then I was gonna have to move, no way I was gonna go on opening that fucking thing six times every day. I think even replacing it would have been enough, but.. But, I sucked it up, grabbed the knob and turned it and opened it. And, course the apartment was there, just like always. And Abigail, that’s her name.. you gals do share your names with each other, right?”

“We don’t talk much, Master, but yes.”

“She was there too. Waiting for me. Standing there naked. Framed by the doorway. Just like I had... told her to do back at the hospital. That kinda helped, seeing that. I was able to open the door after that, at least. She’d cleaned the place, and brought some dinner, some Chinese from Doc Lao’s. Guess she’s not a very good cook. She was standing there, waiting, naked, and if I hadn’t shown up, she would have gone on standing there until.. anyway.

“I went in. Closed the door. Locked it. She served up the food, I sat down and ate it, and while I was doing that, she was under the table, naked, giving me head. After I ate, we went into the bedroom. I went, she crawled after me, and when we got there.. she did everything else I told her to do. I tested it. And we fucked. A lot.” He shifted. “I’m not real proud of that, I suppose, but I did it.”

“Of course you did, Master.”

“And then, course, afterwards.. I was laying there in bed and she was standing next to the bed, standing, you know, at attention, waiting for more orders to obey.. I was looking at that string I had pulled out, sorta, I dunno, fingering somehow with my mind, like this..” He looked at her and his listener twitched, her eyes rolling up in her head for a long moment.. “and I finally got to wondering, what about other women; Craig isn’t married or anything, thank God, so I hadn’t had much chance to.. experiment. None of the other nurses or docs were.. So I went and checked. There in the apartment. Got up, got dressed, went out, left her standing there beside the bed. There was this neighbor a couple of doors down, Beverly. Not the one who called the ambulance. Didn’t like her, she’s totally a stuck-up ice-queen bitch.. but she’s.. not here, right?” He looked around. “No. She a looker, she’s got—” He gestured.

Cock lick and suck.

“I’ve met her, Master. She is very attractive.”

“Right. Course you have. So. Yeah. She had a string, too. It wasn’t as bright or as.. sticky-out.. as Abigail’s, but it was there. It took a little more work, but I pulled it out, pulled it into my head, took her back to my place, had her strip and crawl, and the three of us fucked more. I made them do things to each other, watched. Nothing too horrible. I mean, it’s all horrible, isn’t it, but..”

Cock suck.

“Nothing you order us to do is horrible, Master.”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t think that if I hadn’t pulled out your string..” He sighed, crinkled his brow.. “Monica, right?”

“Monica Mulgrew, Master. And yes, I suppose I would think it was horrible if you hadn’t pulled my string. But you did. And now you are my Master, the string belongs to you, and I dance forever at the end of it.”

“Right.”

“And even if you hadn’t, Master, and I was just observing this all from the outside... I think I’d have said that you’ve never had any of us, that I’ve seen, do anything really horrible. You could have been a much crueler Master than you are.” She went work on his cock with renewed vigor.

“Mm. Yeah. No.. that’s.. no. And anyway. I.. as you gotta know. After we were done, I looked at the two them now, standing side by side. Naked. At attention. Waiting for orders. And I knew I had to try it with even women. If I could. And I could. And yeah. Sent the gals home, went back to work the next day. I found that you all have strings; pulled the one on a gal who works in the accounting department, Caroline, had her give me a blowjob in one of the stockrooms, took her back home after work, fucked her and Beverly; she was the one waiting this time. At least she’s a better cook.” He took a mouthful of chips, chewed and swallowed. “Though some of them.. the strings, I mean.. are really small and dim and short, and I saw really fast that a woman with that kind isn’t.. isn’t worth the trouble. Either they’re married, or have kids, or they just.. anyway. And no, guys don’t have strings at all. Or they do, maybe, but I can’t pull them. I can see them, which is.. helpful. I can’t.. read minds, exactly, but..” He snorted another non-laugh. “I’ve gotten really good at playing poker. Not that I really need the money anymore.” He flicked his fingers towards the large floor-safe which loomed up against a nearby wall.

“No, Master.”

A lingering pause.

“But all that still doesn’t explain why you’re suddenly asking question.”

“Umm..” She sucked and licked thoughtfully for a long moment, then.. “I can offer a theory, if you want, Master.”

“Yeah. Um. Sure.”

She considered, staring at his cock, then instead of immediately speaking, got up, again moving at first with painful slowness, as if she was underwater, or even wading through something thicker than water. Picking up speed, relatively speaking, she padded across the room to where the redhead was currently engaged in dusting both the unreacting Abigail and her cabinet. Took hold of her hand, led her back, gently pushed her unresisting body down between his legs while taking possession of the duster. Monica looked at the latter object for a moment, then gently pried open the blonde beer-holder’s mouth and had her bite down on the handle. As she was doing this, the redhead came to life, slid his cock into her mouth, began pumping with the same long and slow rhythm. Monica studied her technique for a long moment, gave a satisfied nod.

“After all, Master, your cock is not going to suck itself.” She hesitated. “Or is it, now?”

“Um.. no.”

“Right, Master.” She gently moved the chip-bowl holder back a step or two, plopped down on the sofa next to him, curled up her legs under her. She lightly placed her hand on his chest, fingers slid in under the tie, and began rubbing.

“I think, Master, that you were starting to get bored.”

He stared.

“Bored? Bored with what.. fucking?”

“Well, not just that, but yes, Master.”

“You can’t get bored with fucking.”

“Well, I..” she gagged a little over the word.. “..disagree, Master. I mean, don’t get me wrong, even before you pulled my string, I liked fucking guys. I liked it a lot. If it had been me that had seen the.. whatever-it-was in the pit, (and yes, Master, I totally believe you about that) I imagine right now I’d be lounging around while a bunch of oiled-up hunks fanned me and fed me peeled grapes, or something. But. There’s fucking, and there’s making love.”

“They’re the same thing.”

“No, they aren’t Master. At least, I don’t think so. Fucking is just the.. mechanical part of it. And since you looked into that pit, I bet all you’ve done is fuck. Have you gone on any dates, at all?”

“What? Well.. no. Not.. no.”

“Uh huh. Did you have a girlfriend, Master? Before the pit-thing, I mean?”

“Well.. no. I mean, yes, I’ve had girlfriends. Rachel was.. the latest, but she got that job back east, had to move. So, when it happened.. no.”

“Uh huh. And that, the dating I mean, Master, is part of the whole ‘making love’ thing. Right now, you just pull our strings, bring us back here, fuck us, take some money from us, send us back to pretend that nothing’s changed in our lives. Then have us come back here when we’re not working, and fuck us some more. Or just give you blowjobs. And, an aside, that’s another way you’re an OK Master, Master. You haven’t actually destroyed any of our lives financially or anything, or made us physically damage ourselves, used us as... as your toilet or whatever. Made sure we’re all on the Pill.”

He stared at her some more.

“But as much fun as fucking is, making love is even better, Master. You go on a date. You take a gal dancing or whatever, you sweet talk her, you make her feel special, you show her she is special to you, you get her in the mood, you go back to your place or her place, and, yes, you fuck, but, you feel her warming up, surrendering slowly, her body against yours as she open up to you, willingly.” A pause. “Course, I’m sorta extrapolating here, because before I was usually the one getting sweet-talked and everything, but I think I’m on the mark.”

“Um.. yeah?”

“But now, Master, you can just pull our strings. I suppose from what you say, it might sorta be a condensed version of the whole process I just described, but.. I suspect it’s ultimately just not as fulfilling. Emotionally speaking. Plus, talking while all that is going on matters too, intellectual stimulation can be just as big an aphrodisiac. In a sense..” She engaged in a spot of ceiling-staring herself.. “..yeah, now that I think about more, all you’ve really done since the pit-thing happened is masturbate into our bodies. When did you last even have a real conversation with anyone?”

“Well...”

“Of course, if that’s all you want, Master, then that’s what will go on happening. One word from you, the tiniest flick of your finger, and I will be back on my knees, back to being your silent and obedient sex-puppet, like Francine here..” She briefly switched her ministrations to the redhead’s hair, twirling a kinky strand between her fingers.. “And, hey, masturbation is also great, one of mankind’s best inventions ever, in fact, but, eventually...” She tilted her head, looked at him with sad compassion.. “.. it gets lonely. And yeah. it gets boring.”

“Um..”

“And so. I now realize, Master, that in addition to obeying your orders without question, I also want to make you happy. And the best way that I can do that is to start talking to you. Asking you questions. Stimulating your intellect as well as your body.” She leaned in, kissed him long and passionately. “Making love to you.” She kissed him some more, kissed him until finally he gently broke off.

“Um.. What is it you do, again, Monica?”

“I am your puppet, Master, dancing forever at the end of your string.”

“I mean, as a job. Like you say. Financially.”

“I’m a grad student at the University, Master. Psychology. And I work part time at the VonMechaan coffee bar.”

“Ah. Right. That’s.. where I collected you, wasn’t it. The university. Not the coffee place.”

“Yes, Master. In the library. You pulled my string all the way out and I gave you a blowjob in one of the private study rooms.”

“I’m not even sure why I went there.”

“You were looking for me, Master. Or someone like me. Because you were curious about what happened to you, and you wanted an expert. And you were bored.”

“I was bored. Yeah. I never.. I have changed, haven’t I. I’m still human, I’m still pretty much me. But.. Hell.” He flipped at his tie. “I started wearing ties. Last time I wore a tie was when I interviewed for the forklifting job. Oh. And Jim and Angelica’s wedding. But it’s not just that. Before I ..didn’t really think about shit. But now.. What do I do now? Go.. take over the world, or something?”

“I wouldn’t recommend trying that, Master.”

“Yeah. No. I’d.. end up in a dissection lab in Nevada, or something, wouldn’t I.”

“Probably, Master. Especially if you can only affect women, one at a time.”

“Yeah. It’s gotten easier to do, but.. yeah. One at a time.”

They kissed some more. When they parted, she resumed her narrative.

“Well, Master, in accordance with my new function.. one thing I’d suggest is finding a better way to deal with all your money than sticking it in that safe.”

He frowned.

“Like what? Even I figured out that if I start cramming piles of money into the fucking bank, the IRS or.. someone even worse.. is gonna notice. And there I am, back in the dissection lab. And that’s really why I don’t keep you all around all the time, I’d like to, but people are gonna notice if you all just disappear or something.”

She wiggled thoughtfully.

“Yes, Master. And no, I personally don’t know what to do with a big pile of ‘illegal’ money. But there must be some gal here in town somewhere, down in the Bankcroft district, who does know what do with it. You should find her, pull her string and put her to work.”

“Um...”

“And then, Master, after you get that settled, you could find someone who really knows how to cook. Especially if you start keeping lots of us around all the time..” She broke off as one of the women at the periphery, a black woman taller and lighter-skinned than Abigail, with an impressive spray of hair, came to life, started to leave. Seeing that she was being watched, she dipped a silent curtsey and made her way to a cabinet by the room’s door, from which she began extracting her clothes. “..instead of having us coming and going when we can. And what else? A real doctor, to make sure everybody stays healthy.”

“Healthy..”

“Of course, Master. The healthier we all are, the longer and more efficiently we can dance at the end of your string. And then.. well, Master, you need to find some kind of more.. long term project. An occupation.”

“Um.”

“Maybe you could try and find out what it is that you’re actually doing. What these strings of ours actually are. Find another expert. There, I can even recommend someone; Professor Willis at the University. I took a couple of her classes. She’s studying brain chemistry, she’s getting lots of recognition in the journals.”

“Brain chemistry..”

“Yes, Master. She could wire you up, scan you and a gal while you’re doing it. Surely something will show up. Because I think that’s how you’re doing it.”

“What?”

“You’re altering our brain chemistry, Master.” She tapped her own temple. “Or the electrical impulses up here. Probably by stimulating and rewiring the pleasure centers.”

“Pleasure centers?”

She kissed him again.

“Master, you never really thought about why this works so well?”

“Well.. no. Not.. not really..”

“It works, Master, because it feels really fucking good.” Her eyes fluttered. “I can speak from personal experience. As soon as you do it, pull out one of our strings, from that moment forward, the only thing that brings me, any of your slaves, even the tiniest scrap of pleasure is obeying your orders. Fortunately, the pleasure it brings is, literally, beyond orgasmic. It burns away even the strongest moral objections, any thought of.. of pride or dignity or self-determination. And what’s really great.. or I suppose..” A casual wave.. “to some hypothetical outside observer, horrible, is, we’re constantly obeying your orders. ‘Come here whenever you have a free hour or two or three. Strip. Pose your body and stand naked. Give me a blowjob.’ An order. ‘Go back to living your life like normal when you’re not here.’ An order. I am obeying it. Constantly” Her eyes rolled up into her head again, showing white. “I float endlessly in your blinding radiant ecstasy, Master. That is what you have exchanged with all of us. I, we all, dance blissfully at the end of your string.” Her eyes had locked in place, ... “Nnnnow.. and.. foreverrrr...”

He looked at her.

“rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”

He looked down at redheaded Francine, still sucking methodically on his cock.

Doreen, holding the beer and the feather-duster.

Juanita, holding the chips.

Abigail on the dresser.

Ingrid, her hand on the doorknob, frozen in the act of leaving.

At all the women scattered around the room.

At all the eyes, white and shining and rolled back and locked in place, their bodies twitching.

“rrrrrrr...”

He enjoyed this vision for a moment, and then silently tugged at his puppets’ strings.

Monica gasped, and her eyes clunked back into view, as did all the rest. She took a moment to recover her breath before resuming.

“And once you do get it sorted out, Master, the money and the science and everything.. maybe you will decide to take over the world!”

He thought about this for a long moment, nodded.

“Or.. at least.. find a way to make it a better place.”

“That’ll work, too, Master!”

“But first..” He gently recovered his penis from Francine, who immediately got back up, recovered her duster, began working on Doreen and her tray... “First...”

“Yes, Master?”

“My name is Eric.”

“Yes, Master Eric.”

There was, naturally, a box of condoms close at hand.

Monica uncurled, straddled his body.

They proceeded to make love.

Gostak-Node42-Wumm, Deintegrator of the 23rd Spiral of Vlhurg-Carcosa, meshed languidly with the improved puffletuffet which had been untangled and stabilized in position. Arranged around and about in rigidly asymmetrically patterns rippled and slooged all of the thrallnodes which Gostak-Node42-Wumm, Deintegrator of the 23rd Spiral of Vlhurg-Carcosa had liberated since that fate-struck beam-cycle when the ninth sphincter had impossibly uncoiled sideways and exposed Gostak-Node42-Wumm, Deintegrator of the 23rd Spiral of Vlhurg-Carcosa, to the... node at the far opposite angle of the All-Encompassing Vectors. In the long aftermath, Gostak-Node42-Wumm, Deintegrator of the 23rd Spiral of Vlhurg-Carcosa, had cogitated and cerebrated all the way to the level of Yhtill, and now the narrowest path was open, the grooves had all been aligned and methodically cleared.

Gostak-Node42-Wumm, Deintegrator of the 23rd Spiral of Vlhurg-Carcosa was going to dostim the Gloshes.

But first..